this book is wickid... write more...post post post post post post post post
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Originally posted by hotsauce6548is that really from the book
And the next part.Harry will fall a lot in the next few posts. 😛
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Something was there. Harry reached out. It moved back. He couldn’t reach, couldn’t grab it. He saw himself. How? He was standing just yards away. He extended an arm. His other self reached out, also. What was going on? He couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch, couldn’t know…
Something soft smashed into Harry’s sleeping face. “Get up, you bum.”
He rolled over onto his side, groaning. Why did Uncle Vernon want him up so early? Usually, he didn’t pay any attention to him…
“Get up! Breakfast is downstairs.”
Uncle Vernon made breakfast for him? This wasn’t right…
In an instant, his mind clicked and he remembered where he was. Harry sat up, looking at his best friend staring in the doorway of the room. Ron shook his head, turning to walk down the stairs.
Harry dressed and followed.
When he reached the ground floor at the bottom of the steps, something short and plump attacked him. It grappled him by the chest, hugging him tightly. “Good morning, Harry! It’s so good to see you!” It was Mrs. Weasley.
“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley. It’s good to see you, too.” Harry smiled.
“Well, come on, then. Breakfast is waiting!” she sung, walking back over to the kitchen, Harry following.
Fred and George sat, happily gobbling down an entire plate of bacon while draining three cups each of pumpkin juice.
“Hiya, Harry!” The twins spoke in unison, small chunks of bacon flying from their mouths.
“Oh, don’t talk when you’re eating, boys!” reprimanded Mrs. Weasley.
George popped a fresh strip of bacon in his mouth. “Shrrre, mum,” he said through the food.
Harry grinned.
“Hey, Harry,” said Hermione, beaming and hugging him. She sat back down.
Bill Weasley held out a hand as Harry sat down next to him. “Good to see you again, Harry. I trust you know Fleur.” He gestured to the beautiful, platinum haired woman next to him.
“ ‘Ello, Harry.”
“Hello, Fleur.”
Harry looked around the table again. Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, the twins, and Bill and Fleur were all sitting and eating at the elongated kitchen table. He wondered briefly why Charlie wasn’t there, and where was…?
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Harry turned to see who was coming down. It was Ron, followed by…
She was as pretty as he remembered. Her hair was longer, straighter, her face less freckled, but she was still the Ginny Harry knew since he was only eleven years old. She turned and saw him, eyes lighting up immediately.
“Oh,” she said weakly.
Harry grinned at her.
“Hello, Harry.” Regaining her composure, she waved and took a seat across the table, followed by Ron. He chose a seat next to Hermione.
Harry tried not to feel disappointed, but he knew that what he had said those few months ago had been true. We can’t be together… He’ll try and get to me through you…
Ginny had understood.
Mrs. Weasley broke Harry out of his silent reverie. “Toast and eggs, Harry?”
“Yes, please.”
As he began eating, Mrs. Weasley sat down, smiling broadly. She waited a moment, and then announced, “The wedding is this weekend! I’ve made all of the arrangements.”
Bill and Fleur smiled, sharing a glance at each other.
“Our guests will arrive by noon on Sunday, so I want you all up and ready early.”
Fred and George looked away, smirking and studying the wallpaper on the kitchen walls.
“That means you, too, Fred—George!” There was a dangerous tone to her voice.
The twins merely answered, “Yes, sir, mum!” and gave a facetious salute.
“I’m serious. There are some… important guests coming, and I want you all to give a good impression.”
Before Fred or George could answer, Mr. Weasley stood up. “Well, I’ve got to get to the office. I shouldn’t be home late.” He smiled, kissed Mrs. Weasley on the forehead, bade everybody good-bye, and disappeared with a crack, leaving Harry to wonder who the “important” guests were that would be at the wedding. The minister? That seemed the most likely bet, but yet…
“Catch in the hills?” asked Ron when everyone was finished eating and Bill, Fleur, and Fred and George had gotten up to leave for work. (Bill was taking Fleur to show her a particularly stubborn charmed lock in Gringotts that he had been attempting to open, unsuccessfully.)
By “catch,” Ron meant flying on magically enchanted broomsticks, throwing a round, crimson ball called a Quaffle to each other.
“Just a minute,” ordered Mrs. Weasley, standing up and walking into the living room. She re-appeared in a few moments and handed small, rolled-up scrolls to Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny.
“What’s this?” asked Ron when he grabbed the letter.
