Harry walked out of the castle, broom in hand and in a thick travelling cloak. (It was raining, and it was cold.) He swung his leg over the broom and kicked hard at the ground, ascending fast into the air. This was his place, the sky, the freedom, no problems could put the thrill of flying out of the young Potter’s mind. After few moments of flying aimlessly around, he set his course due north, towards Hogwarts.
The train ride passed uneventfully for Ron, Hermione and Ginny, excpet when they met up with the DA, who all became extremely nervous when they found out Harry wasn’t on the train. The Patil sisters and few other girls got close to crying when they heard that Harry hadn’t been heard of all summer and that he was missing. And so it was a somber group of Gryffindors that stepped out of the train that night. They hardly registered the classic yell of Hagrid that greeted them every year: “Fir’s years! Fir’s years! Over here!” And so they went into the castle alone.
Harry descended quickly, and landed in the shades of the trees of the Forbidden Forrest. He dismounted, put his broom at the side of a tree trunk, and started on his way to the grounds, when he suddenly felt a familiar flutter in the back of his head. He spun on his heal, bow out and ready, an arrow already on the string.
He was looking straight into the eyes of a Centaur, who, like Harry had taken up his own bow, aimed at Harry’s heart.
“Leave this place,” the Centaur instructed firecly, stamping his hooves down angrily. He glared at Harry for many minutes, like he was deciding wether he was a friend or foe. He then, when Harry made no threatning geasture lowered his bow. Harry did as well, though he kept it in his hand, and ready. The Centaur eyed him curiously, and when reaching Harry’s forhead, he nodded knowingly.
“Hello, Harry Potter, chosen warrior of light.” The beast, to Harry’s utter amazement fell to one knee and bowed low. He regained his footing, and looked the youth straight in the eyes.
“The stars foretold us of this meeting, and thus we have been waiting your coming here. Come, for you must be at the Centaur counsil!” The half-horse wheeled around and leaped ahead into the darkness.
Harry followed.
Kingsley Shacklebolt eyed the students carefully, taking note of each individual as they went past. He heard many whispers that, not surprisingly consisted mostly of theories of where a certain Potter might be. When the last student had crossed the threshold of the great hall, he sealed the doors with a spell, as well as setting a magical barrier around them, 2 meters in diameter. He then took his place at the head of the hall.
“Welcome,” he said, “to another year at Hogwarts. I am here to fill the post of headmaster of this school, and since I am no spokesman, I will keep this breef. Due to our war with Voldemort, many security measures have been put in place. No one shall travel alone. We will travel in groups, and a teacher will be placed with each and every group. No student shall be out of his dorm neddlessly. And finally.” He paused, fearing how they might react to this last note.
“I have heard many whispers of the name Harry Potter. It pains me greatly to tell you that he is missing. He hasn’t been heard of in quite some time.” He looked around the hall and noted many crestfallen stundents. Others simply stared blankly and some even cried, Gryffindor girls mostly.
“But we shan’t let that break our spirit,” he roared suddenly. “For we can win this war! We must stand together, unite as one, for Voldemort strides to create distrust amongst wizards and muggles alike, and if we let him get his way, we will most certainly lose this conflict of our age! Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws… Raise your glasses in wow to stand in unison againts the mighty foe we now face, whom we face together!” The students lifted their glasses in cheering and so did shockingly many Slytherins as well. Kingsley was a bit surprised at this, but the more the better.
“Well he lay this one out pretty well, don’t you think?” Ron, Hermione and Ginny were making their way up the stairs that ascended up onto the landing where the fat lady was hanging on the wall in her frame. She didn’t look pleased.
“Oh get a move on, I don’t have all day!” Ron looked at her skeptically and asked in an all-Ronald Weasley- kind-of-way: “Why don't you have all day? Aren’t you a painting?” The fat lady snorted loudly and swung to open the way.
Hermione chuckled softly. Harry wasn´t with them but at least some things would never change…
Lord Voldemort was pacing the floor of the chamber. He tried to seem at ease, but he was indeed worried. If he could trust the words of Wormtail, the Potter kid was missing. He didn’t have him, and the boy sure as hell did not have the ability nor the skill to survive alone. Where could he have gone? This wasn’t setting well with the Dark lord. He needed to know where his enemies were, and what they were doing. He had underestemated the boy before, and that could not happen again. Power was to be respected, no matter who had it. He needed to call in some extra help if he wanted the boy to be found, but he could not afford to give this out to one of his own, most of his trusted followers were tied up in other buissness, and could not be removed. He had to call upon his best spymaster, a vampire called Shadowstalker. He wasn’t thrilled by the idea, due to his loathing towards creatures that were not human. He pulled up a two way mirror, opened it and put it to his face.
“Vampire, to me now!” The Dark Lord waited patiently for a while, and then a black mist appeared in front of him and out of it stepped the unholy creature.
“You called?” the vampire asked, cleaning blood from the corners of his mouth.
“Yes! And you would do well to call me master! Now I want you to find someone of great importance. I want you to find the Potter boy, and fast.!” Shadowstalker looked at him with his cold blue eyes. He stepped toward Voldemort, and being just above 7 feet he towered over him. Their eyes met for an instance, and then he turned on his heel and prepared to leave. Voldemort war furious. Many had died just for looking him in the eye, and yet he allowed the creature to treat him so.
“What do you say? Will you do it?” Shadowstalker turned and shook his head.
“I may be a Vampire, an undead creature, but I still have my honor, and I wil not do it. Why? I do not hunt children, and nor does any of my clan. There is simply no gain in taking them.” The mist slowely started to appear and Voldemort snapped his wand out.
“Petrificus Totalus!”Shadowstalker was interrupted in his ritual, and fell backwards, his body rigid. An evil grin formed on Voldemort’s face as he approached and said with an unnerving calm:
“You will do as you are told or I will personally wipe out every single indevidual in your clan. Do you hear me, you filthy creature? Do you?” He flicked his wand and the vampire’s body relaxed. He slowely rised, all the while in an intense inner debate. His honor clearly forbade him to do it, but there was more to this matter than his own personal feelings. He knew that things would only become worse if Voldemort came to power again. He knew that they, themselves would be in an intense battle not long from now if he captured the boy. The good wizards left them alone as long as they kept to the cattle, but if he swore fielty to Voldemort, they would be forced to engage the wizards. But it might buy them some needed time to make arrangements. And what would happen when they had won the war? Voldemort would surely turn on them as soon as they weren’t needed. Of two ill choises the vampire chose the latter.
Harry moved swiftly through the thick forrest. He was soaking wet now, the dew from the leaves falling on him as he brushed by. He could hear distant shouting from ahead in an well lit grove, where a seemingly large group of people were gathered. As he got closer, he learned that the Centaurs were in an upproar about something. He then heard an all to familliar voice.
“I will not have that puny human ordering me around like some dim witted dog!” Bane was shouting, his voice already getting hoarse. Then another, the more smooth and sad voice of Ronan replied:
“We must. The stars foretold of this meeting and we have made a pledge to heed the call of the stars.”
“The stars also foretold his death in this very forrest when he first came here! That snake would have killed him if it hadn’t been for that traitor Firenze!” Harry was now close to the thicked that encircled the grove and could see Ronan shaking his head. No one said anything for a long while and Harry sensed that this would be the time he vould make the most impact on the assembled group. He stepped out.
“Grettings, most esteemed Centaurs!”
Hvernig fynnst ykkur?