CREATIVE WRITING

I just thought I'd open an own thread for this...please DO NOT comment here, I want this to just be the story. Post comments, opinions, tips etc in the general "Harry Potter Seven Contest" thread, okay?

Here's the first half of chapter one (ch. 1 is finished, but I haven't typed it all up yet. Maybe more later)

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. This is a fanfiction story, not written for profit, but just for fun. All characters and situations described belong to JK Rowling.

And now, on to the first half of the first chapter:

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Chapter One: The Calm Before The Storm


All was silent around the tidy houses of Privet Drive on that late July evening. Gusts of wind and dark clouds were already foreshadowing a coming summer storm, and several men and women in similar tidy clothes were cleaning chairs and flowerpots away from their terraces and driving their cars into the garage, in order to protect them from nature’s sheer energy that was threatening to destroy their perfect idyll by knocking down branches or – God forbid –bringing hail.
None of these concerns, however, mattered much to the three teenagers sitting in a room upstairs in Number Four. They alone, of all the people in this street, knew that there was enough to worry without minding the weather, and that there were things out there so threatening that storm and hail and lightning looked tame and nice against it. The window was open wide, to let in any breeze that might cool the room a little. It had been very hot, and the air was so sticky it seemed like it could be cut with a knife.
They had experienced their own personal storm when, a few weeks ago, Harry had arrived home two weeks earlier than expected, and accompanied by two other magical people. All right, the Dursleys might have been prepared, had they bothered to read either the official letter Hogwarts had sent or their nephew’s letter, but they had thrown them away immediately.
And even though none of the three could figure out how exactly they had done it, they had somehow convinced the Dursleys to let them stay. They had, ever since, shared the small room upstairs Harry always took up while he was at home, mainly spending their days outside and their money on food, for Petunia Dursley seemed to consider it a personal affront to be asked to give food to these unwanted visitors.
The Dursleys’ antipathy towards them had, however, not been the worst they had experienced lately. Almost every day the papers, both Muggle and magical, were reporting new horror stories. And while the Muggle journalists were clueless as to what exactly these “acts of terrorism”, as they considered these events to be, were about, all the members of the magical community, including the three friends at Privet Drive, knew exactly what was going on. The war had broken out fully now.
Hermione, sitting at the window in order to reread today’s Daily Prophet by the last light filtering through the dark clouds, looked up at the other two when a particularly strong wind almost ripped the paper from her grip. Both boys were sitting on the bed, not really doing anything. Except waiting for the storm, both the literal and the metaphorical one. Both were bound to come soon, they were sure. Ron, having quickly averted his eyes from Hermione when she looked up, was the first in the room to speak after almost an hour of silence: “Something wrong, Hermione?” The addressed girl came over the sit at the bed beside them, folding the paper neatly and putting it on the bedside table. “I just have this feeling – that something is going to happen soon. Something bad.” Ron shrugged, grabbing the paper and pretending to reread the article about the ministry’s efforts to revoke certain laws from the first war against Voldemort, granting the aurors the right to use the Unforgivable curses. But it was obvious that he was not reading at all, while hiding his smile behind the paper. “You are not Professor Trelawney under influence of Polyjuice potion, are you? I mean, knowing what is about to happen?” Hermione threw an angry look at him.
Harry had, however, understood what Hermione had meant, and he was certain Ron did, as well, although he tried to brush his fear off by joking about it. When Harry spoke up, he tried to express he understood them both, and yet remain neutral. After stating this, he added: “You mean that it has been too quiet here, don’t you? Everywhere, there’s attacks and horror, but nothing has happened close here. It’s as though they are saving their strike here until they have gathered enough forces.”
Outside, the first flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and all three of them involuntarily sat straight upright.