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Of Dreams Or Visions
His vision blurred by blood and the lack of glasses he willed himself to his desk grabbing for his quill, ink, and parchment. Unable to stand, he slumped back down to the floor. Hands shaking wildly, he managed to write one word. Chapter 19, Write and Wrong, has been submitted, finally... I know!
Ginny was now nervously twirling a lock of hair near her temple. She rolled over on to her side and looked into the fire. Harry could tell that she was battling with herself.
“How? Why?” Ron was doing his best to keep his cool, Harry was his best mate and deep down he knew he wouldn’t hurt anyone he cared about, let alone his sister.
Buried At The Burrow
A poof of dust billowed from the sofa as Ginny plopped down. “Well, ‘cough’ were here.” She said as she looked at Harry who sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “Thank-you, Harry.”
Birthdays And Bedlam
George rolled up the parchment and quickly tucked it into his dragon hide jacket as Fred got up and crossed the room, pulling Ginny into a bear hug. “Good morning, my most favorite sister!” His tone was obviously sarcastic in nature.
“I want you all to have a seat.” Lupin waved his hand at the sofa and chairs. “You need to know what happened tonight and more importantly why.”
Two Days Down & To The Right
Word had traveled, no doubt with the help of the Daily Prophet, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his loyal Death Eaters had attacked their homes. Everyone also knew that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all had Death Eater fathers who were caught at the Ministry and briefly imprisoned in Azkaban until their master released them and sent them into hiding.
Arrogance & Ignorance
Harry found himself at the foot of the gargoyle marking the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to find out what the password was. Actually, it didn’t even occur to him until now.
Morning couldn’t come quick enough for Harry, he needed to talk to Ginny as soon as possible and lying around waiting for breakfast or a chance meeting in the common room was going to drive him crazy.
Good News, Bad News
Having survived the first three and a half weeks of school, life at Hogwarts had pounded out its rhythm into Harry’s mind. The constant beat of classes, an upbeat of homework, the background harmony of the D.A. and Quidditch all complemented the haunting melody that was Ginny Weasley.
Harry was especially excited today, for tomorrow was Saturday, the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. However much he loved Hogwarts, it was nice to have a break once in a while. Even Professor Snape couldn’t dampen his spirits towards the upcoming furlough when he assigned a foot and a half essay on the accomplishments of Vurgeta Oxley, a witch who had discovered the five uses of Trillium.
In The Eye Of The Storm
His trainers, cloak, and pant legs were soaked and splattered with slimy, grayish brown mud as he continued purposely along the well-traveled road to Hogsmeade. Brushing back his drenched hair from off his forehead, only momentarily stemming the flow of water that ran down his face, Harry push against the cold wind and plummeting sheets rain.
Harry heard Ron’s hushed voice as he tried to open his heavy eyes. A dim light breached through the darkness, fluttering under the weight, he let them slip closed again. His head felt like it had been cleaved in two by a blunt object.
Shades Of Black
It was late afternoon before Harry began to stir in his bed. He draped his right arm over his left shoulder and tucked it in close to his chest as he lay awkwardly on his side, legs kinked this way and that, and his bare feet peeked out from beneath the blanket. The effects of the Sleeping Draught had worn off long ago, leaving his body to take whatever time it needed to recover on it’s own.
Back In The Thick Of It
Everything looked they way it should be as he entered the sixth year dorm, not that he was expecting anything different, but being cooped up in the orderly, antiseptic hospital wing made him miss the untidy, unruly, habitat of teenage boys.
The Unhappy, Happy Christmas
“Now be good and don’t get into any trouble you lot.” Mrs. Weasley was pulling Ginny’s traveling cloak tighter around her neck, making sure that it was securely attached before tucking in the ends of her Gryffindor scarf.
With only a few hours of restless sleep, Harry was up with the sun. He leaned against the headboard, forearms resting on his knees as he re-read, for what seemed like the thousandth time, his letter to Ginny.
When It Comes Right Down To It
Finally, it was Christmas. Nestled in his hollow and one of Mrs. Weasley’s thick, warm quilts pulled up around his ears, of which only his unruly hair stuck out from beneath it, Harry lay comfortably in his bed, feigning sleep as long as possible. He could hear the echoed greetings of ‘Happy Christmas’ as members of the Weasley family gathered in the parlor, three floors down.
Write And Wrong
Suddenly and most unexpectedly, Harry felt a sharp, single stab of pain. He took a quick breath and jerked his hand out of the water. No sooner had it begun, the pain stopped. Feeling that Ginny and Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were on him, he lowered his hand back into the water and resumed washing, thinking that if he acted like nothing happened, they’d forget about it. It was a long shot, he knew, but it was the only thing he could think of.
“Mum!” Ginny yelled, still staring at the clock, “George!” No sooner had they looked up when the door flew open and George came surging in, still dress in his work robes of midnight blue and silver. Crossing the room, he gripped his mother’s shoulders when he reached her, slightly out of breath, “What’s happened? Fred just said to come home.”
“Where? To what?” Harry was taken back by the turn of events and the ease in which it came. “Professor, what exactly does the key do?” “It opens a lock, of course.” Dumbledore smiled and Ginny matched his with one of her own.
Mind Your P's and Q's
Too many questions and only a few answers.
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