The second chapter in the Harry Potter and the Final Flight series…for all you action freaks out there, you might have to wait a little longer for the fighting, but I promise it will be worth it. For now, just stick to a little more plot development and some sneaky people around privet drive…
Once again, I am not JK Rowling…if I was I would not have married a guy…it would have been a girl…cuz I'm a guy and not gay…oh…and Harry Potter would be different as well…
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Two days had passed since Harry had received the letter from Hermione and its deliverer had already caused hell. Uncle Vernon, being already prone to mood swings, had almost destroyed the whole house when he saw the tiny owl fluttering around in Harry's room. It had taken aunt Petunia, Dudley, and Harry's wand to stop him. The only reason why the previous two helped was because they were afraid of what Harry might do to Vernon if he attacked Harry; they didn't do it thinking of Harry's safety.
Everything that went wrong, Vernon now blamed Harry…he had gone from one of the ways Vernon vented his anger out to the only one. If something went missing: "BOY!!!"; if a creak of floorboard from anywhere was heard: "POTTER!!!". Life for those two days was a living hell. Even Dudley was keen on the idea of Harry as the cause of everything; he now tried his best to disrupt the household and point discreetly to Harry when asked who it was. Now, on the eve of Harry's birthday he couldn't wait for the clock to chime and for him to be out of there and on his way to the Burrow.
He anxiously paced the length of his room and every three times he paced it, he would look at the clock on his bedside table. Not much had changed in his room in the past few days apart from its cleanliness: there were feathers everywhere and an obvious appearance of a climactic struggle between Vernon and Pig, for everything in Harry's room was thrown about and disorderly. Pig stood where he had when he had first gotten to #4 Privet Drive-on the lamp in the ceiling of Harry's room. He eyed Harry as he trudged from side to side and gave him a hoot as Harry stood under him. Harry looked up and eyed him malevolently, "Its your fault what has happened these past couple of days…all I've had to go through because you can't control yourself." He looked back down to the floor, immediately feeling regretful about what he had said to his best friend's owl. "I'm sorry…its just that I am under a lot of stress right now and all I can do is wait until midnight so I can leave this house forever…I'm so stressed today that I've resorted to having in depth chats about how I feel with my friend's owl." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, feeling exasperated, while Pig hooted in a way that made Harry think he was laughing at him.
And I can't even owl Hermione back, he thought as he landed on his bed and looked at the ceiling. The weight of a summer's wait was now heavier than ever and he was feeling it. He felt his body weakening under a day's load and slowly, he began to relax. He started to look around his room for a way to entertain himself so as to not fall for the somnolence that was suddenly enveloping him, but his search was in vain. His eyes felt heavy and he struggled to keep them open. Slowly, he gave way to the feeling enveloping him-the serenity of the crisp air emanating from his window, the soft fluttering of Pig as he repositioned himself somewhere in the lamp, and the warm and comforting sensation of lying in his bed. His eyes shut, this time for good and he lay there, sprawled in his bed, asleep. Pig eyed him thoughtfully and began to accept that his action was not such a bad idea; he repositioned himself one more time, tucked his head in his fluffed-up feathers and closed his eyes.
The two sleepers in the room had been out cold for only a couple of minutes when there was a disturbance outside that, either they didn't pay attention to, or they couldn't pay attention to because they were preoccupied in their dreams. A shadow made its was across Harry's front lawn and stopped in the edge of the house, where it could not be seen because of the setting sun's dim light. Seemingly out of nowhere, another figure materialized out of thin air without a sound. "It is almost time…" said the figure that had walked across the lawn in a barely audible whisper; it was a woman's voice. "Yes, you are correct my dear, soon Harry Potter won't be protected by his precious love magic and it will be time to strike," Said the other figure, patting the woman on the back, "it is a good thing that you caught that stupid little owl in time, or else we would've never known where the Potter child was. That was some quick thinking on your part, Bellatrix."
She moved out of the other shadow's grasp and let the light illuminate her face-her features were bony and looked malnourished and pale, her hair was wild and disorderly, which transmitted the idea that she had not cleaned herself up in some time; she was an incredibly skinny individual with the appearance of someone who hasn't eaten in a while. Her skinny body was softly silhouetted against the dusk sunshine and she appeared nervous and edgy. "D- Do you think that the Dark Lord will have anything else to use us for when he returns to power? Are we just as dispensable as our little Potter friend? What will become of us? I'm really confused right now…no other time has my devotion to the Dark Lord faltered and yet now, at the eve of our greatest victory, I am having second thoughts…what is wrong with me Severus?" Snape eyed her thoughtfully, still shrouded by the darkness on the side of Harry's house. "Not to worry, the Dark Lord never gives up on the faithful…I mean, look at me." A slight smile was hidden from view by the slowly advancing night and as quickly as it had started, it was gone. "Let us report back. Everything is going according to plan. If we succeed tonight, the Dark Lord will rule…" Bellatrix smiled and Snape eyed her for a second, then turned and was, seemingly, wisped away with the wind in a puff of black smoke. Bellatrix stayed for a couple seconds longer, eying the window where Harry's room was thoughtfully, and then said to herself, "I hope…" With a soft breeze, she slowly melted away into the night.
