SnitchSeeker.com - View Single Post - The Coven of Sk'Natherra

Krysta · 05-02-2008, 04:53 PM

This is an alternative book 5, which was written after reading Goblet of Fire and before Order of The Phoenix was published. Here's chapter One, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Chapter One: The Village On The Ceiling

Harry Potter never knew the ceiling was so interesting. However lying on his back on his bunk, staring at it for 3 hours was taking its’ toll on his imagination. The cracks and water stains (face it, this room hadn’t been decorated since he and Dudley were crawling) had formed into streets and buildings, the minute bugs that every-so-often crawled across Harry’s vision were tiny little people making their way through his tiny little village. It was like having his very own Marauder’s map on his bedroom ceiling. Smiling faintly to himself (he hadn’t spoken to anyone for 3 days, and hadn’t smiled for almost a week, not since the last letter from Ron.) Harry began to give his imaginary people their own imaginary names and their very own imaginary tasks and purposes for being in the village.
A particularly intelligent-looking (he thought) ant called Hermine-oh-ninny (he sniggered to himself at the memory of Viktor Krum’s pronunciation of Hermione’s name) was in the library writing an essay, whilst a nasty-looking spider called Snape was eating a dead fly in the restaurant. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a small commotion as two bickering midges called Harry and Draco were head-butting each other in the mausoleum whilst two other midges called Crabbe and Goyle were flying around in mindless circles to the amusement of a small red stone-spider called Ron.

Harry was so busy sniggering at the midge versions of Crabbe and Goyle that he didn’t notice the movement on the other side of Potterville. When he first noticed it, he had a strange feeling that if he actually averted his eyes from the still spinning midges and focused on this new movement that it would disappear. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he turned his eyes to the left, squinting to get a better view. Sure enough a new black shape was making it's way quickly down the largest crack or road in the village. At a large intersection where cracks met like a crossroads or a town-centre the little black shape stopped and looked at him. Harry blinked. Yes the little black shape was looking at him. He squinted harder and lifted his head up off the pillow to get a closer look. What in Spirit’s name was it? At first he thought it was another spider, until he realised it was missing four legs.

“How many insects have four legs?” He thought to himself before hearing Hermione’s voice in his head instructing him that all insects have six legs, and anything else isn’t an insect. Ok, so what was it? He leaned closer still and almost fell off the bed when he realised what it was. Gathering his balance and lifting himself to a kneeling position he craned his neck up closer to the little creature on the ceiling, and sure enough, on closer inspection Harry could see a tiny garden spider-sized black dog wagging it’s tail and panting whilst looking downwards (or upwards, considering it was upside down on the ceiling) at Harry. Harry was just beginning to think he was losing his mind when another black image began making it’s way along another crack towards the crossroads. Not wanting to take his eye off the dog (which was beginning to look suspiciously familiar) Harry had to drag his eyes away to examine the newcomer. To his astonishment the second creature turned out to be a black cat.

“I’ve finally lost it.” Harry said to himself. But the way the animal was moving confirmed it. The jet-black cat slunk its way down the “street” until it met up with the dog. Harry half expected the dog - who by now, Harry was suspecting was none other that Sirius himself - to chase the cat away again, but as it drew closer to Sirius (he was sure it was him now) Harry could see that the cat was almost as big as the dog. It was also sleek and moved powerfully and when it sat beside the dog a looked down at Harry with brilliant piercing yellow eyes, he could see that it was a great Panther.
He stared back in complete silence hardly daring to breathe. The two creatures held his gaze for a minute or so before looking at each other. The cat licked its paw and used it to preen its ear then as smoothly and as sleek as it had arrived the great cat gave a little bow to Harry before leaving along the same “street” as it had arrived.

Harry watched it go for a little distance before returning his attention to Sirius’ Animagi form only to find that he had disappeared, and on inspection so had the cat. He looked over to the library where Hermine-oh-ninny was still writing her essay. Snape the spider had finished his lunch and was making his way back along his web via the roof of the Town Hall and sure enough, little Harry and Draco were still beating the hell out of each other whilst Crabbe and Goyle were still spinning dizzily in front of a bemused Ron. Harry guessed some things never changed.

The next day at Breakfast Harry sat chewing a piece of toast slowly and continuously whilst the events of his sleepless night played over in his head. It was beginning to feel like the whole thing had been a dream, and when Dudley came in with a smile on his face he pushed the thoughts aside and alerted his caution.

