AUTHOR'S REPLY--------Huh, I have been stuck for about two weeks now.
Sometime between last night and now, Fred and George had ran out to make a iced run, which in Harry's opinion, akin to a bobsleigh course.
"I have a bad feeling about this." he muttered in a low voice to Hermione.
"Oh, cheer up, Harry," she grinned excitedly, and dragged him in. "It'll be fun."
Fred was at the back again, and Charlie was stuck at the front worriedly.
"Where're the brakes on this thing?" he yelled.
"Just pull that red lever near your left arm." George told him. His voice was slightly muffled.
Fred pushed off, and almost immediately, the run became a blur of crazed light.
Ginny and Hermione cursed. "Why did you set this thing to go so fast?!"
"Because it wouldn't be as much fun if it weren't!" Fred roared back.
No one replied, mainly due to a large turn that forced Harry against his seat so hard that he felt as heavy as Dudley, and pressure squeezed at his face.
The end of the high-G turn brought gasps from the rest of the "crew", who were trying to recover.
The Rocketboggan fishtailed slightly, and went off a very large jump. Harry's breath was stolen from his lungs and his heart seemed to fly into his mouth, as they were free-flying. No one made a sound, except when Charlie whooped very loudly. Then....
CRASH!
They landed with an almightly noise. Hermione screeched like an overexcited eagle, Ginny grunted, and the breath was knocked out of Harry's mouth.
Before anyone could regain their guard again, the Rocketboggan was off, as insanely fast as ever.
The ride was ended when the sleigh banked off too high.
Everyone was all right after that, except Ginny. She seemed to be in shock.
"Again?" Fred asked.
Everyone yelled "No!", even George.
"No?" Fred said disappointedly. "Not even my own twin, eh? I thought you might've thought exact same as me."
"You didn't get your ear screamed off by Hermione's voice." George replied, digging a finger into his ear. Hermione flushed.
"Well, it was the fastest I've ever been."
Everyone looked at her as if she was stupid.
"Besides on a broomstick!" she finished impatiently.
"Someone snap Ginny out of it." Bill said, brushing himself off. George willingly obeyed, giving a profound facewash with a mittful of snow.
"Hey!" she said, protesting loudly. "I'm awake, I'm awake."
"What do you lot want to do now?" Charlie said, bursing a new bruise on his forearm.
"Go back inside" was the unanimous reply.
"It was more fun when the Order joined in the snow fight, remember?" Fred sighed.
"Yep," Bill closed his eyes and lay back in the snow. "Dumbledore was creative....poor Lupin. Got pushed to the ground by a snowman."
Hermione and Ginny laughed.
AUTHOR's--Because I am running out of filler. When I get a good idea, I update a helluva lot faster.
When they arrived back at the Burrow in the late afternoon, Ron was nowhere to be found.
"Where did Ron go?" Ginny asked her mother, worried.
"He's in the attic," Mrs. Weasley said, non-worried. "Minerva's just arrived."
Everyone looked at each other uneasily.
"Oh, stop the fuss," Mrs. Weasly chided them gently. "Your Transfiguration teacher will do just fine by herself. Once Dumbledore gets here, we'll fill him in and he can supervise a bit too."
"Can we go visit him?" Harry asked. He felt as if it was his job to ask, but all in all he was unsure whether he'd stay or watch Pig being experimented on.
"Sure, but only two at a time, Minerva doesn't need the distraction," she said busily, and went into the kitchen. "Dobby, dear, can you peel those radishes and chop them up finely? It'll make a great garnish. I'll just touch up the centrepiece one more time, a little extra glaze never really hurt anyone."
The twins, Charlie, Ginny, and Bill started up a game of Exploding Snap. Hermione and Harry exchanged glances with each other, and set off for the top floor, where the dusty staircase to the Burrow's attic dwelled.
"Have you read anything significant in the book I gave you?" Harry asked her in a low voice.
"Oh, yes," she said breathlessly. "A lot about Godric Gryffindor. He was a really good druid. You know, one of those - "
"Let me put it this way," Harry said patiently. "Have you read anything I would find significant?"
