HARRY POTTER and the DARKEST NIGHT
Chapter 21 - Sunday Night Detention
By: Zero Star (zrostar)
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"What was all that about...?" Ron asked as Harry strode from the old professor's office.
"Did you tell him!" Hermione nearly shouted.
Harry paused for a long moment, it had been a weird few minutes. He wasn't sure why his head started hurting so badly or why it had stopped. Lethe had seemed to want to help him.
"Yeah..." Harry mumbled, feeling badly for lying, but not wanting to let them down and worry them either.
"Oh good." Hermione sighed. "What did he tell you? And what was going on in his office!"
"Sorry... I'm tired." Harry shook his head and slowly walked away from them both.
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances but stood in silence and let him go.
"Ron... I'm worried about Harry." Hermione turned to her redhaired counter-part.
"Yeah. Me too." Ron whistfully looked after his best friend, watching Harry make his way down the empty hall.
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The sun dazzled brightly over the lake, it was a few hours to sunset and the sky was still a beautiful clear blue.
It was nearing the end of summer and soon the fall would bring cooler weather and the leaves would change colors.
The sounds of the school could be heard everywhere.
Hagrid busied himself in the garden, planting various squash and removing the occational weed.
A few Ravenclaw first years were gathered in the courtyard pacticing spells from their primers. Their shouts and
laughs could be heard to the top of the astronomy tower. Professor Sinistra nodded a vague approval as she hovered around the tower on
her broomstick polishing the large, circular lens of her telescope. Occationally being dived at by the infamous Madam Hooch, the two
women occationally laughing at each other.
Harry watched the daily buzzing idly from his window, in the boys dorm of Gryffindor tower. He was trying to rest before dinner,
possibly his last meal before an untimely death in the castle dungeons tonight...or possibly a fate worse than death. It was a brief
moment he spent wondering what could be worse. He thought about being in potions class for the rest of his life, or having Snape as an
inlaw! What if he was maimed playing quidditch and could never fly again? Well... that wouldn't be so bad he told himself.
At least he could tell a great story about his injuries. Ron's obvious fear would be, being locked in a box with spiders.
Or locked in any box for that matter, forever. Eternity in a small dark place... would be hell. Lost and alone, no one could hear you,
struggling or screaming. Maybe you'd just give up after a while. Would you ever get used to something like that? Something like...
Like my dreams!
Harry jumped from his bed, sure that he could still see a stain on the floor from the black water he'd coughed up. The thought upset him.
Hagrid had told him once if something bothered him, he could write it out and send him a letter. Harry didn't feel much like telling Hagrid
his darkest secrets, today. But he did feel like writing it out, maybe it would make him feel better.
He flung open his trunk with a bang and began ripping through his clothing to find the birthday present Sirius had given him.
Harry's birthday was before the school year but never celebrated with friends. The Weasley's had given him a giant birthday cake,
Ron tossed in some of his repeat chocolate frog cards with an appology that he didn't have any money to get him a proper gift.
Hermione had given him a new quill and ink set, including an extra bottle of the red ink that Harry was so fond of using.
Hagrid bestowed Harry with an owl grooming kit to keep Hedwig at her best. Hedwig was grateful.
While sorting through his things which brought a smile to his face, it was good to feel loved, he finally clasped Sirius's gift,
at the very bottom of his trunk. Smooth and flat, Harry brought it into the light. It was still wrapped in black paper and a purple
ribbon clumsily wound around it. A white note stuck out at an odd angle. Harry carefully grasped it in his fingers and unfolded it to
read it again.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! I didn't know what to get you
as your friends probably know your tastes a bit
better than I. However, this was a very useful idea
for your father and myself in class. This journal
is charmed to pass messages back and forth. I have
the other journal that will recieve them. All you have
to do is tap your wand 3 times across the spine when
you've finished writing to send your message my way.
I dare say it's much safer and more convieniant than
sending owls. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner.
All my love, keep yourself safe.
