A/n: I'm going to work on typing up my new story. I like this one. It's fun, I think, anyway. It's not done though. So updates might be really slow, because I really like to have stuff written out first in the notebook, and that can take a while with school. So… yeah.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. (sadly.)
Eight Summer's Time
fell in a messy tangle around the 15 year old's head, a sharp contrast to his
deathly pale skin. He twitched and shivered in his fitful sleep, trembling
silently. The small clock, red numbers glowing dully, continued to count the
time as the boy sat up rapidly, heaving for breath. Vivid emerald eyes stared
straight towards the wall for a moment, horror shining out of them. One thin,
shaking hand rose and reached out, as if trying to touch something. Harry
Potter's voice was shaky with tears and sorrow as he slowly let his hand fall.
"He was just a little boy..." He stared at the wall while the clock's numbers flashed, 6 turning into 7. The shift, faint though it was, caught his attention and he turned to look at the numbers. His lips twisted in a wry smile at the time, 11:57. In three minutes he would be sixteen, and, thanks to his visions and Voldemort, he would be awake to see it. Hedwig hooted softly and shifted in her cage, turning her attention outside the small window. A group of birds drew close, dark against the near-full moon. The clock clicked again, from 7 to 8. The birds took on shape, forming into several seperate owls, each hauling along with them a package or a letter of some sort. Thin fingers pulled the window open, letting in a wave of fresh air. The owls swooped in one at a time to land on his bed, even as the clock marked another minute.
Once all the owls were inside, Harry left the window, made room on his bed for himself, and began to take off the small box that Pig had carried all by himself. The digital numbers flicked to 12 o clock, midnight, of July 31st, and a bright light filled the room. Seconds later, as it cleared, the owls looked around, confused. There were no signs to show that the Boy-Who-Lived had been living in that room--the bed, which had been un-made and covered in bird droppings, was clean in less time then it took us to talk. His worn-looking trunk, having been at the foot of his bed just minutes ago, had disappeared at the same time, taking all the clothes, books, and even cakes from under the floorboard along with it. Even Hedwig was gone, which caused the other owls some worry for a moment. They exchanged looks, then flew off back to their owners, unable to deliver the messages. Pig struggled to stay aloft with the half-untied package.
Alarms went off all over the castle, shocking all the residents out of their slumber. Piercing whistles and wild sounds sent all the now-wide awake professors down to the Great hall. Albus Dumbledore, his yellow sleeping-robes seeming very out of place with his completely serious face, waited until everyone was in the Hall and more than ready for the sounds to stop. Only when the last professor had stepped inside did he let the doors swing shut and the noises silence. Heavy anti-eavesdropping and several strong silencing charms surrounded the room. There was no twinkle in the worried blue eyes of the Headmaster as he looked at his colleagues.
"Those alarms were the monitering charms on the dursleys, the wards, and harry Potter. The wards failed, the Dursleys suffered strong memory charms, and Harry has disappeared." Minerva clapped a hand to her mouth to cover her horrified exclamation. John Aldar, the DADA professor who was now going onto his second year, therefore breaking the so-called 'curse' on the job, leaned forward in worry.
"Did Arabella notice anything?" Albus shook his head.
"No; she didn't know anything was wrong until I firecalled her before coming down here." A few teachers sighed—it wasn't Death Eaters, or the kind Squip would have noticed and informed them. Her cats were wonderful spies when she asked them to be. Almost immediately, however, those few blanched as they realised what the rest had already figured out—if it wasn't the Death Eaters that had Harry, then who did? Albus shook his head and sighed.
"Any ideas what to tell the Ministry?" Slowly, words began to take shape as the professors overcame their shock and fear.
There you have it. A very basic prologue. What do you think so far? Let me know if you're at all interested in finding out what happens next! (and if you think it's very stupid; well, let me know that too.)