"Well..." she paused. "I found a picture of a floor plan. Of the Central Pyramid of Furmat."
Harry stopped dead. Hermione, trailing a step behind him, crashed into his back.
"Well, I guessed right, then." she said, grinning at him.
Harry frowned. "Hermione, there's been something I've been meaning to tell you and Ron. But Dumbledore might think Voldemort's trying to repossess me."
She looked at him intently. "You've been having dreams again."
Harry nodded, slightly guiltily.
"Well," she began, cocking her head to one side. "Dumbledore spoke with me, too. Told me that if I kept up a good, healthy relationship with you, you wouldn't get possessed."
"D'you think ours is good and healthy?" Harry asked, worried in a different way.
"I don't know," she said teasingly. "Personally, I think it needs a bit of spark to it."
"Hmm...." Harry dissolved into thinking and started up the dusty staircase.
The Weasley's attic was dimly lit and humid, the only source of illumination coming from a flared wand-tip. There were no windows. Harry could see Pig on a tray, McGonagall peering intently at him. Ron was in the shadows, and Harry heard the creak of an ancient chair.
"Is he all right?" Hermione said in a hushed voice, moving alongside Professor McGonagall.
"He is simply sedated, Miss Granger." she said, still immersed in examining Pig.
Harry heard a rustling, sliding sound behind him. He whirled, but could not see anything.
"What was that?"
"That, Potter, would be the attic ghoul," Professor McGonagall said impatiently. "Now, if you want to watch, I want you to be as quiet as possible, I need to concentrate.
As Harry watched, she flicked her wand, and a thin stream of sapphire bluelight emerged slowly. It wrapped around Pig, and lifted him three feet off the small desk.
Ron stopped breathing.
McGonagall waved her wand again, and the light enclosing Pig turned yellow, then a light green. The beam straighted out again, and retreated back into Professor McGonagall's wandtip. Pig dropped neatly back onto the desk, unscathed.
Hermione looked at McGonagall inquiringly, and she replied, "I checked if there was any magical devices, such as sound dust, on him. The light turned green, which meant there was none."
Hermione nodded, and headed for the stairs, not wanting to distract McGonagall, and not wanting to be too anxious of Pig. It was Christmas Day, after all. She nodded at Harry, who followed.
"I can't believe this is taking so long." Harry said, disgruntled. "How many things does she need to check for, anyways?"
"You'd be suprised," Hermione told him. "There are lots. Sound dust first, for example. And location fleas - they give the user the exact co-ordinates of the host. And there's a spell that makes the user hear through the hosts ears - "
"Yeah, I get the point," Harry said, cutting her off. "Any chance of seeing that floor plan that you've found in the book?"
"Of course." she said, and beckoned Harry to her room.
Harry sat alongside her, and Hermione flipped through the pages rapidly.
"Ah.....here." she said, pointing out a fold-out of the ancient floor plan.
A numbing excitement built up through Harry, he could see every layout there was.
"A few nights ago, I dreamt...."
He pointed to the miniature pool.
"This was an illusion. And then there was a spiral staircase....(He traced his finger downwards)...that led to some kind of huge entrance hall."
Hermione's eyes widened in wonder. "Harry, you actually saw it? That's incredible..."
"Yeah, but I woke up somewhere along here." he pointed near the end of the entrance hall, the opposite side where the other door was.
The pictures were rough.
"You have no idea what it was like," Harry said quietly. "These pictures don't tell you much. I was there....and it was magnificent."
Hermione stared at him . "Harry, you know what this means?"
"What?"
"It means that it is no longer myth, but fact."
"I don't know," Harry said hesitantly. "Part of me wants to believe it, Hermione, but you have to remember; I'm only dreaming."
Hermione seemed to ponder this for several moments, then turned her attention back to Harry.
"Could you see very well, or was it hazy? I mean, how was your perception?"
"It was very clear, all right," Harry said, starting to catch on. "Hang on....are you saying that if I can see it well, it's real?"
"Yes." Hermione said.
"Hmmm..." Harry thought about it. He very much wanted it to be real, of course, but part of him told him that it might be wise to keep hopes down.