Sirius
Harry just stared at his note for a long while, holding the book in his hands. If only he could have Sirius here with him, everything
would be alright... He settled himself on his bed once more, bringing the gift of quills and ink with him. He tore open the black wrapping
paper and set eyes on a black leather bound diary. The pages were gold trimmed and it felt light in his hands. It would be
easy to take it with him and large enough to write all could possibly say for the year. The cover was unadorned but the inside
cover written in Sirius's handwriting read a brief: "With all my love, to the infamous Harry Potter."
He smiled again turned the first page and scribbled a date, the first dream he could remember was about a month before school
had started. He wrote about vague nothingness, and was having trouble putting it into words. Nothing seemed to describe what
he'd seen. The only thing he could say was "cold and dark" or maybe "damp and flowing" that didn't work either...
He stared at the page for what seemed an infinity before deciding to draw a picture.
Harry scribbled and doodled until his arm was tired. Having a drawn faint red likeness of himself floating in the middle of
a black, black page. Art was never his field of interest, but he nodded approval.
For his next page he drew again the same dark field across the entire length of the paper, save for a little star like things
that seemed to glow red off in the distance. Again he nodded his approval.
The third page he wrote a few words: "I feel like I was trapped forever, like I'd been here forever. And something wouldn't
let me leave. But it seemed so long ago. I felt like someone else was talking to me, it sounded like a man. He was telling
me something but I couldn't hear him. All I could hear was this dull roar that made the same noise over and over again.
I was like half asleep. I wasn't awake but I could hear and see everything. I thought I saw something far away, but it was
so dark.
On the next entry he traced his own hands across two pages and drew chains around his wrists and filled in the rest with black.
A clock chimed merrily. It made Harry jump from his fury of dream translation. He put his glasses back on a looked up.
This clock did not tell time with irrelivant muggle numbers, but showed the viewer a much for useful time for that of wizards.
The large grandfather clock in the boys dorm showed a picture of a knife and fork and said 'Supper Time!'
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As Harry took his seat, he saw the young Gryffindors staring up at the head table. All the teachers were present, as well
as Amun Cherti, and Professor Lethe. Snape didn't seem quiet as ill in appearence, which was sad. But their eyes were not
looking toward's Snape. They were fixed at the far corner were Hagrid normally sat. In fact, next to Hagrid, alsmost out of
sight as the giant's figure seemed to hide him. An older man vaguely resembling Snape was seated. There were two shocks of
white hair, on either side of his forehead, that seemed to split his black maine in a skunkish fashion. He looked a little
older than Harry recalled from his portrait. His black hood and cloak draped the back of his chair. As Hagrid spoke to the man,
with a grin of enthusiasim. The other spoke back with limited movement of his face, but every time his lips parted, they revieled
a string of short pointed teeth. Every last one of them to a sharp point.
Harry's jaw dropped and he caught himself staring uncontrollably. The more he watched the wider his eyes and mouth became.
Mandragora's large nostrils seemed to issue a faint cloud of dark smoke whenever he took a deep breath to speak to Hagrid. At the end of each finger a long claw like point, the same Harry had seen in last night's detention.
"He's not eating either." Hermione didn't even blink, unable to remove her eyes. "That's the 3rd one."
"Something tells me," Ron's voice broke into a squeak. "We don't serve the kind of food he eats."
"Suddenly I'm not very hungry." Harry looked at the beautiful roast beef and large plate of boiled vegetables, mashed potatos
dripping in rich brown gravy. But all he could think about was detention. Alone. Tonight. With that man.
I had forgotten all about Harry's birthday in my first chapter! So here, I said something. ;)
I wrote the diary part here in a fury of typing, forgive any errors please.
FanFiction was giving me all kinds of hell after my return. But I've finally figured it out, so it will be easier for me to write/rewrite.
I am really starting to get back into my story, and yes yes ArikaPhantomess, I'll be fixing my many many many error's soon.
Oh and Eyeinthesky, your pen name happens to be the same as one of my favorite Alan Parson songs! yay :D