Categories > Books > Harry Potter > MY BUNNY HUTCH
THE STRANGEST DREAM
5 reviewsAn interesting twist to the Harry Potter saga. AU and just for fun.
5Original
Alorkin
If you recognize it, I don’t own it. If you don’t…I probably don’t own that either. (Le Sigh!)
A/N: As with all my fics, this is dedicated to the memory of my sister FireLemming, who used to be my beta. She didn’t even follow the Harry Potter fandom, preferring TLK instead, and yet, would take time to offer much needed (and often unappreciated) critical advice. She was also responsible for the more esoteric touches. Having an expert in English literature, anthropology and mythology standing over your shoulder and making snide comments about your writing can be a pain, but it also makes research much easier.
"I don't know what you mean by wizard," said Frank, his voice growing steadier as he continued, reminding himself that the man with the cold voice had killed a woman, how he had talked about it without any kind of remorse -- with amusement. He was dangerous -- a madman. And he was planning more murders -- this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was -- was in danger. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too," he added, on a sudden inspiration, "my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back --"
"You have no wife," said the cold voice, very quietly. "Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows...he always knows..."
"Is that right?" said Frank roughly. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, My Lord. Turn 'round and face me like a man, why don't you?"
"But I am not a man, Muggle," said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man. However...why not? I will face you...Wormtail, come turn my chair around."
The servant gave a whimper.
"You heard me, Wormtail."
Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.
And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His reaction was instantaneous. With a bellow of utter disgust, he whipped up his walking stick and brought it down on the misshapen monstrosity’s head again and again!
Seeing the danger to her master, the tremendous snake struck, but the man known as Wormtail stumbled as she did and the reptile’s fangs lodged deeply into his back. Seeing that the disgusting thing in the chair was dead, Frank Bryce raced to the mantle, grabbed a ceremonial sword from the display there and swung it overhand, slicing the snake’s head off.
****
In Surrey, a boy woke from the strangest dream…
That's all, folks!
If you recognize it, I don’t own it. If you don’t…I probably don’t own that either. (Le Sigh!)
A/N: As with all my fics, this is dedicated to the memory of my sister FireLemming, who used to be my beta. She didn’t even follow the Harry Potter fandom, preferring TLK instead, and yet, would take time to offer much needed (and often unappreciated) critical advice. She was also responsible for the more esoteric touches. Having an expert in English literature, anthropology and mythology standing over your shoulder and making snide comments about your writing can be a pain, but it also makes research much easier.
"I don't know what you mean by wizard," said Frank, his voice growing steadier as he continued, reminding himself that the man with the cold voice had killed a woman, how he had talked about it without any kind of remorse -- with amusement. He was dangerous -- a madman. And he was planning more murders -- this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was -- was in danger. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too," he added, on a sudden inspiration, "my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back --"
"You have no wife," said the cold voice, very quietly. "Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows...he always knows..."
"Is that right?" said Frank roughly. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, My Lord. Turn 'round and face me like a man, why don't you?"
"But I am not a man, Muggle," said the cold voice, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man. However...why not? I will face you...Wormtail, come turn my chair around."
The servant gave a whimper.
"You heard me, Wormtail."
Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.
And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His reaction was instantaneous. With a bellow of utter disgust, he whipped up his walking stick and brought it down on the misshapen monstrosity’s head again and again!
Seeing the danger to her master, the tremendous snake struck, but the man known as Wormtail stumbled as she did and the reptile’s fangs lodged deeply into his back. Seeing that the disgusting thing in the chair was dead, Frank Bryce raced to the mantle, grabbed a ceremonial sword from the display there and swung it overhand, slicing the snake’s head off.
****
In Surrey, a boy woke from the strangest dream…
That's all, folks!
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