“Good morning, cousin.” Dudley greeted him cheerfully, sitting down on a stool at the table and poured orange juice. The look on Harry’s face was as though instead of saying “good morning”, Dudley had slapped him around the face.

“Er…morning…” Harry replied suspiciously. Dudley was humming to himself happily and Harry was becoming increasingly suspicious as Dudley, quite pleasantly, asked Harry to pass the milk jug. He did so without a word watching his cousin closely as though waiting for the smile to break and a nasty joke or prank to suddenly become apparent, for Harry could think of no other reason for his nasty, spoilt brat of a cousin to be nice to him.

Just then Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came into the kitchen together, which was highly unusual, and Harry’s attention was diverted temporarily. Uncle Vernon sat down heavily on a stool, which creaked in protest. He clapped Dudley on the back and grinned heartily whilst Petunia sang happily in the kitchen as she poured coffee for Vernon. She came to the table handing Vernon his mug and took a stool for herself, ruffling Dudley’s hair and smiling at him. They both ignored Harry. This didn’t really bother him, for two reasons: one, he was used to it, and two, the only times they paid him any attention was when they were scalding him or blaming him for everything remotely strange that happened. This morning however they didn’t seem at all interested in anything he either had or had not done, and Uncle Vernon didn’t even make his usual comments about the unkempt appearance of Harry’s tousle of dark hair. Pushing his glasses back onto his nose he discreetly watched each of the three Dursleys in turn with mounting suspicion. He was so busy watching their faces and waiting for a nasty change of mood, he hadn’t noticed that Dudley was tucking into four sausages and six rashers of bacon.

“What’s going on?!” exclaimed Harry suddenly, without thinking. Dudley smirked at him and shovelled in another mouthful.

“That fool of a so-called nurse at Duddy’s school has left and the new nurse says that a boy Dudley’s age shouldn’t be on such a strict diet, and since he’s made so much progress…” Harry hadn’t seen much of that in the past two years, but then Aunt Petunia had always been blind when it came her Duddy. “…That she says he can come off the diet plan and leave him to make his own decisions. Sigh. Our Duddy wuddy is growing up Vernon.” She beamed at Dudley as Vernon clapped him on the back again.

“Fine, strapping young man now, ay Dudley?” Dudley smiled back through the bacon rind caught in his teeth, and Harry didn’t miss the nasty grin he aimed at him when Petunia and Vernon weren’t watching. Harry gulped. This was bad, very bad. Not because he cared about his cousin’s weight but because Harry’s blackmail system was now obsolete. Harry had known full well that for the two years Dudley had been on the diet plan, he had been sneaking cakes, chocolate and crisps in through his bedroom window by means of his closest minion Piers Polkiss throwing them up to him from the garden. In the same manner as Harry himself, Dudley had been hiding them under a lose floorboard in his room until one day Harry had caught them at it. After a lot of death-threats from Dudley and fake curses from Harry, they finally came to an agreement. If Dudley and his gang left him alone, Harry would keep schtum about Dudley’s secret stash. Things were about to change, most definitely for the worse. Harry was just beginning to feel that this day couldn’t get much worse when there was a knock at the door and in walked Piers Polkiss himself with an equally evil smile on his face.

“Piers! My darling boy, come in, come in!” shrilled Aunt Petunia with delight. Piers beamed at her in his best attempt at charm.

“Ah, Polkiss. Splendid to see you ole chap. How’s your old man, boy?” Uncle Vernon greeted Piers.

“Very well, sir.” Began Piers in his best “talking to adults” voice. “Thank you very much for inviting me to go with you Mr. Dursley.”

“Not at all, not at all. It’s only fair that Dudley should have a friend with him, ay Petunia.”

“Oh yes, darling. The poor dear’s been starved and suffered long enough.” Harry noticed snidey, knowing grins exchange between Piers and Dudley, but his curiosity was heightened.

“Invited where?” he piped up, again, without thinking.

“Not that it’s any of your business, boy, but the family are going out to reward our son’s continued effort in his diet.” Barked Uncle Vernon. Harry was speechless. He gaped in utter disbelief as Piers and Dudley fought to suppress sniggers.

“But…” he began then stopped dead. He longed to tell his Aunt and Uncle the truth, eager to spill the beans on Dudley’s little stash under the floorboards. But one glance from his cousin told him that to do so would be a serious mistake, and that the rest of the summer would be extremely unpleasant for him if he did. It was going to be unpleasant enough now that the deal was undoubtedly off, and he really didn’t want to add to it further. He longed for the letter from Ron inviting him to stay. He simple couldn’t handle another six weeks with the Dursleys.

