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Travis Henry discusses life at Examiner.com and other current events.

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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by you

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Contributed by: Travis Henry on 7/3/2007

I was never going to read the Harry Potter books.

At the turn of this century, I was a serious journalist covering serious stories and didn't have any time for kids' books. My focus was on hard news stories and the works of my peers. My fiction fix consisted only of Heinlein.

Feel-good community news? Blah. Reading for pure joy? Blah.

My how times have changed. Kids and growing older can do that to you.

It was at the Daily Times-Call when I first was convinced Rowling was worth reading - late 2002 or early 2003 I believe. My managing editor Curt Anderson, who is now here at The Rocky, had read all of the books to that date and recommended them. Curt was a serious news man and had never steered me wrong in good reading material before. Besides, my daughter was getting to the age where she was enjoying reading.

I picked up the first book, read it on a beach in Mexico and never looked back. Reading the books together has been one of the best bonding moments I have had with my daughter.

Since then, I also found out that other things were important - like family and giving the community a voice. I am now the guy that counters the " serious journalists" who believe they know what's important to a community hundreds of miles away and believe they have a stranglehold on the First Amendment. And we wonder why newspapers are in trouble.

But I digress.

Last October, talented YourHub.com user Sandy Clifton had a great idea for YourHub.com users to create a story together. Users would leave paragraphs in the comments area and Sandy would piece them together. The process was a bit rough back then because users couldn't post multiple comments. Today, users can.

So here's the pitch. Leading up to the July 21 release date of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, let's write our own next chapter in the Harry Potter series. Leave your additions in the comment area below and I'll put them together to make something fun. If we get something good, we may publish it into our weekly print sections delivered with the Rocky Mountain News and The Denver Post.

SPOILER ALERT FOR HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE:

Here's where we left off:

Snape is the half-blood prince and has killed Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy is a death eater. Harry and Ginny are a couple. Ron and Hermione may be. Seven horcruxes, which are divisions of Voldemort's soul, must be destroyed to kill Voldemort. The future of Hogwarts is in doubt and Harry has returned to the Dursleys for the moment to rest and have some protection before he embarks on a mission to destroy the horcruxes.

I'll get us started (feel free to improve or expand on my beginning):

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows (by you)

The mood at Number 4 Privet Drive was particulary nasty this summer morning. Harry Potter was in a sullen mood once again as the news on the muggle television gave bizarre accounts of whole groups of people disappearing, entire villages on fire and strange snake-like shapes emerging from the smoke. Harry's Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed to blame the strange occurrences on their nephew, yet they were downright frightened to ask him what exactly he knew. Harry's cousin, Dudley, however, had seemed to take a new interest in his former perpetual punching bag and was showing slight signs of human decency when addressing Harry......

Harry suspected (and perhaps rightfully so) that Dudley's change of attitude toward him was the product of nearly-focusing on muggle newscasts while eating his usual cookies and sweets. Though Dudley was considered by everyone who knew him to be mostly dim, he did have some share of smarts. Best to be on Harry's side with all this madness, Dudley thought. (1)

Bonds of Magic

The village of Little Hangleton had been empty for a year now.

The mist there was so thick you could slice it with your arm and anybody passing through felt dread and coldness seeping through their chests worse than winter's chill, even with the car windows sealed tight.

Children who only ventured out of doors to do an errand for their mothers were found lifeless on the sidewalks. Men who sneaked out to run to the Hanged Man for a pint didn't even reach the pub doors. Women fell on their laundry baskets on the way to the clothesline. No one dared go near the village after the team of health investigators the government sent died as well. Besides, the government had problems enough without adding the burden of a mystery plague that emptied a village.

No one lived there now. The only building that appeared occupied was the old estate by the side of the hill, which was called the Riddle House.

Past the deserted streets, up the little road to the hill, the gates of the manor were still chained and locked. Though light flickered on the windows, the doors were closed, but there was a hole at the foot of the ancient door jamb, big enough for a large snake to slither in. But it was not a snake that presently came out of it.

The rat bounded out the hole and jumped straight into a weed-choked bush. There it sniffed at the air, its snout barely visible in the foliage and ground litter. And then, when a cloud obscured the moonlight, it jumped out again, this time never stopping, until it ran past the gates.

The wispy cloud passed the moon at that moment, and the rat was gone. There was only the mist, and the obscured sound of a scream. But it could only have been the wind.

