The Dark Lady and her twisted troubles

Chapter 11: A wisecrack

Hi, everyone, I think i just noticed how long its been since i last updated. I'm pretty annoyed with myself. Trust me :)

I've been writing another story up and will most likely post the chapter. I just realiazed that i can juggle writing both stories, ones a next gen and the other a hogwarts era. Major ego-boost.

But i've really got to manage my time better. Anyways, sorry guys. I promise i've been kicking myself around. And i'll be writing the next couple of days, posting a lot more often.

Comment, vote, and well, idk... ;)

---TheDarkLady

CHAPTER 11

Harry awoke the next morning and felt horrible, his stomach ached rather than his scar and he felt awfully queasy.

With a grimace he clutched his stomach and staggered out of the room silently as to allow Ron’s god-awfully loud snores to continue echoing through their room.

He gingerly stumbled down the stairwell to be greeted with the smell of bacon, eggs, pancakes, hash browns, waffles, French toast, omelets, English muffin, bagels, and other varieties of breakfast.

“Ah Harry, there you are, bit early though only Bill was up, just left and--- My you’re looking peaky. Come here.”

While she fussed over him he felt quite woozy and fell into the chair next to him.

“I don’t think you’ve fallen ill dear, maybe just something you ate.” She said and smiled reassuringly at him while she flicked her wand at the feast in front of him so the nauseating aroma wafted nowhere near Harry.

Feeling grateful he tried to smile but ended up wincing instead.

“Oh! Here nibble on this it’ll clear your head, something minty will help. Not feeling too sick I hope.” Said Mrs. Weasley worriedly and scampering around the kitchen to find something else to ease Harry.

“Not really. Thanks Mrs. Weasley.” He croaked and gave a small smile.

“Though I think it was that steak, that felt a bit funny, I think I passed it off as the Butterbeer though.” Harry croaked again and gnashed the mint through his mouth.

“Ah. Well, Fleur made that steak she did.” She said uneasily then bustled about the kitchen and presented him with some harmless chocolate chip pancakes with extra vanilla in it. Just the way he liked it.

He eagerly dived for the plate and mumbled excitedly: “Thanks Mrs. Weasley!”

He half closed his eyes and savored the magnificent taste. If only Aunt Petunia could cook like this, he thought with despair.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him adoringly and succeeded in flooding his plate with syrup and more pancakes and managed to force some pumpkin juice into his glass, attempt to smooth his hair and mutter under her breath how she wished Bill’s hair could be as short as Harry’s.

All the while Harry smiled and didn’t even bother protesting. This was the only time he ever got motherly affection, he would soak everything in…

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While the others had important things to do Ivory didn’t have much to accomplish. Her priority was that night and mingling to her was like breathing. She didn’t have anything to do until 8 O’clock that very night. Where all would meet The Dark Lady.

With a sigh she turned corners blindly until she found herself in front of a wall shimmering exquisitely in silver stretching all over the wall. It was the Malfoy Family Tree.