“What, boy?” began Uncle Vernon. “If you think you’re coming, you’ve got another thing coming. This is a family outing.”

“And Piers is going because Dudley wants him to.” Butted in Aunt Petunia as if to stop Harry pointing out that Piers wasn’t a family member. Truth be told, Harry couldn’t really care less. His last outing with the Dudleys hadn’t exactly gone to plan when he had accidentally (kind of) unleashed a Boa Constrictor loose on Dudley. Harry changed the subject by offering Piers some orange juice, playing nice in front of his Aunt and Uncle.

“Why? Wot you put in it?” Harry blinked at him. “Eeer, ‘e’s cursed it, I now ‘e ‘as.” Chirruped Piers. Harry stared at him.

“Harry! What have you done to Piers’ drink?” demanded Aunt Petunia in her usual high-pitched shriek.

“Nothing!” Protested Harry angrily. “I poured it straight from the jug.”

“e’s cursed the glass then!” whimpered Piers in a fashion Harry could tell was faked. “I feel all funny Mrs, Dursley.” He continued holding his hand to his forehead and making his eyes roll into the back of his head. Aunt Petunia screamed in panic, probably wondering what she was going to tell Mr. And Mrs. Polkiss if their son returned to them in this state.

“Don’t be so silly.” Harry yelled, getting really angry now.

“What have you done to him you little brute?” shouted Uncle Vernon going red in the face. Piers was beginning to sway on his stool now. Harry noticed Dudley was trying to hard not to laugh he was nearly falling off his own stool. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon however, were so panicked about Piers they didn’t notice this.

“I haven’t done anything! He’s putting it on! I haven’t even got my wand with me, I can’t perform spells without my wand, can I?” Harry practically screamed at his Uncle.

“How dare you take that tone with me you horrible little wretch. Un-do what you did right this instant, or believe me you’ll be sorry!” Uncle Vernon bellowed.

“I haven’t done anything!!” Harry screamed back. He couldn’t take much more of this. He’d walked out before, and he could do it again. He could pack everything and leave tonight on the Knight-bus.

Piers were clutching his belly in pretence of excruciating pain and began to howl. Dudley could contain himself no longer and burst out into painfully loud laughter and didn’t stop, his face turning the colour of beetroot, clutching his own belly in real pain due to the fits of laughter. Petunia screamed again.

“Oh Vernon!! Oh the brute’s got Dudley too! Oh make him stop Vernon!” she screamed again as Dudley began howling just as Piers had done, picking up on his Mother’s hysteria and exploiting it to worsen the predicament Harry was already in.

“The orange juice, Mum.” Moaned Dudley – not very convincingly, thought Harry. “It’s the orange juice, Mummy. Oh, make him stop it Mum! He poured my orange juice too! Ooooowwwwww!” he wailed again, causing Aunt Petunia to start screaming again in panic. Uncle Vernon grabbed the jug of orange juice and poured the entire contents down the sink as though it were arsenic. Then to be sure, he threw the jug into the bin as an extra precaution. By now Piers was beginning to ease out of the charade.

“Oh, I think it’s passing, Mr. Dursley. Thank you sir. Must have been the jug itself, sir, coz it started getting better when you threw it away.” Harry stared in angry disbelief at Piers. Just then Uncle Vernon rounded on his nephew.

“You!” he shouted with such vehemence Harry had never heard in his voice. “We take you in. We clothe you. We put a roof over your head, and you return us by trying to poison us.”

“No.” protested Harry again, but it was no use.

“Well Harry Potter, I shall deal with you later. I am not going to let your evil, dark magic ruin the day.” Harry glowered at him so angry he couldn’t even muster the words to protest his innocence. “Right now my family and my son’s friend are going out. You will stay here. You will stay in your room. And when I get home I shall deal with you. The only consolation is that next year you turn sixteen.” Dudley, Aunt Petunia and Piers were standing by the front door, ready to leave. Uncle Vernon joined them staring after him with mild confusion. On his way through the door he turned to face Harry one more time. The look on his face terrified him. “And then, my boy…” he growled, with a look of sickly pleasure “…you’re on your own.”

With that he slammed the door, Harry staring after him, the bewilderment remaining on his face long after the car had pulled out of the drive.

