You know….this is just a random writing tangent…whether I go on with this story or idea I don't know…I just felt like writing this…This is what I think will happen in the 7th book with a large twik in the picture. Tell me what you guys think!
Harry Potter sat contemplating the summer in his room, there was still another week before he came of age and he would have to leave. No, not have, get to leave. He sighed and looked down at the newspaper in his hands. Voldemort had been quiet lately, as strange as that was. Harry had figured with the death of Dumbledore there would be more attacks. So, naturally, Harry was actually quite worried, because this could only mean that Voldemort had something big planned. That was one thing he did not want to think about, Dumbledore's death. He hadn't really thought about it since the ride home on the train.
He stood and began to pace, a new habit he had began upon his arrival at Number 4 Private Drive. He was restless, and hated being cooped up in this house.
In a hurried movement he picked up a pair of shorts that he had thrown on to his floor earlier that day and changed into them. He snatched up his wand that had been sitting on his bed by the Daily Prophet. He silently trotted down the stairs and slipped out the front door and began to run once he had closed the door behind him.
Running had become one of his better habits. It was better then pacing in his cramped room. He did it much to his Aunt's and Uncle's protests. Ever since he had arrived home a little earlier from Hogwarts then planned, they had taken to watching his every move because of what Dumbledore had told them the summer before. They had expressed their annoyance about his early arrival and Dumbledore's visit the pervious summer the night that he had shown up knocking on their door. Since then they had attempted to regulate what he did, like when he ate-not that he ate a lot as it was, when he did the chores (not his chores because Dudley still obviously did nothing), when he woke up, etc; mostly because they didn't want him doing something as spontaneous as his showing up suddenly so early that summer. But Harry hardly let them take control of his life, no he had too much on his mind that he had to deal with. No, no one was going to control him, not even Voldemort.
Harry's mind instantly turned to the horcruxes when his feet hit the sidewalk. They were his primary target, next to Voldemort, but of course he had to destroy these before he could possibly imagine destroying Voldemort himself. There were four left to find, and it'd be a taxing journey he knew, but he had already started to make plans. The instant be became of age he planned on going to Diagon Alley, he needed to get money from Gringotts to pay for a place to stay, he also needed to go to many of the shops, especially Florish and Blotts, he planned on doing some research before he began his search for the horcruxes.
He jumped over a ball left on the sidewalk easily.
Also, if he planned on surviving his fight with Voldemort in the end, he had to discover new dueling techniques and new magics that he could learn and use. One thing that had made him curious over the years was Ancient Magic; he had heard Dumbledore mention it plenty of times when he referred to Harry's survival as a baby. He wanted to know more about it and if he could, learn it.
As he passed the park entrance for the second time it started to rain. He didn't stop running, not even when the thunder started to grumble threateningly in the sky. There was too much pint up energy in his system, and he felt like he could go on forever. The storm seemed to be giving him energy, though Harry found that quite doubtful, it was probably only the drop in the air pressure with the coming of the rain and the cool winds that pushed at Harry's back. The cool rain helped him relax, both his mind and body for a few moments.
Harry skidded to a halt as bolt of lightening laced down from the sky and struck a tree not twenty feet from him. He quickly turned away, covering his face with his arms. A jolt of energy rocked the ground and laced up Harry's legs. It felt strange. A few moments later Harry ventured to uncover his face again and looked up at the tree. It had a jagged scar that ran down the length of its trunk, bark had flown everywhere, and he had small cuts on his arms and legs where he had been hit by it. Curious he approached the tree vaguely aware of the people looking out their dark windows, the power was out in most of the homes on the street and the next street over as well.
A sizzling noise came from the hot scar that marred the tree's trunk. Harry stopped when he was about two feet away. It reminded him of his own scar, when it burned hot with pain because of Voldemort. That thought made him suddenly thankful that Voldemort was practicing Occlumency against him. Despite the fact that it was hot, he stretched out his arm as if he were planning on touching the scarred tree, but he never touched it he stopped when his hand was a few inches above it, as if all he wanted to do was feel the radiating heat. Quite sure that he was plenty safe because lightening rarely struck in the same place twice; Harry continued to stand by the tree. But this was one of those rare occasions.
As the lightening struck the tree a second time Harry Potter was thrown twenty feet from away as the vein of lightening lashed out at him as well. It was a strange occurrence, some watching would have said it looked as if the lightening had gone through the tree to reach the boy, but no one would believe such a tale, lightening did not decide where it struck. It didn't have a conscience, or a mind.