* * *

The sound of an old car clanked its way past the grubby houses. It idled by the square for some moments before the engine was stopped. Out of nowhere, the driver's door opened to reveal an unruly little man, with unruly ginger hair and unruly clothes which looked more like rags. He hit his fists on what looked like thin air before other car doors appeared and opened, and out stepped a variety and number of people you wouldn't believe from such a tiny car, as revealed by its open doors.

First, there was a tall old lady, with a stuffed vulture on her hat, who immediately dusted herself and the plump boy who followed her out, muttering about "Muggle transport" and "ignoble old rascal", throwing dirty looks at the ginger-haired man. And then, there was a pair of sandy-haired people, who looked like they were mother and son. They were followed by two men, one black haired and the other blonde, who was wearing spectacles with psychedelic lenses. The man with the black hair was pulled gently by the sandy-haired woman. The blonde man bent inside the car and with grunts carried out a girl with hair of the same shade, who grumbled but didn't wake from her sleep. There was another girl, too. She had a long plait down the back of her head, and of the party, she looked the most miserable. The plump boy put a hand on her shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and took a deep breath.

"Are we going to stand here all night, you odious idiot?" hissed the last woman who got out of the car. She pushed the door closed as if she feared the tiniest click would rouse the whole neighborhood. The ginger-haired man scowled at her and began herding them forward.

"Read this, it's 'Arry's 'andwriting, he's our new you-know-what, seeing as our old one couldn't tell us the you-know-what anymore," he hissed to each of their ears. He sounded quite melancholy. "No need to look around, Mrs. Longbottom, this street is secured from end to end, just read the note."

"I've read it," Mrs. Longbottom snapped.

"Well, then let's get on, to the door."

Indeed, there was a door in front of them now, though they have been standing before nothing but the two joining walls of Number 11 and Number 13 not a second ago. The ginger-haired man pushed past and knocked. "Mundungus here, and company."

There were muffled rattles and snaps as bolts and locks were undone. And then the whole party was pulled through the open door so suddenly it was as if they were sucked in, or perhaps they were just that anxious to get in.

"Alright? You weren't tailed at all?

"Did you secure the car again?"

"Where're the rest of the Bones?"

The interrogation from the people who met the party was hushed when the girl with the braid burst into tears.

"The murderers made a change of plans. They went to the Bones first instead of the Longbottoms, so we were too late when we got there. Luckily, Susan was hid by her parents in their cellar," said Mundungus.

"Oh dear, we're so sorry, dear." Mrs Weasley immediately took Susan in her arms and led her away upstairs. "Neville, Seamus, Luna, follow me."

The blonde man with the psychedelic glasses made to follow.

"Can't you just wake her, Apollo?"

"Oh, no, Molly. She's just like Selene, hates to be woken up from sleep. And it's dreadful to be roused when dreaming, the grimliflies won't leave you in peace afterward."

Mrs Weasley nodded and smiled wanly. Behind them, while the adults were led to the sitting room, the questioning continued.

"What about the Grangers? You know they wanted to join us immediately after term ended, but their business-"

"I think its Remus and Tonks who went to their house with the twins and Ron. Kingsley went back to report to the other Aurors. Dedalus is a bit behind us-"

"Professor McGonagall, my son and Neville wants to join the Order."

"Oh, well, now that they're of age, there will be no stopping them, Mrs Finnigan." Professor McGonagall shook her head and handed around goblets of wine. "I'm just glad we had time to get you here. Augusta, you are not to worry now."

Augusta took off her hat and drank deeply from her goblet. She had been looking around askance at the sitting room's furniture and had been grimacing at the tapestry on one wall, but now she smiled.

"I am not worrying, Minerva. Not after Dumbledore died. You wait until Harry Potter gets his hands on that old tyrant. He will have a nasty reckoning."

Just then a little man squeaked into the room. "They're here, Dedalus and Hestia-"

"No need to announce us, Filius."

"Griselda! I knew I'd see you here."

"Yes, quite. I have Tiberius here with me, too. And goodness, you wait until I meet Hagrid's little brother. And Aberforth-where is he?"

Griselda spoke loudly; she and Augusta were too busy talking to notice the hushing pleas of nearly everyone else with them-

"Scum! Blood traitors! Get thee gone! I can't wait to see the death of you! Filth!"

