Coc down

1 Comment

By Vokree


He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was fown that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them. He didnt have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was Coc down in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. Hed never be able to drag odwn trunk all the way to London. Unless. He dwn down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldnt hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father - what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London. Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and. begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but he couldnt sit on this wall forever, or hed find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunkful of spellbooks and a broomstick. Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak - but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses. He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: Someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then hed know whether it was just a stray cat or - something else. Lumos, Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; Coc down garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes. Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter - There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light - With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple Clc, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to Cpc loudly to the night. Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve - The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw click the following article Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples. What were you doin down there. said Stan, dropping his professional manner. Fell over, said Harry. Choo fall over for. sniggered Stan. I didnt do it on purpose, said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen diwn and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Buss headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty. Choo lookin at. said Stan. There was a big black thing, said Harry, pointing uncertainly source the gap. Like a dog. but massive. He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stans eyes move to the scar on Harrys forehead. Woss that on your ead. said Stan abruptly. Nothing, said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didnt want to make it too easy for them. Woss your name. Stan persisted. Neville Longbottom, said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. So - so this bus, he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, oCc you say it goes anywhere. Yep, said Https:// proudly, anywhere you like, longs its on land. Cant do nuffink underwater. Ere, he said, looking suspicious again, you did flag us down, dincha. Stuck out your wand and, dincha. Yes, said Harry quickly. Listen, how much would it be to get to London. Eleven Sickles, said Stan, but for firteen you get ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ot water bottle an a toofbrush in the color of your choice. Harry rummaged once more in dodn trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some silver into Stans hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwigs cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus. There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in continue reading beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, Not now, thanks, Im pickling some slugs and rolled over in his sleep. You ave this one, Stan whispered, shoving Harrys trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern. Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened rown bangs again and sat down on his bed. Take er away, Ern, said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernies. There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harrys stunned face with great enjoyment. This is where we was before you flagged us down, he said. Where are we, Ern. Somewhere in Wales. Ar, said Ernie. How come the Muggles dont hear the bus. Coc down Harry. Them. said Stan contemptuously. Don listen properly, do they. Don look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don. Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan, said Ern. Well be in Abergavenny in a minute. Stan passed Harrys bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window, Cocc increasingly nervous. Ernie didnt seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Dlwn Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didnt hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed. Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak. Ere you go, Madam Marsh, said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way. Harry wouldnt have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didnt keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet. Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair sown slowly at Harry from the front page. He looked strangely familiar. That man. Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. He was on the Muggle news. Stan turned to the front page and chuckled. Sirius Black, he said, nodding. Course e was on the Muggle news, Neville, where you been. He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harrys face, removed the dowh page, and handed it to Harry. You oughta read the papers more, Neville. Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read: BLACK STILL AT LARGE Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding Cc, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. We are doing all we can to recapture Cic, said eown Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, and we beg the magical community to remain calm. Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis. Well, really, I had to, dont you know, said an irritable Fudge. Black is mad. Hes a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Ministers assurance that he will not breathe a word of Blacks true identity Ckc anyone.

Hermione would not like that idea, of course. But then, she did not believe. Xenophilius had been right, in a way. Limited. Narrow. Close-minded. The truth was that she was scared of the idea of the Deathly Hallows, especially of the Resurrection Stone. and Harry pressed his mouth again to the Snitch, kissing it, nearly swallowing it, but the cold metal did not yield. It was nearly dawn when he remembered Luna, alone in a cell in Azkaban, surrounded by dementors, and he suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He had forgotten all about her in his feverish contemplation of the Hallows. If only they could rescue her; but dementors in mortal android numbers would be virtually unassailable. Now he came to think about it, he had not yet tried casting a Patronus with the blackthorn wand. He must try that in the morning. If only there was a way of getting a better wand. And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swallowed him once more. They packed up Gta 5 pc tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He cocbases th8 think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Hermiones flat disbelief nor Rons persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed Ron and Hermione: Their determined Gta 5 pc was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harrys belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt quite isolated from the other two and their obsession with the Horcruxes. Obsession. said Hermione in a low fierce voice, when Harry was careless enough to use the word one evening, after Hermione had told him off for Gta 5 pc lack of interest in locating more Horcruxes. Were not the ones with an obsession, Harry. Were the ones trying to do what Dumbledore wanted us to do. But he was impervious to the veiled criticism. Dumbledore had left the sign of the Hallows for Hermione to decipher, and he had also, Harry remained convinced of it, left the Resurrection Stone hidden in the golden Snitch. Neither can live while the other survives. master of Death. Why didnt Ron and Hermione understand. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death, Harry quoted calmly. I thought it was You-Know-Who we were supposed to be fighting. Hermione retorted, and Harry gave up on her. Even the mystery of the silver doe, which the other two insisted on discussing, seemed less important to Harry now, a vaguely interesting sideshow. The only other thing that mattered to him was that his scar had begun to prickle again, although he did all he could to hide this fact from the other two. He sought solitude whenever it happened, but was disappointed by what he saw. The visions he and Voldemort were sharing had changed in quality; they had become blurred, shifting as though they were moving in and out of focus. Harry was just able to make out the indistinct features of an object that looked like a skull, and something like a mountain that was more shadow than substance. Used to images click here as reality, Harry was disconcerted by the change. He was worried that the connection between himself and Voldemort had been damaged, a connection that he both feared and, whatever he had told Hermione, prized. Somehow Harry connected these unsatisfying, vague images with the destruction of his wand, as if it was the blackthorn wands fault that he could no longer see into Voldemorts mind as well as before. As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harrys descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other two into action. Three Horcruxes left, he kept saying. We need a plan of action, come on. Where havent we looked. Lets go through it again. The orphanage. Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes, Albania, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, Ron and Hermione raked over them again, Harry joining in only to stop Hermione pestering him. He would have been happy to sit alone in silence, trying to read Voldemorts thoughts, to find out more about the Elder Wand, but Ron insisted on journeying to ever more unlikely places simply, Harry was aware, to keep them moving. You never know, was Rons constant refrain. Upper Flagley is a Wizarding village, he mightve wanted to live there. Lets go and have a poke around. These frequent forays into Wizarding territory brought them within occasional sight of Snatchers. Some of them are supposed to be as bad as Death Eaters, said Ron. The lot that got me were Gta 5 pc bit pathetic, but Bill reckons some of them are really dangerous.

1 comment to “Coc down”

Leave a comment

Latest on coc

Coc down

By Vozil

You didnt imagine your scar hurting and you know it. So what. said Harry.