Harry's head felt heavy as he woke up. His brain was foggy with confusion as he slowly struggled with his weak limbs. He turned on the bed and tried to stand his weak legs collapsing underneath him. He hit the floor hard and Harry bit his lip in pain. He panted heavily from the effort of trying to move and moaned softly in pain. He gripped the metal leg of the bed and tried to pull himself up from the cold floor. Footsteps echoed from the doorway and Harry tried harder to pull himself onto the bed if only to avoid the embarrassment of being found sitting on the floor in exhaustion. The footsteps came closer and Harry braced himself for a hounding. Surprisingly the footsteps stopped and Harry could hear two people talking. Harry rubbed his scar in confusion. He had been certain that only one pair of footsteps had entered but there were to voices nearby.
"I was certain he would be in here," one voice said.
Harry leaned against the bed trying to focus on the voice, through the haze in his mind. It sounded like Professor Quirrel, but without the stutter.
"Find him," the other voice said angrily, "I will not allow a child to stop me from ruling the world"
"What should I do when I find the brat?" Quirrel asked this other voice.
"Kill him!" The other voice hissed angrily.
A sharp pain went through Harry's head and Harry bit his hand hard to prevent himself from whimpering and being caught.
"Yes, M'Lord," Quirrel said, exiting the room.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief of not being caught. He had to tell Professor Sprout about this immediately. He looked around where he was sitting on the floor and sighed. How would he get down there?
YOU ARE READING
The Boy Who Wanted to Live
FanfictionBOOK TWO ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Proffesor Snape turned and stared at Harry, one eyebrow raised. "Mr. Potter! Are you paying attention?" "Y-Yes, Proffesor." "Tell me what would you get if I asked you to add powdered root of Asphodel to an infusio...
