Harry Potter 6 (multi-author)
Ok. Well someone will start. since I'm not god at starting things ill leave that to somebody else. then somebody else can add on then again somebody else can add on. Have Fun! 💃 🐰
ohh..and i want some romance in the story...so if nybody has any ideas about who you want to get 2gether please share them! 😍
ok i'll start:
CHAPTER 1
Harry Potter was walking down a long, looking-endless corridor. Doors appeared by his side every so often. He came down here every night, searching for something, someone. Not just anyone. A certain man, his godfather. He missed him a lot. He refused to cry, he wouldn’t look a fool! Not ever! He still had to search though. He would search every night, all night, and every day if he could. And if he didn’t find his godfather, Sirius, Harry was sure he would come to him, although he was dead.
Harry turned right, through a door. The room was brightly lit, but something was lurking in the shadows.
“Show yourself!” Harry yelled. “You can’t scare me! Unless…Sirius? Is that you? Answer me!!” He wasn’t sure who it was. If it was Sirius, surely he’d show himself. If it was him, Harry would have reached what he had been searching for these last five, lonely weeks on his own. What if it wasn’t Sirius? What if it was Bellatrix, Sirius’ killer? If it was…
“If it’s you Bella, I swear I’ll kill you! Just like you killed Sirius!!!!” Harry screamed, furiously.
Something, or someone, stepped out of the darkness. It was a man, his hair scraggy and greying. He had a bald patch on the top of his head, and was very small. He was hunched over so he looked even smaller. Was it-
“Come Harry, come, follow me, and come to The Dark Lord’s den…”
Harry awoke, the scar on his forehead burning, as if ‘The Dark Lord’ himself had pressed white-hot flaming poker onto his head. Harry scrambled out of bed, pulled open his wardrobe, looked in the mirror on the door and saw himself, a short, pale, messy, dark haired boy of sixteen staring back at him.
Only a dream, Harry told himself, just a stupid dream. It’s nothing to worry about, at least this time you’re not Voldermort. You woke in time and you didn’t get hurt. Forget about it.
Harry Potter was not a normal boy of sixteen. He was as far from normal to a teenage boy of his age as you can get. Harry Potter was a wizard and, in a couple of months, was to attend his sixth year of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, or, as all of the students and nearly the entire staff called it, Hogwarts. The head teacher was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in the wizarding world. With the exception of maybe Lord Voldermort, the most feared wizard ever. Voldermort (or the Dark Lord by his followers, He Who Must Not Be Named and You-Know-Who by the people who feared him) was terrified of Dumbledore.
Harry’s owl, Hedwig, flew into Harry’s room and landed on his shoulder, giving his ear an affectionate peck.
“Hey girl,” whispered Harry, stroking his snowy owls smooth feathers gently. “Back from hunting? Did you bring me a gift?”
Hedwig pecked his ear again, and held out her leg. Harry untied the parchment from her leg, and immediately realised Hermione’s neat handwriting (To Harry). Underneath was also Ron’s untidy scribble: from us. Harry opened the letter and read:
To Harry,
Ron and me are at the Burrow, and I know you are so bored, but please do not be angry. I miss you, and cannot wait to see you. I know that Ronald is also desperate to see you, more than me in fact! Well, I guess you want to know what is happening here in the Burrow, and this is it: Okay, so Bill and Charlie are here, and Mrs Weasley is getting rather annoyed with them. They are forever having friendly (unharming-kind of) duels in the garden. Mrs Weasley keeps saying that they will ruin the flowerbeds. They just laugh. Percy has almost forgiven Mr Weasley, and is writing, so I suppose Mr Weasley is out of the hot water. Except whenever Mr or/and Mrs Weasley ask Percy to come over, he always says that he is busy. So they (Mr and Mrs Weasley) do not know what position they are in. Fred and George are always busy, either in their room writing schemes for their shop, which is doing great by the way. Ronald is- well, he will explain in his part of the letter, he says. And Ginny is quite pepped up about Dean, she is writing to him, and her crush has deepened, which makes Ronald somewhat angry, incidentally. Oh, he is moaning that I have been writing for ages, and wants his turn. Bye, Love Hermione!
