Life and other things

Once upon a time {enter the exact same story of Princess and the Pea except it's a Marble instead because that makes so much more sense than a soft squishy pea}. The End

(Everything depicted in this blog is a true story as it happened in my dream) Harry woke to two arguing voices near by. He was inside the tower. It wasn't very bright in there and not very clean. "He will use the killing curse this time, you fool!" "Maybe... but I'm sick of living like this, there is no one interesting here... all we have are deatheaters to talk to and you know how pleasant they can be." Said the second voice. "You're spoiled... that's it. Spoiled little brat! Anya and I are trying to stay alive and you're going to risk our lives so you can have AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION!!!!" The second voice sighed and replied, "This boy will help you stay alive Rina. I have a plan. Listen, you know how he gets when he hasn't killed or tortured in a while - well now instead of you two he'll have him." Silence. Harry could feel their eyes burrowing into his back, he jerked. They came over and the owner of the

So, this was a dream. The prologue suggests that we are entering an alternate reality because of one minor decision change Voldemort made. He chose Neville Longbottom as the boy in the prophecy and killed him. Fast forward 12 years. The world in an post nuclear war state. The sky is dark, gloomy and polluted. Buildings are in rubble everywhere. Wizards and witches are on the run if they haven't joined the dark lord already. Muggles are slaves. We drop from the sky down to the bottom of a large pile of rubble. ---------------------***********************--------------------- A tiny 12 year old Harry was climbing up to the top of a large mountainous pile of rubble. His clothes were torn and dirty, his hair were a mix of dried mud and blood. His glasses were broken, with only one glass on the right eye. He was barely skin and bones, his weakness showed in the trembling of his arms and legs as he climbed. Harry was alone, wandless and hungry. After hours of resting in between

Mr. Richards left his early 1900s mansion - turned into an apartment building, for his daily evening walk. Tonight however, it was later than usual. His cane made a mediocre splash in one of the puddles from the rain, a couple of hours ago. Which was the reason for the lateness of this daily ritual. The shadow had been waiting for Mr. Richards this whole time. Never moving even when the rain soaked him down to his socks. At the sound of the splash his eyes lit up. Mr. Richards felt a slight tingle on the back of his neck, he knew what it meant, having spent years tracking people. They felt it too, everytime he was near but only a few ever acted on that instinct. His nose picked up on a slight smell of adrenaline fueled sweat on the damp night air. He did not want the shadow to know that he knew of his presence. So he kept his pace steady and his breathing even. He gripped his cane a bit tighter although the arthritis made it difficult. He was an old man now, but his senses were