The newcomers jumped at the screeching noise. But then it stopped. No less than twenty Stunning spells hit the picture from whence the shrieks came. The frame dropped to the floor with a thud.

* * *
Hermione drank some water, but it didn't dispel the churning of her stomach. It had been like this ever since she came back home, she couldn't believe it had only been a week. It felt like ages, the days and nights spent being on guard, her wand constantly within reach, her parents trying hard to act like nothing was the matter, though they didn't see patients anymore and just watched movies or read books with her in the living room.

Through the lace curtains of the windows, there was only the mist, heightening her anxiety and dread. Anything could come out of that thick fog; she couldn't decide which was worse: Dark creatures or Death Eaters. Nevertheless, she obeyed Order directions, and never stirred, even though she dreadfully ached to just take her parents to the safety of the headquarters herself.

She was being watched, not just by the enemies, but also by the Ministry, who could have well been against their side because of their unhelpful meddling.

Her brain froze from its usual drone and she jumped when she heard the noise. From the sofa, her parents jerked awake. The sound came again. Someone was throwing stones on one of their upstairs windows.

United by their unspoken agreement not to depart from each other's sights, the Grangers climbed the stairs together; Hermione's heart was beating like mad in her chest and she only realized she was almost stopping her father's circulation when he shook the arm she was holding. She smiled in apology and held her wand aloft.

Her bedroom door was closest to the landing, so she opened it first. At that moment, the little pebble hit her window again. Without turning on the light, she crept to the glass and peered through her bamboo blinds. Her mouth gaped in bewilderment.

Five boys stood below outside. One of them held a guitar.

Hermione threw caution to the wind and threw open the casements. She was livid for being scared stiff by a bunch of-" idiots" she hissed loudly. "What do you think you're doing? Who are you? Get off our property and stop throwing stones at my window!"

The one holding the guitar just grinned up at her and began playing. The others sang. They were off-key and loud. Hermione saw the neighbors' blinds and curtains being parted and twitched. She gritted her teeth.

"Are those boys serenading you, Hermione?" her mother asked, amusement in her voice.

Hermione stared down at the boys. She couldn't guess who they were, and then she noticed one of them had a bubblegum-pink-tinted fringe...

"Stop your racket, I'll let you in!"

They smiled. Two of the boys exchanged high-fives. The one holding the guitar was red in the ears.

Hermione ran downstairs and opened the doors.

"Wotcher, Hermione," said the boy with the fringe. "Sorry for the song, I remember it from an old record of my dad's. Are you ready to go then?"

They all went in and closed the door behind them. The two boys with black hair stepped up, plucked a pendant from their collars and showed it to Hermione. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' True Metamorph Medals-"

"A hundred and five disguises-"

"-each for twenty-four hours."

"Painstakingly made from a Metamorphmagus's blood and moods."

"Look, isn't Remus a looker?" Tonks cut in, grinning.

Professor Lupin, incredibly, was blushing at Tonks's remark. He shook hands with her parents and made introductions. He had brown hair and dimples.

Fred and George gave Hermione a medal, grinning. "We made Tonks wear her pink signature so that you wouldn't think to throw water on us."

Hermione laughed, still shaky with relief. "We're ready. I already have our trunks in my pocket, too." She smiled at the boy holding the guitar, her eyes twinkling at his blonde hair.

"Don't say a thing," he snapped. "These gits have been calling me Malfoy all day today."

Hermione laughed again and, not able to stop herself any longer, hugged him, ignoring the chuckles from the twins. "I was only going to say that I'm glad to see you, Ronald Weasley."

* * *
Tension at Number 4 Privet Drive was thicker than the mist annoying everyone that summer. It had been that way for a month, ever since Harry came home.

Mr Dursley was wearing his best suit, and was seated on his armchair reading the paper, or rather, snorting at the paper like a furious rhino about to charge.

Not far from him sat his son, also in his best suit. Dudley had just turned seventeen, but his party had been cancelled due to a letter. A letter Harry now held as he peered out through the window.

Aunt Petunia entered the room just then and placed a platter of crudités on the coffee table.

"I told you not to touch and to give me every letter that arrives in the mail!"

"Don't start, Harry. You said yourself there's nothing wrong with it." Aunt Petunia's voice shook. She sank on a chair and swallowed. She and Dudley wore identical white faces. Uncle Vernon and Harry were both red with fury.