Laying spread eagled on the wet, but warm, pavement of the road Harry didn't move a muscle. That was out of the question, he felt as if he had just been released from the Cruciatus Curse. Nothing was working properly, he couldn't breath, his lungs didn't want to respond to his brains calling for air. He blinked slowly as things began to blur. Suddenly a dark for appeared at his side, they were saying something but he couldn't quite comprehend what it was they were saying. All he could feel was something burning and running through his body. His last faint thought was a wondering thought that questioned whether this was what it felt like to die. Slowly he slipped off into the darkness of oblivion.
"It was quite foolish for him to run out in the storm." Grumbled a voice strangely soft yet booming.
There was silence following except for the sound of paper being moved, "He'll be quite alright." Answered a soft voice, a man's voice that was actually quite a bit more gentle. "He'll have some scaring on his arm most likely, but that is all." The voice paused and there was the sound of paper being moved once more, "You can take him home once he waken up and we've had a good look at him. He'll most likely favor his right arm for a while, to keep from hurting it, but as long as he keeps applying the ointment it should heal just fine."
There was a gruff response from the former, who sounded actually quite displeased that the injured person would be ok. He obviously would have rather them have died or have lost something more at least.
To Harry, the injured person the two men were talking about, the conversation was taking a while to understand as he emerged from the dark depths of his mind. The word he caught were 'alright,' 'scaring,' and 'heal.' He didn't really understand anything at all. The two men continued their soft conversation nearby. Soon Harry knew all too well who was talking and why they were talking, and most importantly, why he was flat on his back in a place that smelled all too familiar.
He opened his eyes slowly, and looked about, the room was semi-dark, he had to assum it was night then. His uncle, much to his displeasure, stood by a window that opened into the hallway beyond with opened blinds not too far from the end of his bed, talking with a doctor who wore a white lab coat and held a clip board in his hands. Harry let out a low curse as he bent his wrist too far when he was trying to sit up. He clasped his right arm in pain.
"Ah, you'll have to be careful with that…" said the doctor, who had obviously heard Harry's exclamation. He set his clipboard aside and approached Harry. "You are quite lucky." He observed as he studied Harry, who was halfway into a sitting position still. "Had you been touching the tree you might have died."
Harry nodded and sat up, now only using his left hand as a support.
"What were you doing out in the storm boy?" asked his uncle gruffly, obviously being careful with his words because the doctor was there.
"Running." Harry answered bluntly, he enjoyed the full pleasure of seeing his uncle grow angry, but not be able to explode as usual; though he knew that he'd get it on the way home, or at home. "It was on my way back when the lightening struck the tree the first time."
"Why in the blazes did you approach the tree?" asked the doctor curiously as he took Harry's arm and started to unwrap it.
"Because he bloody wants a death wish!" exclaimed his uncle, for the first time not being able to contain his emotions, he received quite a dirty look from the doctor because of this.
Harry struggled to answer as he watched the doctor peel back the dressings on his arm. "I-I don't know why exactly." He paused, "Lightening doesn't usually strike in the same place twice does it?"
The doctor looked up from his examination and responded with a slight smile, "No, usually is doesn't." Apparently satisfied he began to rewrap Harry's arm in some new dressings.
Harry watched as the last part of his scared flesh was wrapped away from view.
"Now, every morning you must apply this ointment and wrap your arm with fresh bandages." Harry nodded. "We will give you everything you need. I would like you to come back in a month if you could, so I can check over your arm once more." The doctor turned away for a moment to pick something up, when he turned back he was holding a sling, "You'll need to wear this for a while too. Don't want you to bump your arm against something carelessly." He looked over at his uncle, "Why don't you go ahead and go to the front desk to pay for the bill, I'll help young Harry here get ready to leave."
His uncle grunted and left, only after giving Harry a look of annoyance.
The doctor set Harry's clothes on his bed and pulled the curtain around to give him privacy as he dressed. "Be careful with your arm." He warned through the curtain.
Harry, who already knew to do that much, gently pulled his shirt on over his head and struggled to pull on his jeans with one hand, some how though he managed to dress himself completely. "Finished."
The doctor pulled back the curtains and observed Harry's very baggy clothes. "You are not his son are you." He stated as he approached Harry to help him with the sling.
After a moment of hesitation Harry nodded, "He's my uncle." He winced as the sling seemed to cut into his arm, when in reality it only pushed against it a little.
"I would never have guessed." Said the doctor with slight amusement in his voice as he stepped back to make sure the sling was on right.
"My aunt was my mother's sister." he paused for a moment before adding, "Though; I don't look anything like her either."
The doctor laughed pleasantly and smiled at Harry, "Well you're good to go. Be sure to come back in a month."
Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure that he ever would get around to it with what he had planned for the next month. With a brief smile he left the room and walked down the hall, hoping he was going in the proper direction. There was surprisingly no one in the hall, but he assumed it was night, so most were probably in their rooms at the moment.