05-02-2008, 04:53 PM	#1 (permalink)
Krysta Jarvey Join Date: May 2008 Location: Leicester, UK Posts: 567 Hogwarts RPG Name: Krysta Hedwig Sixth Year Ministry RPG Name: Kye Black Magical Creatures	The Coven of Sk'Natherra - Sa16+ This is an alternative book 5, which was written after reading Goblet of Fire and before Order of The Phoenix was published. Here's chapter One, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Chapter One: The Village On The Ceiling Harry Potter never knew the ceiling was so interesting. However lying on his back on his bunk, staring at it for 3 hours was taking its’ toll on his imagination. The cracks and water stains (face it, this room hadn’t been decorated since he and Dudley were crawling) had formed into streets and buildings, the minute bugs that every-so-often crawled across Harry’s vision were tiny little people making their way through his tiny little village. It was like having his very own Marauder’s map on his bedroom ceiling. Smiling faintly to himself (he hadn’t spoken to anyone for 3 days, and hadn’t smiled for almost a week, not since the last letter from Ron.) Harry began to give his imaginary people their own imaginary names and their very own imaginary tasks and purposes for being in the village. A particularly intelligent-looking (he thought) ant called Hermine-oh-ninny (he sniggered to himself at the memory of Viktor Krum’s pronunciation of Hermione’s name) was in the library writing an essay, whilst a nasty-looking spider called Snape was eating a dead fly in the restaurant. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a small commotion as two bickering midges called Harry and Draco were head-butting each other in the mausoleum whilst two other midges called Crabbe and Goyle were flying around in mindless circles to the amusement of a small red stone-spider called Ron. Harry was so busy sniggering at the midge versions of Crabbe and Goyle that he didn’t notice the movement on the other side of Potterville. When he first noticed it, he had a strange feeling that if he actually averted his eyes from the still spinning midges and focused on this new movement that it would disappear. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he turned his eyes to the left, squinting to get a better view. Sure enough a new black shape was making it's way quickly down the largest crack or road in the village. At a large intersection where cracks met like a crossroads or a town-centre the little black shape stopped and looked at him. Harry blinked. Yes the little black shape was looking at him. He squinted harder and lifted his head up off the pillow to get a closer look. What in Spirit’s name was it? At first he thought it was another spider, until he realised it was missing four legs. “How many insects have four legs?” He thought to himself before hearing Hermione’s voice in his head instructing him that all insects have six legs, and anything else isn’t an insect. Ok, so what was it? He leaned closer still and almost fell off the bed when he realised what it was. Gathering his balance and lifting himself to a kneeling position he craned his neck up closer to the little creature on the ceiling, and sure enough, on closer inspection Harry could see a tiny garden spider-sized black dog wagging it’s tail and panting whilst looking downwards (or upwards, considering it was upside down on the ceiling) at Harry. Harry was just beginning to think he was losing his mind when another black image began making it’s way along another crack towards the crossroads. Not wanting to take his eye off the dog (which was beginning to look suspiciously familiar) Harry had to drag his eyes away to examine the newcomer. To his astonishment the second creature turned out to be a black cat. “I’ve finally lost it.” Harry said to himself. But the way the animal was moving confirmed it. The jet-black cat slunk its way down the “street” until it met up with the dog. Harry half expected the dog - who by now, Harry was suspecting was none other that Sirius himself - to chase the cat away again, but as it drew closer to Sirius (he was sure it was him now) Harry could see that the cat was almost as big as the dog. It was also sleek and moved powerfully and when it sat beside the dog a looked down at Harry with brilliant piercing yellow eyes, he could see that it was a great Panther. He stared back in complete silence hardly daring to breathe. The two creatures held his gaze for a minute or so before looking at each other. The cat licked its paw and used it to preen its ear then as smoothly and as sleek as it had arrived the great cat gave a little bow to Harry before leaving along the same “street” as it had arrived. Harry watched it go for a little distance before returning his attention to Sirius’ Animagi form only to find that he had disappeared, and on inspection so had the cat. He looked over to the library where Hermine-oh-ninny was still writing her essay. Snape the spider had finished his lunch and was making his way back along his web via the roof of the Town Hall and sure enough, little Harry and Draco