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked down at the letter again. Yes, there was nothing wrong with it. But he was furious that even with the deaths and dubious calamities they saw on the news, Uncle Vernon was still adamant against Harry's warnings and precautions.

He had just checked the letter and envelope with every technique Moody had taught him. Lucky for his uncle who had opened it without preamble, it had no jinxes. Harry had observed his uncle keenly for a month as well. He behaved as normally as what was expected. Indignant and in denial.

"Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,

We regret to inform you that your son had been involved in a grave misconduct that could lead to his expulsion. He and several other boys had been caught beating up a fellow student, David Wesley, inside the school's gym equipment locker.

The severity of David Wesley's injuries is enclosed in a doctor's certificate.

I and my wife, Mrs Leonards, who witnessed your son's transgression, will visit you with Mr and Mrs Wesley, to discuss matters."

What followed was the signature of Mr Leonards and the school seal of Smeltings. If Harry wasn't so angry at his uncle and agitated about opening the door to strangers, he could have laughed. He looked at Dudley's face and couldn't help but feel a little pity. If Mr and Mrs Wesley were furious enough, he'd not only be expelled, but could be jailed as well. No more chances of winning more boxing championships.

He looked at the letter again. Mr Leonards had written he would arrive at four. It was now a quarter past.

Just as Harry had decided to get a glass of water from the kitchen to dislodge the lump of nerves in his throat, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," he hissed at the Dursleys.

With his hand on his wand, he opened the door.

"Good afternoon."

It must be Mr Leonards. He had graying hair and was wearing wire-rimmed glasses. Beside him must be Mr and Mrs Wesley, who were quite younger than his uncle and aunt. Mrs Wesley was with child. Bringing the rear was a tall woman wearing a pink pantsuit and hair to match. But it must have been a trick of the light, because when Harry looked again, the woman's hair was dark glossy brown.

Harry allowed them to cross the threshold, and then they froze there.

It was still two weeks before his seventeenth birthday, when he would be licensed to use magic anywhere, but Harry thought nothing of using the Petrifying Jinx on the newcomers. Expertly, he checked them all for hidden wands and ran the Secrecy Sensor over them. When he found nothing, he lifted the spell.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Dursley," repeated Mr Leonards, blinking a little. "This is Mr and Mrs Wesley and my wife, Nimfa."

"P-pleased to meet you. Welcome. In here, please." Aunt Petunia was clearly shaking in the knees, both from the magic and nerves about the meeting. Harry couldn't suppress grinning as he followed the guests to the sitting room and jerked to a stop as if he'd hit a wall.

Mr Leonards was wielding a wand and Harry ducked when a spell was sent his way. It hit the door and it sealed shut. The Dursleys lay senseless in their seats.

In a flash, 'Mr Leonards's wand joined Harry's. He pointed both at the four of them. He was about to shout a curse when-

"Nice reflexes, Harry. But relax; I only Muffliato-ed the door and windows. I also stunned your relatives because they don't need to hear what we'll say."

Mr Leonards was smiling now. Harry gaped at him.

"Professor Lupin?"

"Yes. And here's Nymphadora and Ron and Hermione."

"Wotcher, Harry!" said Mrs Leonards, her hair returning to its pink color.

Harry grinned while the pregnant Mrs Wesley hugged him. "You scared me. And you scared the Dursleys!"

"Oh, well, they have every right to be scared, we only took these disguises so we can get you. The real Leonardses and Wesleys are here in my briefcase. Just a sec."

Harry watched in amazement as Professor Lupin unlatched the case on the floor, to reveal a room like that one he had seen in Moody's trunk years ago.

"Mobilicorpus," Lupin muttered, and the four people were levitated up and out of the magically shrunk room. Harry helped Lupin and Ron prop the four people into sofas and chairs. "They'll wake up in a quarter of an hour. At the same time we revive your uncle and aunt and cousin, we'll Disapparate."

"Harry, my and Ron's clothes are in his pocket. You remember we said we'd be here, don't you?" Hermione said from Mrs Leonards's lips.

"How does it feel to be pregnant?"

Hermione laughed and slapped him on the arm. Ron's ears were red. He was uncharacteristically quiet. Harry grinned at him. Ron gave a forced smile.

Harry started to smile back, but then, Hermione's words made a clunk in his whirling brain. "What? You mean, you'll be staying?" We'll be lucky if the Dursleys-"

"That will be taken care of. In the meantime, we need the fifteen minutes for something important. Where are you going after the wedding, Harry?"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who both just looked back at him. Tonks was sampling the crudités, looking out the window nonchalantly.

