I do not own Harry Potter or any original characters. I've been meaning to write this for a while now. Please be aware I began writing this on July 20th 2007. Anything that is the same as Deathly Hallows is by coincidence or a freaky twin link I may have with JK. I was listening to 'The Dark Lord Lament' by Harry and the Potters, that song is what finally told me 'WRITE THIS FIC! STOP PUTTING IT OFF!' Please enjoy, critique and review. Thank you.
Last time I attempt a potion without Hermione next to me
"Ron? Do you smell something burning?" Hermione asked.
"Probably just Fred and George." Ron went back to his Quiddich book.
"What's 'us'?" Fred asked.
"That smell is so not our fault. Harry was trying out a potion last I saw him. Maybe it didn't go too well." George answered.
Hermione and Ron shot worried looks at each other as the smell grew stronger. "Harry!" They shouted as they followed the smell.
"What?" He called back, between coughs. They made there way to Fred and George's room. Hermione whipped the door open and began fanning the fumes away form her.
"What were you doing?" Hermione scolded.
"Just trying out this potion." Harry held up a soaked piece of parchment. "I found it in your Potions book, the other day when I borrowed it. So don't give me that it's a bad thing to take stuff from mysterious books." He turned back to his mess, glancing into the cauldron.
"That was a potion I was working on. It wasn't done yet. Harry, don't touch that cauldron! We don't know what the potion does yet." Hermione ordered. She rushed to stop Harry's hand. It was too late. As Harry's hand touched the handle a light flashed before Harry's eyes, blinding him. He felt his body jerk forward and then back, he felt like he was back in the Dursley's car again.
Suddenly, he felt himself stop. He was falling, from the sound of the wind flowing past him, quickly.
He wrenched his eyes open to see a Firebolt fall after him. Harry turned his head to judge how far he still had to fall. Harry had just done this when his eyes closed again, this time out of pain and refusal to cry out more than blinding light.
He groaned, rolling onto his knees. He glanced around. He was at the Quiddich Pitch at Hogwarts. It was a match. From the looks of it Harry could tell it was a traditional Slytherin vs. Gryfindor match. Harry got to his feet, picking up his Firebolt in one motion.
Draco Malfoy flew by shouting something at him.
"This maybe a dream but it's not gonna be a nightmare. Look out Malfoy." Harry glared after Draco. He settled himself on his broom and took off. It felt good to play Quiddich again. Harry glanced around, catching the gold glint of the Snitch. He took off for it, glancing from side to side. No sight of the Slytherin Seeker. 'Where are you Malfoy? Showing you up is no fun if your not even gonna try to win.' Harry found himself thinking. The adrenaline kicked in as the Snitch and Harry closed the gap between them. His fingers closed around it, the thrill obvious on his face.
"Harry Potter's caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins!" McGonagall called obviously disappointed. Harry's grin fell. "What?"
"Good job Potter." Draco grinned, slapping his back friendly.
"Shove off Malfoy?" Harry snapped.
Draco seemed slightly taken back. "What's up Harry? We won. We're a shoe-in for the cup. What could be wrong with that? I mean even after that fall? The nerve of the Weasly. Thinks just 'cause her brother works for the Fudge she can do what ever she likes."
Harry glanced around him. As he turned his head to the side he caught a glimpse of his shoulder. Green. Harry glanced down at the rest of his Quiddich robes. Slytherin Green.