Hermione told him: "Look, if it wasn't real, Dumbledore wouldn't have bothered giving it to you to read."
"You mean, Dumbledore believes it...that still doesn't really add up to the fact that it actually exists."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
"Nothing against him, of course." Harry said hastily.
Hermione shrugged. "Describe everything to me." she said, and gestured at the floor plan.
"Well, first..." Harry closed his eyes, willing his mind to conjure up the images that had haunted his dreams. "I'm in this courtyard place, right? In the middle of four pillars of stone. And there was a pool - Sirius was there, and he sort of pointed at the pool, like he wanted me to go in."
"And then?" Hermione asked slowly.
"Then I reached out to touch the water, right? But it wasn't water, only an illusion. So there was only one way to go, there was a staircase right in front of me, so I went down. And then, there was the entrance hall. Oh, it was a sight to see....there were huge pillars, and all these ribbons of green light, and glowing green runes. But I knew where I had to go, and that was the door on the other side. I was nearly there when I woke up again."
Hermione was awed. She regained her compusure, and tapped the map. "Well, apparently you've only gone a fraction of the way to the...there's some sort of Inner Sanctum, which is called....ooh, I know I've read this somewhere."
She flipped through the pages, taking care not to lose the map.
"It's called the 'Cavern of the Ancients'. And it's most likely the place where the armour is situated."
Harry scanned the floor plan himself.
"Look at this," he told her. "There's some sort of maze here. Right after where I left off in the entrance chamber. How'm I supposed to get past that? I'll have to, next time I have visions like this."
"Don't worry," Hermione said shortly. "When we went to the Department of Mysteries, you couldn't find your way, either. But you managed to in your dreams."
"Does it say what things guard Godric's Armour?" Harry asked anxiously.
"I don't know yet, I haven't read that far."
Originally posted by shef231
How often do you post any way?
How many more posts do you think it will take you to finish the story?
Do you plan to make any more fan fictions?
How old are you?
How many times have you read the Harry Potter books?
AUTHOR's---Been busy. And no one's been reading...right now, I'm just writing impromptu crap from the top of my head.
"When do you think you can finish the book by?" Harry asked, slightly anxious.
"Dunno really," Hermione said truthfully. "Maybe by the end of the holidays. Then I'll tell you everything important that I feel you should know."
"Thanks, Hermione." Harry said gratefully. He wasn't really sure that he would have the brains and attention span to read the entire thing in one go; maybe Dumbledore knew that he would have passed it on to Hermione.
Just before the start of the holidays, Dumbledore's Army was really beginning to shape up, and Harry was very proud. They had worked hard on everything, not one member failing to try their best. They knew what was at stake, they knew how important this training may turn out to be.
Harry knew that Malfoy had most certainly told his father about the DA, since it was Hermione's idea to post it up in the first place. The lucky thing was, that he didn't know the extent of their training, how skilled they had become; after all, Hermione had made each member swear to keep it as much of a secret as possible.
Maybe the Malfoys or other Death Eater families had started their own training program for their own little personal army. Which meant that Harry didn't know their extent of skills either. For now, it was best to assume the worst, that their private army was more skilled than his won, or rather Dumbledore's own.
"Harry?" Hermione said hesitantly. Harry snapped back to reality. "What're you thinking of?"
"I was thinking of whether the Death Eaters have their own type of DA." Harry said, shrugging.
"Well, I sure don't doubt that Malfoy knows about our army already," Hermione said darkly. "He knows approximately how many members there are, which is of course bad. But our advantage is that - "
" - they don't know how skilled we are." Harry finished for her.
"Precisely." she said, pleased that Harry had grasped this concept.
"How skilled do you think theirs are?" Harry said, worried.
"Not sure," Hermione said, frowning. "But the Death Eaters will be teaching them, and were taught by Voldemort himself. Im my opinion, I think it's wise that we assume they have an army in training."
"We need Dumbledore as a teacher then." Harry said. Why hadn't he thought of that at the beginning of the year?
"Not a bad idea," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I don't know whether he'd have the time, though. I mean, he is a busy man and all. But if he could...ooh, we'd have a good advantage."
"I could try and appeal to him." Harry offered.