Harry jumped suddenly and nearly yelled out as something touched him, his good hand whipped around and patted at his back pocket; he found his wand there, shoved nicely into his back pocket, along with a folded piece of parchment he could only assume was a note. Immediately Harry knew someone from the Order was there. "Thanks…" he whispered quietly. He continued walking until he found the front desk and his waiting uncle.
The ride home was quite uneventful, but Harry knew what would be coming at him once his uncle was in the 'safety' of his home. Harry wasn't disappointed either, though his uncle was. Right after the front door closed by his uncle's hand Harry went up the stairs.
"Where to you think you're bloody going?"
Harry looked back down at his red faced, over sized uncle, "To my room, now if you have any objections to that you can yell all you want but I'll be in my room."
"How dare you-"
"Oh bugger off…" Harry turned away and walked up the rest of the stairs and went into his room, leaving his Uncle to fume.
Waiting for him was Hedwig with a letter attached to her leg, "Hey girl, sorry I couldn't take this away earlier." She nipped gently at the sleeve of his shirt as he untied the letter from her leg with one hand.
As he shook it open, Harry caught sight of foreign hand writing, he smiled slightly, it was from Flourish and Blotts saying that his order was in. There was a list of five different books at the bottom of the letter and the total price was written below them, he had two weeks to retrieve them. Harry tossed this onto his desk as he remembered the note in his back pocket. He removed both his wand and the note. Setting aside his wand he opened the note again by giving it a good shake after unfolding it halfway. He found Remus's familiar hand writing.
That was a close call, be more careful from now on. You gave the poor Order member on duty a heart attack when you got hurt. He retrieved your wand before the muggle officials arrived. We found that it was best you stayed off the charts and not to attract attention to you by taking you to St. Mungos.
See you at the wedding in a few weeks.
Keep your eyes open!
Harry had to admit he was quite grateful for them not taking him to St. Mungos. He smiled slightly to himself and set the letter aside. With a heavy sigh he dropped onto his bed, feeling suddenly exhausted. Slowly, he drifted off into a deep sleep.
As he slowly drifted back to consciousness Harry suffered through strange dreams. Dreams of dark clouds and white lightening, then fire, very green forests, and the deepest blue water. It was as if they were all molded into one. A bright flash made Harry sit right up in his bed.
The sky outside his window was cloudy, and looked as if it was threatening to rain. But it was a little light outside; the sun was up behind the clouds then. Harry caught sight of his clock and his eyebrows rose till they were almost in danger of disappearing under his fringe. It was nearing eleven in the morning. His aunt always got him up at eight.
Once past the shock of waking up so late, Harry remembered what the doctor told him. He had to use that ointment and put new bandages on his arm. He sighed and found the bag where he had dropped it by his door, and pulled out the required items. The ointment smelled terrible, much to Harry's displeasure, but the bandage obviously covered that up.
As he peeled away his old bandage Harry found that his wound looked very different from what he remembered it being like the day before. The night before when the doctor had been examining his arm, it had looked very wrinkled and wavy, like a sever burn (which was basically what it was). But now, it looked different, not as bad as before maybe. Harry waited to examine it more closely until he got the entire bandage of.
It did indeed look very different. The whole of his skin looked healed except for two, maybe three jagged lines that traveled up his arm. They started as one in the palm of his right hand and wrapped around to the back after dipping down to the heel of his palm just below his thumb. On the back of its hand it curved up towards his thumb slightly and then went towards the middle of the back of his hand some before dipping down to his wrist where it split into three separate lines upon reaching the bone the protruded slightly from his wrist. The new scaring veins traveled along his forearm in no certain manner, crossing at times. They stopped unevenly a little above his elbow.
Experimentally Harry stretched his arm and then risked touching the skin and scars lightly. It didn't hurt, at all. He couldn't deny that he was surprised by this, or that he thought it was very strange. The marks on his arm reminded him of the scarred tree. Harry continued to examine his arm for another few minutes before wrapping it again. He didn't want his uncle to become suspicious; at least he would only have to deal with it for the next six days. The worst of it though, was the fact that he was not going to get to run.
Author's note: Well I had not been expecting to sit down tonight at my computer and get to write this whole chapter! It's quite exciting really. I don't know that it'll ever happen again though, as sad as that is to say. I'll up date as soon as I possibly can, school has been keeping be busy lately so, forgive me if it takes me a while. And to those of you who are reading my other fic, yeah I'm sorry I'm starting another one, I'll just have to trade off time between them I suppose. Hope you all enjoyed it! And sorry if there are any mistakes, grammar, spelling, information, etc. I hope it turned out ok, I don't think it is my best work personally, probably because I'm tired. I'll be sure to pay more attention to the following chapters.