were still beating the hell out of each other whilst Crabbe and Goyle were still spinning dizzily in front of a bemused Ron. Harry guessed some things never changed. The next day at Breakfast Harry sat chewing a piece of toast slowly and continuously whilst the events of his sleepless night played over in his head. It was beginning to feel like the whole thing had been a dream, and when Dudley came in with a smile on his face he pushed the thoughts aside and alerted his caution. “Good morning, cousin.” Dudley greeted him cheerfully, sitting down on a stool at the table and poured orange juice. The look on Harry’s face was as though instead of saying “good morning”, Dudley had slapped him around the face. “Er…morning…” Harry replied suspiciously. Dudley was humming to himself happily and Harry was becoming increasingly suspicious as Dudley, quite pleasantly, asked Harry to pass the milk jug. He did so without a word watching his cousin closely as though waiting for the smile to break and a nasty joke or prank to suddenly become apparent, for Harry could think of no other reason for his nasty, spoilt brat of a cousin to be nice to him. Just then Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came into the kitchen together, which was highly unusual, and Harry’s attention was diverted temporarily. Uncle Vernon sat down heavily on a stool, which creaked in protest. He clapped Dudley on the back and grinned heartily whilst Petunia sang happily in the kitchen as she poured coffee for Vernon. She came to the table handing Vernon his mug and took a stool for herself, ruffling Dudley’s hair and smiling at him. They both ignored Harry. This didn’t really bother him, for two reasons: one, he was used to it, and two, the only times they paid him any attention was when they were scalding him or blaming him for everything remotely strange that happened. This morning however they didn’t seem at all interested in anything he either had or had not done, and Uncle Vernon didn’t even make his usual comments about the unkempt appearance of Harry’s tousle of dark hair. Pushing his glasses back onto his nose he discreetly watched each of the three Dursleys in turn with mounting suspicion. He was so busy watching their faces and waiting for a nasty change of mood, he hadn’t noticed that Dudley was tucking into four sausages and six rashers of bacon. “What’s going on?!” exclaimed Harry suddenly, without thinking. Dudley smirked at him and shovelled in another mouthful. “That fool of a so-called nurse at Duddy’s school has left and the new nurse says that a boy Dudley’s age shouldn’t be on such a strict diet, and since he’s made so much progress…” Harry hadn’t seen much of that in the past two years, but then Aunt Petunia had always been blind when it came her Duddy. “…That she says he can come off the diet plan and leave him to make his own decisions. Sigh. Our Duddy wuddy is growing up Vernon.” She beamed at Dudley as Vernon clapped him on the back again. “Fine, strapping young man now, ay Dudley?” Dudley smiled back through the bacon rind caught in his teeth, and Harry didn’t miss the nasty grin he aimed at him when Petunia and Vernon weren’t watching. Harry gulped. This was bad, very bad. Not because he cared about his cousin’s weight but because Harry’s blackmail system was now obsolete. Harry had known full well that for the two years Dudley had been on the diet plan, he had been sneaking cakes, chocolate and crisps in through his bedroom window by means of his closest minion Piers Polkiss throwing them up to him from the garden. In the same manner as Harry himself, Dudley had been hiding them under a lose floorboard in his room until one day Harry had caught them at it. After a lot of death-threats from Dudley and fake curses from Harry, they finally came to an agreement. If Dudley and his gang left him alone, Harry would keep schtum about Dudley’s secret stash. Things were about to change, most definitely for the worse. Harry was just beginning to feel that this day couldn’t get much worse when there was a knock at the door and in walked Piers Polkiss himself with an equally evil smile on his face. “Piers! My darling boy, come in, come in!” shrilled Aunt Petunia with delight. Piers beamed at her in his best attempt at charm. “Ah, Polkiss. Splendid to see you ole chap. How’s your old man, boy?” Uncle Vernon greeted Piers. “Very well, sir.” Began Piers in his best “talking to adults” voice. “Thank you very much for inviting me to go with you Mr. Dursley.” “Not at all, not at all. It’s only fair that Dudley should have a friend with him, ay Petunia.” “Oh yes, darling. The poor dear’s been starved and suffered long enough.” Harry noticed snidey, knowing grins exchange between Piers and Dudley, but his curiosity was heightened. “Invited where?” he piped up, again, without thinking. “Not that it’s any of your business, boy, but the family are going out to reward our son’s continued effort in his diet.” Barked Uncle Vernon. Harry was speechless. He gaped in utter disbelief as Piers and Dudley fought to suppress sniggers. “But…” he began then stopped