harry potter, rise from dust

chapter 17

hmmm..... still don't own hp or this book. nothing changed in the last half a minute

Chapter 17.

It was a complete and utter silent. Little by little, he regained his consciousness and the first thing came to him was total darkness. He was lying on some surface, something flat, just flat. He had a sense of touch, therefore the thing in which his body lay on really existed. As soon as that part of him came to his senses, he wondered if he could see since he could feel. In accordance to it, he worked his way to opening his eyes. His sight was all blurry at first and he had to flutter his eyes rapidly to regulate his vision.

He glanced from right to left, realizing the position he was in as he lay face down. Unhurriedly, he sat upright, feeling his body tense at every movement even if he appeared to be unscathed. Looking around, he was in some sort of place where there was only white from one end to another. He put a great effort into remembering why he was here. But, he cringed as a fierce assault stabbed his brain. It would seem his memories were all jumbled up since he couldn't recall who he was. It would take a while for him to recuperate his memories.

For the first time ever, he discerned his attire. The long sleeved v-neck shirt - he was wearing - and the trousers enveloped the lower region of his body. Both of them were pure white, the texture of the material was so smooth and silk. His feet were bared, however. He winced, placing his hands on his head at the sharp interference. After a while, he looked up, now recovering every bit of his memories. What he still didn't understand was how he arrived to this, all around white area. He shouldn't have been here. He tried to revoke back his last memory but was rebuffed. Now, he was perplexed. Was this one of the old man's practical jokes? He shook his head. This was too big, even for the old man.

Standing up, he was astonished to see a very large number of people lining up and walking expressionlessly in the same direction. He noted their clothes were very similar to his. Not knowing what to do, he approached one of them, a woman, and attempted to attain any information from her regarding to where he was. But, he was disregarded as if he didn't exist at all. The woman just looked oddly at him and brushed past him. Now, he was more confounded than ever. Gazing up ahead, he didn't know where these people were heading but he participated, nonetheless.

After what it seems like, seconds, minutes and even hours to him, he could identify there was a one-lane bridge up ahead that led to another place. It was the most unusual bridge he ever saw. The bridge was so thin. Anyone who traveled to the other side would fall in just a few steps. It was thinner than any strings. He didn't think it would be feasible for anyone to walk on it. Lost in his own little world, he bumped into someone's back. Rubbing his red sore nose, he mumbled an apology but paused as the person in front of him just ignored him, continued muttering anxiously to himself, something about the sins he perpetrated and whatever it was.

Clearing his tangle of thoughts, he was on his toes, trying to make out why they stopped all of a sudden.

His eyes went huge as there was a tall figure at the very front of the crowds, halting them all from using the bridge. The figure's appearance didn't seem unusual or terrifying. It was a human with large sculpture wings on its back, dressed in very strange white clothes. It appeared not to be frightening but the presence it radiated was compelling him with the desire to be far away from the figure. Whoever or whatever it was, it was not one to mess with. The crowd he's in, entered another long line, most likely waiting for the tall figure to call them one by one.

He waited patiently and he naturally thought it would take a very long time for his turn, considering it was such a long line. It would take days or months even. Before he knew it, he was already in front of the tall figure. "Name?" its voice boomed.