The Portrait from Godric's Hollow
Chapter 1
The figure lowered its hood, Stan Shunpike gasped and fell backward. 'Get away, you-you-you monster!' he shouted. His pimply face paled and he edged away from the figure. This was too much for the young conductor.
'Avada Kedavra!'
The Knight bus jerked and skidded onto a sidewalk. Ernie Prang's broken body was slumped against the indent of the bus, his glasses askew.
The passengers of the bus lay strewn everywhere, like toys scattered from a child's play box. The explosion had killed many of them.
The hooded figure was gone.Thirteen miles away, one Harry Potter jerked awake. He had dozed off. He was holding a leather-bound photo album.He stared at the open page,this would be the book that would hold the memories of the Potters. From their first steps to their respective weddings. When it was time, he would hand it over to his own children. There would be a time.
Harry sighed. Staring down at the two families, he realized how much they looked like one another. Ginny and Lily both had red hair,and he,Harry,was the splitting image of James.He hurriedly flipped through the pages, trying to avoid evoking painful memories. He reached the page where his own legacy started. At once he felt soothed and assured. It was all a memory. Everything was going to be all right. And then there was one with his son James in it. Then there was his daughter Lily. And finally his youngest son Albus Severus Potter.
Harry smiled as he saw the innocent face of his youngest son. Harry shut the book and put it away. He yawned and was prepared to turn in when he felt a sharp twinge on his head. The pain died. His fingers rushed to his scar and his heart began racing. His scar was hurting again. Suddenly, Harry’s scar seared white hot, and the pain shot through his body. He yelled. He had not experienced such pain for over a decade now. He wasn't too used to it. He yelled and collasped and his vision grew black.
'Avada Kedavra!'
The Knight bus jerked and skidded onto a sidewalk. Ernie Prang's broken body was slumped against the indent of the bus, his glasses askew.
The passengers of the bus lay strewn everywhere, like toys scattered from a child's play box. The explosion had killed many of them.
The hooded figure was gone.Thirteen miles away, one Harry Potter jerked awake. He had dozed off. He was holding a leather-bound photo album.He stared at the open page,this would be the book that would hold the memories of the Potters. From their first steps to their respective weddings. When it was time, he would hand it over to his own children. There would be a time.
Harry sighed. Staring down at the two families, he realized how much they looked like one another. Ginny and Lily both had red hair,and he,Harry,was the splitting image of James.He hurriedly flipped through the pages, trying to avoid evoking painful memories. He reached the page where his own legacy started. At once he felt soothed and assured. It was all a memory. Everything was going to be all right. And then there was one with his son James in it. Then there was his daughter Lily. And finally his youngest son Albus Severus Potter.
Harry smiled as he saw the innocent face of his youngest son. Harry shut the book and put it away. He yawned and was prepared to turn in when he felt a sharp twinge on his head. The pain died. His fingers rushed to his scar and his heart began racing. His scar was hurting again. Suddenly, Harry’s scar seared white hot, and the pain shot through his body. He yelled. He had not experienced such pain for over a decade now. He wasn't too used to it. He yelled and collasped and his vision grew black.