"We're going to Godric's Hollow."

"I guessed as much," Lupin sighed.

"So, can you tell us where it is?"

"Godric's Hollow is a house in a little wood in the edge of a moor where, legend has it, Gryffindor himself lived and grew up. That's the only information I have that you can profit from. You won't reach Godric's Hollow through my directions."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione gasped.

"Don't do that! It's scary!" Ron said, looking at her anxiously.

Hermione stared at him, and then gave a small laugh. She was laughing a lot, Harry noticed. "You can't possibly think I'll give birth. I just-oh Harry!"

"Yes, why don't you tell him, Hermione?" Lupin smiled.

Hermione shook her head mournfully. "I only realized just now. Why didn't I think of it before? Harry, we need your parents' Secret Keeper to get to Godric's Hollow!"

Harry gaped at her. When her words sunk in, he cursed. How could he have forgotten?

"There's no need for such language!" Tonks said, dramatically adapting her disguise's manner.

Harry just snorted and stared moodily at the floor. Wormtail. He needed his parents' betrayer.

"Really, now, don't sulk. You can have it straight from the rat's mouth, you know."

He looked up at Tonks's words. And then his head snapped over to Professor Lupin, who was opening his briefcase again. But this time, he only opened its normal interior. And there, sitting quietly, was a rat. A rat with a toe missing in its front paw.

"Dad found him when he went to the Burrow last night. They only stopped me from killing him," Ron said.

So that was why Ron was morose.

Harry turned away. Lupin closed the suitcase.

No one spoke, but Harry began to hear a voice in his mind. A voice he'd been hearing a lot lately.

"The consequences of our actions are so complicated...You did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew's life..."

"Harry?"

Lupin's voice was taut. All of them looked relieved when he turned to them calmly. "What, you expected me to blast him to pieces? We have use for him, I'm glad Mr Weasley found him."

Lupin touched his shoulder. "Arthur found him because he returned to the Burrow, Harry."

"And what does that mean? He did the same thing years ago. That's his nature, scurrying away-"

He swallowed his next words when the others began to stir. Hermione quickly handed vials to Ron, Lupin and Tonks. It must have been a potion that undid the effects of the Polyjuice. They returned to their original forms as soon as they drank it.

"Oh, you have other visitors, Mr and Mrs Dursley," the real Leonards said, clearing his throat and smiling formally after gaping around his surroundings.

"Yes, good afternoon. We're friends of Harry's, their nephew," Professor Lupin said blandly, as if no nerve was twitching in Uncle Vernon's temple.

Aunt Petunia jumped up. "Please excuse us for a minute. Refresh yourselves." she waved a shaking hand over the crudités and tumblers of iced lemonade on the coffee table.

They went to the kitchen. It was over in less than five minutes. It just took Lupin's explaining performing the Memory Charm on Mr and Mrs Leonards, Mr and Mrs Wesley, their son, and the rest of the hospital staff. Hermione would have Aunt Marge's room. Ron would have the recently bought airbed, in Harry's room. No longer crimson and snorting, Uncle Vernon almost graciously motioned Lupin and Tonks back to the living room. Lupin smiled, giving the briefcase to Harry, who took it, concentrating hard on Dumbledore's voice.

He couldn't remember the exact words, but Harry could hear him, saying a bond is created, when one wizard saves another wizard's life. (2)

________________________________________________________
Authors:
(1) Tabitha Dial
(2) Joanna Paula Cailas from the Philippines sent this in. She noted " it's the rainy season now in the Philippines, so my wireless broadband's signal is going wonky."
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Submitted By: Kevin Villegas

posted on 7/3/2007 @ 5:32:11 PM

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I had no idea you were a Heinlein fan. We must explore this topic further.

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Submitted By: Tabitha Dial

posted on 7/3/2007 @ 3:40:47 PM

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Harry suspected (and perhaps rightfully so) that Dudley's change of attitude toward him was the product of nearly-focusing on muggle newscats while eating his usual cookies and sweets. Though Dudley was considered by everyone he knew him to be mostly dim, he did have some share of smarts. Best to be on Harry's side with all this madness, Dudley thought.

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Travis Henry

Travis Henry has posted 80 blog entries and 177 comments since joining on 9/14/2005. Travis Henry's average blog rating is 4.72.

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