Harry,
Alright mate? Hermione’s said all the stuff really. It’s annoying that she writes so much! ALL the time!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway, I know that you’re stuck in that hellhole of a house, but Mum and Dad say that they’ll come to rescue you soon. Dunno how soon soon is like. But I’ll make sure soon IS soon. I know that Bill and Charlie are here, making stuff interesting (along with Fred and George obviously) but Hermione and Ginny keep having these long whispered natters, probably about Dean…aah, Dean! You have got NO idea what Ginny is like at the moment! It’s Dean this, Dean that, “Ooooooh, guess what Dean said in his letter today?” and “Dean is going to blah-blah for the summer you know!” I’m like “YES GINNY I KNOW YOU HAVE TOLD ME A HUNDRED FLIPPING TIMES!!!” but she just does NOT listen to a word I say. It is so annoying. Hermione said I’d tell you about me. I’m fine, but Ginny’s being annoying so I keep shouting at her. Not that much though, just when she natters on and on and on (and on and on) about Dean. Which is all the time. Sometimes I just leave the room. Apart from that, I’m having a good time. I know that you’re probably not, so I sent some Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and some chocolate frogs over. Don’t worry; nothing from Fred and George’s shop is that dangerous. I made sure of that. There’s some other stuff in there too, mostly joke stuff, for you to tease you’re cousin with. There are fake wands, so you can have a bit “I’ll hit you with a spell” and there’s some Extendable Ears as well. Have fun, but if anything apart from the frogs, beans, canary creams, acid pops and fizzy whizzes in there are edible, don’t eat it. Especially the sweets that Fred gave Dudley in 4th year. Oh, you can eat the sweets that make you ill but make you well again, we made sure that the ones in there make you well again. So I advise that no one else eats the toffees either. Can’t say much about the you-know-what, I’ll tell you when you get here. I’ll ask Dad and send you a letter either today or tomorrow, on account that I dunno what time Hedwig got back to you. Hey, I’ve written more than Hermione!
See You, from Ron (and Hermione)
Harry finished reading the letter, a smile playing on his lips. Ron and Hermione missed him, and Ron’s dad, Mr Weasley, was coming to rescue him, and soon. One thing was not great though. Ron and Hermione were at the Burrow without Harry. Having fun without him, while he was stuck at, as Ron called it, the hellhole of a house, with nothing to do.
Harry ignored his jealous thoughts, and opened the box that was tied to Hedwig’s leg. He peered inside, at all sorts of treats, not all of which pleasant. There was, as Ron said, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, a load of chocolate frogs, and Fred and George’s Wizard Wheezes. There were fake wands, Extendable Ears (for eavesdropping in on conversations), some sweets and cakes too. Harry ripped open a chocolate frog, caught the frog so he could actually eat it and stuffed it into his mouth. The flavour filled his mouth, chocolate oozing pleasingly around his taste buds. Harry had not eaten anything as great tasting as the frog for a very long time. He had been deprived of anything tasteful; he had been eating slithers of lettuce and sticks of carrot for weeks. Dudley, Harry’s enormous cousin, was on a diet. Harry was small and skinny enough without having to join in Dudley’s ridiculous diet.
******
some more:
“No…Sirius…no…” Harry mumbled in his sleep. Once again he was dreaming of the night of Sirius’ death. “He’s…not…DEAD!!!”
Harry woke with a start, not for the fist time in six hours. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked out of the window. It was a warm, sunny warm day, exactly the opposite of his mood. Miserably, he tripped his feet down the stairs to the hall. By the sounds of things, Harry’s horse-like aunt and temperamental uncle were in the kitchen, watching the local news.
“You would think that there would be guards at every entrance, so things like this don’t happen! But, no! They just let burglars come in, take the jewels, come out and take off! Does anybody notice until the damn place closes? Of course not! They really get on my-” Uncle Vernon was moaning.
“Why, you’re pleasant this morning aren’t you?” Harry interrupted. “Stolen jewels eh? Ah, well, never mind uncle Vern-”
“BOY!!!!!! Shut up! Can you do anything that isn’t total utter cheek at all?!?!?!?!” Vernon bellowed.
“Shut up please, you’re getting on my wick.” Harry yawned, cool as an ice cube. Ever since Sirius died, Harry had been able to just laugh in his uncle’s face, without a trace of sweat on his brow. He strolled to the fridge and picked out the bottle of milk and took a swig. “Tasty. Where d’you get it?”
“Cheek!!!!!” Vernon raised his mighty (mighty heavy) hand to Harry’s face, trying to wallop him. He would have knocked Harry out, but he dodged it.
“Try again” Harry smirked and strode out of the kitchen to the front room, where Dudley was sitting, crunching on an abnormally large packet of salt-and-vinegar crisps.
“Alright Big-D? Give us a crisp mate,” Harry grinned, stealing a crisp from his obese cousin. “Mmmmm, I should eat these more often, save you from your mummy finding out that you aren’t sticking to your diet. Naughty, naughty boy.” Harry waggled his finger at Dudley.
