The Winding Road of Shadows
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,334
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,334
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
No profit is being made from this, and all characters used belong to their rightful owners. I DO NOT own Harry Potter!
The Winding Road of Shadows
Hey!! Here's a run down of what will probably happen at some point in this fic!
WARNINGS: This fic WILL be Snarry slash, but there IS explicit HET as well. The HET is Harry/Ginny (EWW!) and it will ONLY be in the first chappy so never fear!! There also may/may not be mention of Harry/OMC inside this fic somewhere. Just warning you!!
There will be a fair amount of travelling in this fic, and I will try to keep things as accurate as possible. Some places might be changed to suit the purpose of this fic, so I apologise in advance if this offends anyone... it shouldn't though, I don't think. And if I get the description of Melbourne wrong, then damn, I really don't know the city I've lived in these past two years!!
Sooo... if you don't mind any of that, please, do have a read and let me know your thoughts!! Thanks!
* The Winding Road of Shadows *
Prologue
The scenery was beautiful, but Harry had not the time to appreciate it. He was in an ancient land, surrounded by relics and remnants of the distant past, a holy place of continuous worship, but he could do nothing but rush past it all.
Harry was on the other side of the world, but this was not a trip of leisure; he was being pursued, with rapid ease and startling accuracy, and time seemed to be dwindling. His pursuer seemed to anticipate his every move, getting closer and closer and seemingly more dangerous than ever.
How had things escalated to this? Harry wondered. He had no idea who or what was after him, or why, though he had many speculations. It was possible that remaining supporters of Voldemort had sent someone to assassinate him, or it was certainly possible he had another enemy out there; but if this was personal, if the person pursuing him was indeed their own boss, then what would their motives be? Harry hadn’t wanted to find out, and certainly hadn’t let this stranger get close enough.
Harry stifled a cry as he tripped on an uneven stone and sprawled to the ground, his already tattered trousers gaining yet another tear. He pulled himself back up, ignoring the pain in his knees and palms, and started off again, feeling his way blindly along the cool stone. Somewhere above him Harry vaguely heard the cries of monkeys, as if they’d been disturbed, and Harry knew they had. He was making a lot of noise, too much noise, but it was impossible at this point not to- there was no time for spells and, as he’d learned earlier, they only stalled his pursuer for so long.
Ahead, Harry could see a vague light, and knew he’d headed in the right direction. Where there was light there was civilisation, and he was relatively safe out in the open. Running harder he leaped down the stone stairs and into the open, his ankles protesting painfully, but he continued regardless.
He was close, he knew, so close… and then, too suddenly, the meagre light source ahead was extinguished, and Harry let out an anguished cry.
“No!”
He ran in the direction of the light, knowing that despite the darkness that people had to be there. They were always there, so why not now?
The thick black of night was stifling, and it wasn’t because of the humid heat of the climate in this part of the world. It covered everything, was everywhere, and it felt like Harry was alone within it, alone with his pursuer. Not even the moon illuminated the sky on this black night, though if it had of, Harry might’ve seen its reflection on the water he was about to plunge 30 feet in to.
Running, scared and injured, it took but a mere moment for him to step off the invisible, unguarded edge of the ancient bridge.
The second cry that rang out into the night came not from Harry’s mouth, but rather it surged angrily from that of his pursuer who was about to miss his chance of revenge if Harry was allowed to continue his plunge.
It was that second cry, piercingly loud and clear, that jogged Harry’s memory as he fell- a voice he knew, and loathed, a voice he’d hoped never to hear again.
A voice he knew to be dead.
~~
WARNINGS: This fic WILL be Snarry slash, but there IS explicit HET as well. The HET is Harry/Ginny (EWW!) and it will ONLY be in the first chappy so never fear!! There also may/may not be mention of Harry/OMC inside this fic somewhere. Just warning you!!
There will be a fair amount of travelling in this fic, and I will try to keep things as accurate as possible. Some places might be changed to suit the purpose of this fic, so I apologise in advance if this offends anyone... it shouldn't though, I don't think. And if I get the description of Melbourne wrong, then damn, I really don't know the city I've lived in these past two years!!
Sooo... if you don't mind any of that, please, do have a read and let me know your thoughts!! Thanks!
The scenery was beautiful, but Harry had not the time to appreciate it. He was in an ancient land, surrounded by relics and remnants of the distant past, a holy place of continuous worship, but he could do nothing but rush past it all.
Harry was on the other side of the world, but this was not a trip of leisure; he was being pursued, with rapid ease and startling accuracy, and time seemed to be dwindling. His pursuer seemed to anticipate his every move, getting closer and closer and seemingly more dangerous than ever.
How had things escalated to this? Harry wondered. He had no idea who or what was after him, or why, though he had many speculations. It was possible that remaining supporters of Voldemort had sent someone to assassinate him, or it was certainly possible he had another enemy out there; but if this was personal, if the person pursuing him was indeed their own boss, then what would their motives be? Harry hadn’t wanted to find out, and certainly hadn’t let this stranger get close enough.
Harry stifled a cry as he tripped on an uneven stone and sprawled to the ground, his already tattered trousers gaining yet another tear. He pulled himself back up, ignoring the pain in his knees and palms, and started off again, feeling his way blindly along the cool stone. Somewhere above him Harry vaguely heard the cries of monkeys, as if they’d been disturbed, and Harry knew they had. He was making a lot of noise, too much noise, but it was impossible at this point not to- there was no time for spells and, as he’d learned earlier, they only stalled his pursuer for so long.
Ahead, Harry could see a vague light, and knew he’d headed in the right direction. Where there was light there was civilisation, and he was relatively safe out in the open. Running harder he leaped down the stone stairs and into the open, his ankles protesting painfully, but he continued regardless.
He was close, he knew, so close… and then, too suddenly, the meagre light source ahead was extinguished, and Harry let out an anguished cry.
“No!”
He ran in the direction of the light, knowing that despite the darkness that people had to be there. They were always there, so why not now?
The thick black of night was stifling, and it wasn’t because of the humid heat of the climate in this part of the world. It covered everything, was everywhere, and it felt like Harry was alone within it, alone with his pursuer. Not even the moon illuminated the sky on this black night, though if it had of, Harry might’ve seen its reflection on the water he was about to plunge 30 feet in to.
Running, scared and injured, it took but a mere moment for him to step off the invisible, unguarded edge of the ancient bridge.
The second cry that rang out into the night came not from Harry’s mouth, but rather it surged angrily from that of his pursuer who was about to miss his chance of revenge if Harry was allowed to continue his plunge.
It was that second cry, piercingly loud and clear, that jogged Harry’s memory as he fell- a voice he knew, and loathed, a voice he’d hoped never to hear again.
A voice he knew to be dead.
~~