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The shades that were keeping the room dark were lifted off of Harry's eyes and he awoke with a start. What time is it?? Was the first thought to enter his mind. He didn't want to waste a second longer in the Dursley's house after he had come of age; he wanted to leave as soon as possible. He quickly grabbed at the dark room for the clock and, being so forceful, toppled over the bed straight to the floor. He immediately got up and stumbled to the table. He eyed the clock thoughtfully: 11:45 p.m. There was still time left…he wasn't too happy about that. He slid down the side of his bed and sat on the cold, hard floor. Pig was still asleep by some miracle, considering he had made a raucous when he fell over the side of the bed, and his desk was still littered with pens, papers, and the two pencils in the center. Where's my other one? I kind of liked the color…he thought as he looked around his recently disheveled room for any sign of the red pencil. He stood up and started messily clumping all of the trash around his room to one side and as he did this he came across the pencil. "Damn…" he said aloud in an upset voice; the pencil was broken in half, "Uncle Vernon must've broken it when he was chasing Pig…" Harry eyed the pencil and then gave up on it and threw it in the trashcan on the side of his desk.
After messily tidying up his room, he sat back on the bed. A sudden pang of realization hit him. His gaze darted towards the clock: 11:55 p.m. He had been cleaning for ten minutes…impressive. Feeling content at his achievement, he lied back down on his bed to wait out his remaining five minutes in the Dursley's house. He was broken out of thought by heavy footsteps outside of his door. Harry's eyes opened wide in sudden realization, "I woke up Vernon…I made too much noise." He stood, petrified, waiting for the hurricane to come and destroy him. The footsteps became louder and louder and then the door almost exploded as Uncle Vernon tried to, simultaneously, scream, break down the door, and not sound nasally and congested. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU BOY?!?!" yelled the fat man that was standing in the doorway to Harry's room, so purple he reminded Harry of a grapefruit, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING MAKING SO MUCH NOISE AT MIDNIGHT?!?!" Midnight, Harry thought, midnight. He didn't pay much attention to what Vernon was screaming at him, his mind was entertaining the new thought…midnight. He slowly made his way to the desk next to his bed while Vernon shouted, "LISTEN TO ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU BOY!!!"
He didn't hear anything, though, he just kept thinking…midnight. He opened the drawer and pulled out his wand; Uncle Vernon froze, "You're not allowed…" he stuttered, taking a step back. "You obviously care as much about me as you care for a piece of dirt…today is my BIRTHDAY…" he smiled as he said the last word. Uncle Vernon scrunched up his face, apparently at a loss of why Harry was mentioning his birthday while pointing his wand at him, or having not been blessed with the ability to do the math. "So?" said Vernon, behind whom Petunia and Dudley were now standing, having been awakened by the fighting. They were both staring, fixated at Harry's wand. Harry chuckled and took a step towards Vernon, "I have come of age…I'm 17 now…I can……….use magic." Vernon's eyes widened and Petunia and Dudley recoiled in terror. Harry laughed and took another step forward, but when he tried to take another step, he was cut short. He had felt something strange-a sensation to hurt Uncle Vernon, to bite him, to kill him. He rubbed his head and tried to shake the feeling out but he felt it again. He let his wand slip from his hand as he felt the sensation again…hurt, bite, kill. He had only intended to scare his uncle, not kill him; he didn't even think he was capable of such a thing. He used both of his hands this time to clasp his head. Vernon smiled maliciously and he inched a little closer to Harry's wand, which had rolled a couple of feet and come to rest a short distance away from his current location. "S- Something's wrong…" stuttered Harry as he stumbled a couple of steps back. "AHA!!!" screamed Vernon as he clasped Harry's wand and held it up into the air, "NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO BOY???" Harry, trying to get a grip on his thoughts only managed to stutter one final time "Go…G- Get away." Uncle Vernon laughed as he played around with Harry's wand, "Or what???" Harry, this time let go of his head, and let his arms form into fists at his sides. Vernon stopped chuckling and stared at Harry. This time though, when Harry tried to speak, it wasn't his voice that came out. A cold, dark, snake-like voice emanated from his mouth; it wasn't his voice…but he recognized it. He smiled from ear to ear, a devilish grin that made Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley pale as he said, "Its been a long time Harry…have you missed me?"
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Well how do you like the story till now? I'm sorry to all you cliffie haters but I just had 2 leave u hanging…it's the only way you might actually think of reviewing…even if its hate mail…I WANT REVIEWS! Please…give me some motivation to write more if you really want to know what happens next sooner…the update will probably be in a week if I don't get many reviews to motivate me…so…readers…you know what to do!
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