Mrs. Weasley didn’t answer. Harry opened the scroll addressed to him.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be re-opening to any student who wishes to come. The semester will begin for years 1-6 on September the 1st as usual, while 7th year students are requested to arrive on August 30th. More will be explained at the school.Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
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Just some set-up for what is to come. 😄
Originally posted by dagurlhoolived
omg, its unbelievable, im in such suspense! one thing though- it struck me a little weird how harry just went out right away and said to mr weasley"what am i going to do?"-it doesnt fit with JK's style, know what i mean, not that you arent sick awesome, POST MORE
Thank you very much. 😄
Yeah, I know what you mean. That scene's purpose was to show that Harry is becoming an adult--or already has--and is ready for his journey, but he doesn't want to do it alone, but he thinks he has to. I wanted to show Harry and Mr. Weasley's relationship a bit more. 😄
I cut off at a bit of an odd spot, but I didn't want to bore you with a long post. 😄
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“And these,” Mrs. Weasley gave each of them a second scroll. Harry opened it to see a list of school supplies required for the seventh year at Hogwarts. He looked at the books, reading them mentally but not really paying attention to the items. His mind was focused on one question.
Would he return to the school?
Without summoning a clear answer, he rolled the parchment back up and tucked it inside his pocket. That could wait.
“Right, then, mum. We’ll go tomorrow or something,” said Ron as he made his way for the door.
Before Harry, Hermione, Ron or Ginny could take a step outside, Mrs. Weasley spoke up. “We’ll go today. The Ministry has set apparition test booths in Diagon Alley. Anybody of age who has not passed the test in school can take it there.”
Harry exchanged looks with the others.
“They’re taking it as a…” she paused, searching for an appropriate word, “precaution. They want all of you to be as ready as you can be.” A grim look passed over her face.
“We’ll be traveling by Floo Powder. Come along, then,” she snapped, marching off into the living room. Harry noticed that—except for when she hugged him—Mrs. Weasley was in an increasingly bad mood. Perhaps stress? He thought it was plausible. The Ministry and Order must have been under tremendous stressed in light of recent events.
Ron looked surprised at his mother’s hastiness. “Why the rush, mum?” he called into the living room, glancing out the window. It was still early.
“Want to get there before the line becomes too long!” she answered back. Ron and Harry filed into the room, standing before the great fireplace. Hermione and Ginny followed.
When they were all in the room, Mrs. Weasley said, “Hermione?” Her tone was one of expectance.
“Of course,” answered Hermione. She smirked at Harry and Ron. “See you there!” With a crack!, air filled the space where Hermione had just been standing.
Ron grumbled and turned away.
“Ginny, you first.” Mrs. Weasley held out the small pot of magical Floo powder to her daughter.
Ginny took a pinch of it, stepped into the furnace, and said, “Diagon Alley!” clearly while dropping the specks of powder. A brilliant green flame roared to life and scooped her away.
“Harry?” Harry gulped, forcing down a lump that had formed in his throat.
He hated Floo travel.
Grabbing a pinch of green powder between his fingers, he stepped into the fireplace and readied himself. “Diagon Alley!” he shouted, and immediately he saw the fire sprout up to life. The flames licked at his body, warm—almost comforting—but then he was whisked away. He shut his eyes when the Weasley’s living room completely evaporated and the fire swirled around him at all sides. He tucked his elbows in towards his body, trying his hardest to make himself smaller. All the while the fire blurred sickeningly around him. Just when Harry thought he would puke, he was thrown down, landing in a crumpled heap, but still on solid earth.
Harry stood, wiping off his glasses. (He attempted to use a spell to clean them—realizing with a start that he could do magic legally now—but the glasses ended up getting dirtier, somehow. With a grumble, he swabbed them off with a corner of his shirt.)
Once he was dusted off, he had to dodge out of the way to avoid being fallen on by a grimacing Ron. “I hate Floo travel,” he mumbled, voicing Harry’s own opinion.
“C’mon. They’ll be out by the street,” said Harry, walking over to an open door. They had landed in a fireplace near the back of the book store, Flourish and Blotts.
Outside, witches and wizards of all sizes and ages milled about. While there was the usual buzz of excited chatter, Harry thought he sensed a hushed—almost strained—air lingering over Diagon Alley.
“Harry! Ron!” Down the street stood Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley, motioning for them.
“It’ll be this way.” Mrs. Weasley took off at a brisk pace down the cobble-stone road with the others following in her wake. It took barely a minute to squeeze past the other wizards and witches on the tiny street and come upon the building that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be looking for. “Here we are,” she stated triumphantly.
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Like I said, odd place to stop for now, I know. More soon. 🙂