I know I haven't finished my Kekkaishi fan fiction After Your Life, but I've lost my inspiration for it, so until I get it back I will be writing other fics, this being the first. Also this is my first Harry Potter fan fiction. Please tell me what you think. I know this first chapter is short and already starts right off with a cliff hanger, but that's just how I roll so...yeah...hahah ^_^

Harry Potter and his best friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger walk into the Great Hall as usual for supper. Classes that day had been particularly grueling, and all Harry wanted to do was eat and head straight to bed. Like that was going to happen, Hermione was already making plans for a study group the moment they returned to their common room to make sure they all get their homework done. Well Harry can dream can't he? Dream of his nice warm bed just waiting for him back in his and the other sixth years dorm room. All thoughts of sleep were pushed from Harry's head the moment the Great Hall doors swung open.

Once the doors opened a sense of unease hovered around him. Glancing around, he continued onward with his friends. He didn't see anything and no one else seemed to notice anything wrong so he kept to himself. Though the shadows seemed to flicker in anticipation and even the golden light of the candle flames seemed more like fiery eyes following him and waiting for something. Figuring it was just the paranoia of to many attempts on his life kicking in at an inopportune moment. Harry looked around the Gryffindor table as he, Ron and Hermione took their seats. The tables as usual were full of hustle and bustle, students talking animatedly with one another about homework or the latest Weasley Wizard Weezes products. Everything was normal, yet still Harry felt something was off. Looking around he didn't see anything out of order. All the students were acting like themselves, the teachers were themselves, nothing out of the ordinary.

The Hufflepuffs were the same as usual, all speaking politely and kindly to one another, never raising their voices unnecessarily. Keeping their gesticulations below the height of the table so as to not upset the cutlery and food adorning their table during the dinner meal. Harry didn't like how they never really tried to stand out, or go above and beyond the norm. Not since Cedric's death had another Hufflepuff shone out above the other houses. Was Helga Hufflepuff like that? Always so quiet and staying in line? There was no way, not with friends like the other founders. Nothing unusual in their antics and mannerisms.

The Ravenclaws were the same as well. Speaking about their homework, freaking out about not having their homework done yet, over analyzing their work, and excitedly discussing the latest books full of new knowledge. Their speech was fast and full of large words that Harry could barely fathom, let alone understand the meaning of. However despite their annoying tendencies towards being total know-it-all's and always accepting what they read as fact, Harry couldn't dislike them. After all one of his closest friends Luna Lovegood was a Ravenclaw, and though most called her loony, Harry knew otherwise, she was more the Ravenclaw than even the other Ravenclaws were. She truly lived up to the noble name of the Knowledgable Rowena Ravenclaw. Nothing odd there...well odder...

The Gryffindors...nothing new there. Loud and boisterous is the best way to describe them. Speaking loudly, then others speaking louder in order to be heard over the others, thus creating and endless bout of yelling. Harry flinched as yet another goblet of pumpkin juice was overturned by a young Gryffindors boisterous gesticulating as he regaled his friends with tales of his summer. Nothing strange with that...just slightly annoying...Harry may be a Gryffindor but he never understood why the Gryffindors were always so loud, hyperactive and annoying in everything they did. He found it hard to believe that Godric Gryffindor was nothing more than a loud and hyperactive child. Just because you were in one house didn't mean you had to act the steriotype. He certainly didn't...most of the time, and neither did his best friend Hermione. Glancing over at her Harry smiled as she grimaces at Ron's usual disgusting table manners.

Then there was the Slytherin table. As usual they were glaring at his table or more specifically him. Not all the Slytherins, granted, but majority of them. Again nothing out of the ordinary there. The Slytherins have always hated the Gryffindors, and the feeling is mutual, though Harry's always found it pointless. Harry knew that Salazar Slytherin didn't always hate his former best friend. So why does that mean that the two houses should always hate each other? He doesn't hate all Slytherins...just most of them...especially the Malfoys...THAT'S IT! Malfoy and his possy aren't at the table tonight! Now THAT is strange unusual and odd.

Looking up at the head table Harry scans the teachers as they all speak quietly to one another while simultaneously keeping their eyes on the students, ready to intervene should anything out of the norm occur, and realizes that Professor Snape as well, is absent from tonight's dinner. Though that is not unusual, Snape often gets called away for Death Eater meetings and the like. Maybe the Junior Death Eaters are off with him, hanging with Moldywarts and planning Harry's demise yet again...

Shrugging it off, after all if there was anything to worry about Snape would report it to Dumbledore and Dumbledore would relay any important information to Harry and his friends...right? Right! Convincing himself thus, Harry returns to his supper, chicken legs with mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, and a slice of zucchini bread slathered with butter, however he's not feeling very hungry anymore. The sense of something wrong stealing his appetite and replacing it with the feeling of rocks in his stomach. Taking a large swig of his pumpkin juice he whispered to his friends his desire to leave, and rose from the table, heading out of the Great Hall.

Harry got no more than a few feet from the Gryffindor table before he began to feel woozy. Ignoring the sensation he continues on his way out of the Great Hall, many of the students stopping their eating and talking to watch him leave, as if he was a model on a runway, or livestock heading for the slaughter. Wincing as the sounds around him began to sound louder than usual, and causing one hell of a headache, Harry shakes his head and keeps walking, feeling weaker the further he moves. His steps begin to falter as it takes all his strength just to keep one foot moving in front of the other. He reaches the Great Hall doors, feeling as though it was a huge marathon, the short walk having taken all his strength. He leans against the Great Hall doors his physical strength being sapped from his body, and replace by a burning sensation in his bowels. Slowly, he turns and locks eyes with worried baby blue, before his eyes roll back into his head and Harry crumples to the floor. The last thing he hears before the darkness takes him several loud screams, and wishing they would all quiet so he could sleep. He's just so tired.

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