“Shut up” Dudley grunted.
“Nah, I don’t fancy it. Any good telly on? Hey, what’s this? It’s a change from wittle baby tellytubbies isn’t it? Dear, dear, isn’t the pig of the house getting a big lad?” Harry teased Dudley, smirking again. It was a pleasure to see the rage on his face. Harry chuckled. “Well then, if Diddykins is all big now, Uncle Harry’s going out. Don’t worry; I’ll be back soon, Dinky Diddyums. Oh, wait! You’re a big boy now aren’t you?” Harry cackled as he slammed the door shut. The fresh, warm air hit his face. He took a deep breath of fresh air and sighed. Another night of wandering the streets, thinking of his friends, godfather, Hogwarts and the best wizarding sport in the world, Quiditch.
Quiditch was, in Harry’s opinion, the greatest sport ever. Seven witches and wizards played on broomsticks, and played the game with three types of balls. First there was the Quaffle, a large red ball, about the size of a football. The second type were the Bludgers, two round cannon-ball-like balls, used for knocking the players off their broomsticks. Lastly, there was there was the Golden Snitch. The snitch was a tiny, gold ball that flew extremely fast. Each ball had at least one witch or wizard to throw, catch or hit it.
The Quaffle was for the Chasers; they threw it about to each other, and aimed to throw it into one of the three hoops, and if the Quaffle was thrown into one of the hoops, the team who threw the Quaffle earned ten points. There were three Chasers.
The two Beaters, who each had a bat, used the Bludgers. The bats hit the Bludgers, either to protect the Beater’s other players, or to knock an opposite team member off their broom. The Seeker’s job was to catch the Golden Snitch, and when they did, it gave their team won one hundred and fifty points, also ending the game. The last team member was the Keeper, who guarded the three rings that the Quaffle goes through.
At the end of the game, the team with the most points won. Ever since Harry had joined his house team, Gryfindor, to be seeker, Gryfindor had only lost a single match, and it wasn’t even Harry’s fault that his hose lost.
even more:
At ten-thirty, Harry headed home, although it could hardly be called that for Harry. He was cold, bored and ready for bead. He was almost certain that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but at least he could see Hedwig, the only living thing at no. four Privet Drive that did not scoff and yell at Harry.
Suddenly, an old lady’s voice filled the air: “Daft old man, I will kill him! Kill him! The good for nothing worthless pile of bat drop-“
“Mrs Figg?” Harry asked.
“Harry! How are you? Good I hope. Yet how can you be, living with those pigs?!” Mrs Figg nattered away, “I do hope that they are feeding you?” She eyed Harry up and down. “Apparently not. Well, never mind, I’ve got something in my bag, one moment, let me find it…” Mrs Figg rummaged about in her bag, for some time, but eventually straightened up, and handed Harry a small parcel. “Chocolate cake” she smiled at Harry, “you quite clearly need feeding up!”
“Thank-you Mrs Figg, but I must get back, I’m already in trou-” Harry began.
“Yes, yes, I understand, those total monsters…well, see you later Harry dear! Don’t forget, if you aren’t being fed, pop around to my house, I’ll feed you up!” Mrs Figg hobbled off, muttering under her breath about “Useless muggles” (non magic people) and “That poor boy…”
Mrs. Figg, you see, was an old, batty not quite witch. She was a Squib, a muggle, born into a wizard family. So she knew all about the wizarding world.
When Harry got home, Vernon came down on him like a tonne of bricks.
“Where the devil have you been boy? Look at the time! Almost eleven! Dudley was in fifteen minutes ago!!!!!!!!!!!” He roared at Harry.
“Fifteen minutes? Does that even make a difference? No, not really. I’m right aren’t I? Goodnight, I’m going to bed,” Harry started to make his way up the stairs.
“BOY!!!!!! IF YOU DON’T GET BACK DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT, I SWEAR, I WILL POUND YOUR CHEEKY BACKSIDE!!!!!!!!!!!” Vernon bellowed. Harry carried on going upstairs, ignoring the roaring bellow him.
Hedwig was on Harry’s windowsill, quite content, waiting for her owner to return.
“Hiya girl!” Harry stroked the tip of his snowy owls head softly. “Are you going out hunting again? I hope not, I don’t really wanna be left here, in this place, with the worst muggles on earth. Hey, have some cake, Mrs. Figg gave it to me.” Harry put some (quite a lot actually) crumbs into the palm of his hand and held it out for Hedwig to eat. She did so, and look at Harry appreciatingly (not a word lol 😂 ).