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Harry Potter and the Elements of the Phoenix | ||||
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Category: Pre-OotP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Genres: General Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 4 Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated since 2003 *** Harry finally realizes what a wonderful person Ginny is, and longs to go out with her. Ron doesn't see this with such a good eye, so Jawhara and Ginny make sure he is entirely caught up by someone else- namely, Hermione. And has Draco finally met his match? Yet as life goes on pretty much normally at Hogwarts, Voldemort's return can no longer be doubted. The Dark Lord has his eye once again set on Harry, yet, strangely enough, the Boy Who Lived isn't his only target anymore... As ancient legends mingle with a darkening present, Harry, Draco, Ginny and Jawhara must rely on a mythological power to save both Muggle and wizard worlds. Hitcount: Story Total: 3672 |
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Prologue The sky was streaked with red banners and golden clouds, and already had the purplish tone that announces the arrival of night. A fresh wind blew from the sea toward the land, carrying the smells of the ocean as a replacement for the lasting odor from the laurel trees nearby. The metal rooster, perched on the top of a lovely neighboring house, turned on its single foot in response to the breeze's touch. The green windows and the red roof stood out amongst the other gray houses surrounding this one. Near the back door of the house, two tanned arms emerged from either side of a long chair made of white plastic. They seemed to belong to a young girl, as did the leg that swung languorously in the dry grass. A few minutes later, the window facing the long chair opened. A woman emerged, probably in her mid forties, noticeable enough to attract glances wherever she went. She had long, black hair that fell on her shoulder in a wild braid. She had dark eyes, her face was the color of well-baked bread, and her nose had the flat, rounded shape that indicated an African ancestry. "Come to dinner, the salad is ready," she said in a low voice. "Maman, why do you have to speak to me in English? I still have one month before I meet my pen pal!" the girl reading in the chair answered. "I already told you, chérie, you have to get used to it. Come on, hurry up," the woman replied with a smile. The young girl got up from the chair, dropping a voluminous book on the ground. As she headed toward the house slowly, in a feline and graceful way, the lustrous cascade of her black hair shivered. Suddenly, the woman at the window seemed to catch a glimpse of something; her eyes narrowed and her lips twitched. "Jawhara, rentre dans la maison, immédiatement." (Jawhara, come into the house, immediately.) The girl didn't seem to question her mother's tensed tone. She sprinted to the door, and disappeared inside the house. In a loud bang, the great doors of the garden opened. A dozen hooded figures, dressed in black, surrounded the house silently. From their black robes billowing in the wind, they could be easily identified as Death Eaters. They didn't wait a second: a tall man pointed his wand toward the door, which literally blew up, while the others smashed the windows using identical means. They entered the house hurriedly. The wind rose, loud and powerful, and very soon a storm assembled above the garden. Dark clouds began swirling in a menacing ring while the wind penetrated the house, crying and ravaging everything as it passed. A furious scream was heard, shortly followed by an imprecation. "Avada Kedavra!" The green light shot out from doors and windows alike; a ray even flew up from the chimney. Every stone seemed to yell in pain, every flower and grass and wall suffered from a deadly blow. The Death Eaters stormed out from the house, bracing themselves for the tempest that barely left them standing. Directing their wands toward the house, they murmured, "Detructi petrum". A darkish red fire lit, and quickly became a gigantic pyre, attacking bricks as easily as if they were dry wood. The house collapsed, and the Death Eaters promptly Disapparated, leaving a burning ruin illuminated by a dying sun. |
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