dead. He longed to tell his Aunt and Uncle the truth, eager to spill the beans on Dudley’s little stash under the floorboards. But one glance from his cousin told him that to do so would be a serious mistake, and that the rest of the summer would be extremely unpleasant for him if he did. It was going to be unpleasant enough now that the deal was undoubtedly off, and he really didn’t want to add to it further. He longed for the letter from Ron inviting him to stay. He simple couldn’t handle another six weeks with the Dursleys. “What, boy?” began Uncle Vernon. “If you think you’re coming, you’ve got another thing coming. This is a family outing.” “And Piers is going because Dudley wants him to.” Butted in Aunt Petunia as if to stop Harry pointing out that Piers wasn’t a family member. Truth be told, Harry couldn’t really care less. His last outing with the Dudleys hadn’t exactly gone to plan when he had accidentally (kind of) unleashed a Boa Constrictor loose on Dudley. Harry changed the subject by offering Piers some orange juice, playing nice in front of his Aunt and Uncle. “Why? Wot you put in it?” Harry blinked at him. “Eeer, ‘e’s cursed it, I now ‘e ‘as.” Chirruped Piers. Harry stared at him. “Harry! What have you done to Piers’ drink?” demanded Aunt Petunia in her usual high-pitched shriek. “Nothing!” Protested Harry angrily. “I poured it straight from the jug.” “e’s cursed the glass then!” whimpered Piers in a fashion Harry could tell was faked. “I feel all funny Mrs, Dursley.” He continued holding his hand to his forehead and making his eyes roll into the back of his head. Aunt Petunia screamed in panic, probably wondering what she was going to tell Mr. And Mrs. Polkiss if their son returned to them in this state. “Don’t be so silly.” Harry yelled, getting really angry now. “What have you done to him you little brute?” shouted Uncle Vernon going red in the face. Piers was beginning to sway on his stool now. Harry noticed Dudley was trying to hard not to laugh he was nearly falling off his own stool. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon however, were so panicked about Piers they didn’t notice this. “I haven’t done anything! He’s putting it on! I haven’t even got my wand with me, I can’t perform spells without my wand, can I?” Harry practically screamed at his Uncle. “How dare you take that tone with me you horrible little wretch. Un-do what you did right this instant, or believe me you’ll be sorry!” Uncle Vernon bellowed. “I haven’t done anything!!” Harry screamed back. He couldn’t take much more of this. He’d walked out before, and he could do it again. He could pack everything and leave tonight on the Knight-bus. Piers were clutching his belly in pretence of excruciating pain and began to howl. Dudley could contain himself no longer and burst out into painfully loud laughter and didn’t stop, his face turning the colour of beetroot, clutching his own belly in real pain due to the fits of laughter. Petunia screamed again. “Oh Vernon!! Oh the brute’s got Dudley too! Oh make him stop Vernon!” she screamed again as Dudley began howling just as Piers had done, picking up on his Mother’s hysteria and exploiting it to worsen the predicament Harry was already in. “The orange juice, Mum.” Moaned Dudley – not very convincingly, thought Harry. “It’s the orange juice, Mummy. Oh, make him stop it Mum! He poured my orange juice too! Ooooowwwwww!” he wailed again, causing Aunt Petunia to start screaming again in panic. Uncle Vernon grabbed the jug of orange juice and poured the entire contents down the sink as though it were arsenic. Then to be sure, he threw the jug into the bin as an extra precaution. By now Piers was beginning to ease out of the charade. “Oh, I think it’s passing, Mr. Dursley. Thank you sir. Must have been the jug itself, sir, coz it started getting better when you threw it away.” Harry stared in angry disbelief at Piers. Just then Uncle Vernon rounded on his nephew. “You!” he shouted with such vehemence Harry had never heard in his voice. “We take you in. We clothe you. We put a roof over your head, and you return us by trying to poison us.” “No.” protested Harry again, but it was no use. “Well Harry Potter, I shall deal with you later. I am not going to let your evil, dark magic ruin the day.” Harry glowered at him so angry he couldn’t even muster the words to protest his innocence. “Right now my family and my son’s friend are going out. You will stay here. You will stay in your room. And when I get home I shall deal with you. The only consolation is that next year you turn sixteen.” Dudley, Aunt Petunia and Piers were standing by the front door, ready to leave. Uncle Vernon joined them staring after him with mild confusion. On his way through the door he turned to face Harry one more time. The look on his face terrified him. “And then, my boy…” he growled, with a look of sickly pleasure “…you’re on your own.” With that he slammed the door, Harry staring after him, the bewilderment remaining on his face long after the car had pulled out of the drive. Last edited by Krysta; 05-13-2008 at 11:43 AM.