Harry Potter [AU] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mini_potioneer) wrote2012-01-12 02:20 am
mini_potioneer) wrote2012-01-12 02:20 am
Entry tags:
Prose Sample for DS
Harry loved September 1st. It was his favourite day of the year, besides Christmas and his birthday. That was the day he would be going back to Hogwarts after the summer. He would be going home. He would sit on the teachers table between his father and the new defence against the dark arts teacher and watch the sorting like everyone else. And then after everyone had eaten he would get his mention. Professor Dumbledore would add his presence onto the end of every start of term speech. He always got chills when his name was mentioned and it didn't change as he got older.
September 2nd was fun too. All the first years would be running around getting to classes and Harry would simply stand on one the of the staircases and help direct them. Up that way or through this tunnel. It amused him to think that he would never been like that. He had explored in his own time without the worries these students had. And when all ways silent again, he would explore some more. There was always something new. It was Hogwarts!
Then came the second week of term and all the first years would be learning to fly. Harry loved this because from the age of eight, he was allowed to join in the lessons as well. He listened and learned the same techniques year after year, never late, never complaining and always practising. He sometimes even borrowed the school brooms to practice on the Quidditch pitch, wishing he could be part of a team one day. But he knew he had to be a sorted student first. And he really couldn't wait for that!
So, all in all, September was usually a good month. It was October that wasn't. October was the month his parents had died. October 31st. Halloween. Usually Hogwarts put on a feast in the Great Hall but for as long as he could remember, Harry had spent Halloween with his father in the dungeons. It seemed as though Snape couldn't handle the reminder, so instead he brewed potions. Harry didn't mind of course. He'd do anything for his dad and he enjoyed potions too much to complain.
But the year before Harry was due to start Hogwarts as a student, Snape changed their routine. He guided his son to the Quidditch Pitch, gave him one of the better school brooms and asked him to fly for him.
"'Course I will, Dad." Harry grinned and showed off some of the moves he'd learnt. When he landed, he asked. "Why aren't we brewing potions?" Snape just smiled and hugged him silently and Harry knew better than to ask again.
September 2nd was fun too. All the first years would be running around getting to classes and Harry would simply stand on one the of the staircases and help direct them. Up that way or through this tunnel. It amused him to think that he would never been like that. He had explored in his own time without the worries these students had. And when all ways silent again, he would explore some more. There was always something new. It was Hogwarts!
Then came the second week of term and all the first years would be learning to fly. Harry loved this because from the age of eight, he was allowed to join in the lessons as well. He listened and learned the same techniques year after year, never late, never complaining and always practising. He sometimes even borrowed the school brooms to practice on the Quidditch pitch, wishing he could be part of a team one day. But he knew he had to be a sorted student first. And he really couldn't wait for that!
So, all in all, September was usually a good month. It was October that wasn't. October was the month his parents had died. October 31st. Halloween. Usually Hogwarts put on a feast in the Great Hall but for as long as he could remember, Harry had spent Halloween with his father in the dungeons. It seemed as though Snape couldn't handle the reminder, so instead he brewed potions. Harry didn't mind of course. He'd do anything for his dad and he enjoyed potions too much to complain.
But the year before Harry was due to start Hogwarts as a student, Snape changed their routine. He guided his son to the Quidditch Pitch, gave him one of the better school brooms and asked him to fly for him.
"'Course I will, Dad." Harry grinned and showed off some of the moves he'd learnt. When he landed, he asked. "Why aren't we brewing potions?" Snape just smiled and hugged him silently and Harry knew better than to ask again.