07-18-2003, 07:52 AM
Note: There are italics used in some parts, and I'm not sorting through this whole thing to insert BB codes in a twenty seven page lemon. Sigh ... PLEASE give me feedback. Twelve pages of this is exerpt but I didn't spend a week typing and thinking up ideas for this to be ignored. I know this is something a lot of people have been searching for, and since I cannot draw, I thought I'd do this much. Thanks.
-------------
I'm not going to stand here and act like a responsible person by telling all that crap about not reading this if your under eighteen or this is illegal to view in your jurisdiction because quite frankly, I don't care what you do with your time. Just don't get me in trouble...
Oh and I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters whatsoever. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is copyright 1999 Scholastic Books, all rights reserved. Please note that to make this fan fic seem more integrated to the book and realistic, it takes place in between actual excerpts from the book itself, so don't complain that I didn't write this. I thought it would be more interesting this way. It helps if you've read the book (the movie doesn't count) because in actuality, this is Chapter Twelve. There will be a notice where my actual writing begins. Enjoy!
Oh and please don't tell J.K Rowling about this ... ^_^
-Notorious
From "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, pages 205 through page 226.
Chapter Twelve
The Polyjuice Potion
They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told Harry to wait and left him there, alone.
Harry looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers' offices Harry had visited so far this year, Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting. If he hadn't been scared out of his wits that he was about to be thrown out of school, he would have very well been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.
It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat.
Harry hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping witches and wizards on the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the hat down and tried it on again. Just to see ... just to make sure it had put him in the right House-
He walked quickly around the desk, lifted the hat from its shelf and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much too large and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he'd put it on. Harry stared at the black inside of the hat, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, "Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?"
"Er, yes," Harry muttered. "Er - sorry to bother you - I wanted to ask-"
"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House," said the hat smartly. "Yes ... you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before" - Harry's heart leapt - "you would have done well in Slytherin -"
Harry's stomach plummeted. He grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Harry pushed it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.
"You're wrong," he said aloud to the still and silent hat. It didn't move. Harry backed away, watching it. Then a strange gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.
He wasn't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.
Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.
Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but he couldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ask on the floor.
The office door opened. Dumbledore came in looking very somber.
"Professor," Harry gasped. "Your bird - I couldn't do anything - he just caught fire -"
To Harry's astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.
"About time too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."
He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry's face.
"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flames when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him ..."
Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.
"It
-------------
I'm not going to stand here and act like a responsible person by telling all that crap about not reading this if your under eighteen or this is illegal to view in your jurisdiction because quite frankly, I don't care what you do with your time. Just don't get me in trouble...
Oh and I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters whatsoever. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is copyright 1999 Scholastic Books, all rights reserved. Please note that to make this fan fic seem more integrated to the book and realistic, it takes place in between actual excerpts from the book itself, so don't complain that I didn't write this. I thought it would be more interesting this way. It helps if you've read the book (the movie doesn't count) because in actuality, this is Chapter Twelve. There will be a notice where my actual writing begins. Enjoy!
Oh and please don't tell J.K Rowling about this ... ^_^
-Notorious
From "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, pages 205 through page 226.
Chapter Twelve
The Polyjuice Potion
They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told Harry to wait and left him there, alone.
Harry looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers' offices Harry had visited so far this year, Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting. If he hadn't been scared out of his wits that he was about to be thrown out of school, he would have very well been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.
It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat.
Harry hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping witches and wizards on the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the hat down and tried it on again. Just to see ... just to make sure it had put him in the right House-
He walked quickly around the desk, lifted the hat from its shelf and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much too large and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he'd put it on. Harry stared at the black inside of the hat, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, "Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?"
"Er, yes," Harry muttered. "Er - sorry to bother you - I wanted to ask-"
"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House," said the hat smartly. "Yes ... you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before" - Harry's heart leapt - "you would have done well in Slytherin -"
Harry's stomach plummeted. He grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Harry pushed it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.
"You're wrong," he said aloud to the still and silent hat. It didn't move. Harry backed away, watching it. Then a strange gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.
He wasn't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.
Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.
Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but he couldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ask on the floor.
The office door opened. Dumbledore came in looking very somber.
"Professor," Harry gasped. "Your bird - I couldn't do anything - he just caught fire -"
To Harry's astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.
"About time too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."
He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry's face.
"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flames when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him ..."
Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.
"It