Fifth year and it is time to be resorted! This follows the BASIC story line of Harry Potter through fifth year and onwards. Different deaths and a different outcome, but will Harry and Draco feel like it was all worth it considering the amount they'...
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[Just wanted to share it. My friends and I were talking about Dobby and how he would look in Hawaiian gear and odd socks with sandals so I drew it]
"Harry, take out your invisibility cloak, you will need it." He should have packed it properly because he had to dig all the way to the bottom to grab it out. After he closed his trunk, it was whisked away as well as Hedwig’s cage. "Grab my arm Harry, we have somewhere we need to go before Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore held his arm out for Harry to grab, it wasn't like he could just say no, so Harry took it. All his limbs stretched and he felt every bone from his body go inwards. Gut-wrenching pain flooded his body. It was so awful Harry's eyes slammed shut trying to act as a pain reliever. It didn’t work. In fact, his eyes were forced open by them almost being snatched from their sockets. His grip on the man loosened as he lost focus on the task, however, that focus went back as they landed somewhere; a deserted town.
The clock tower was at 11:47 and was as dim as the rest of the place. Houses varied in size but all had the same style. Moss and ivy clung to the houses like it was their life line, it wrapped around bricks, windows and doors. In the centre of the town was a fountain, no water was spewing from the top- it looked out of use for centuries. It was cracked and chipped with a few wooden benches of the same craftsmanship scattered around it. Along the ground were sketches in chalk, a couple hopscotch games also- Harry never played that before. "You did well with side apparation, people normally throw up." "I think I prefer broom." Harry replied trying to keep his balance, "sirs, if you don’t mind me asking, why are we here?" "Good question, I'm here to ask an old friend if they would like to teach at Hogwarts. It seems, yet again, I am down a staff member." He began to walk, Harry followed, and “Some believe the position is cursed”. Maybe that was true; it wasn’t like he had the same teacher every year, something bad has always happened. Firstly, Quirrel was a mad one having Voldemort on his head, Lockhart was a fraud and lost his memory from his own spell, Remus had to leave because they discovered he was a werewolf, Moody wasn’t actually Moody but Barty Crouch Jr, and Umbridge was a pain who deserves to be in Azkaban. Harry looked at the man’s right hand to see it was all black, like he bruised it all badly. "Sir, what happened to your hand?" "Let's just say, my reactions aren't what they used to be Eventually, they reached a secluded house. Walking closer, the door was already open. Blood trickled down the broken wallpaper, settling in the cracks or going down to the floor. The chandelier shattered into fragments of the glistening gems, scattering about the floor that Harry had to watch each step he was taking. Pictures on the ground smashed and the walls were of a family of two, cushions on destroyed seats read things someone would get their partner after so many years of marriage. Except one chair that was a mixture of blue and white stripes in the corner.
