Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
By: Fred and George Weasley are MY Kings
Disclaimer: JKR owns it all
Chapter 1: The Awful Summer
Summary: Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts. With the order, prophecy, and Sirius's death all weighing on Harry's mind, he learns that there may be something or someone else who plays an important role in the second war... the half-blood prince. Now Harry and his friends are being thrown into a maze of battles and battered feelings of resentment and hate, on top of their own demanding lives as they continue looking for the Half-Blood Prince. But does the Prince really possess the powers to mend the broken wizarding world with Harry's help? Or will his powers be hidden under the shadows of hatred and arrogance? It's up to the Prince and Harry now to shine light, even in the darkest corners where only hate and resentment lie.
Author's Notes: It was announced that JKR has titled the sixth book "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" so henceforth this is MY prediction of what the sixth book will be like. Feedback in any way, shape, or form is greatly appreciated and wanted. A special thanks goes out to my beta readers, you know who you are,who spent a great deal of their time towards the action of endless revising.
Chapter 1: The Awful Summer
Harry Potter was sitting dumbfounded in a field of long grass, feeling the strong wind whip his hair into an even messier state. He felt lost; he had no idea where he was or why he was there. Then suddenly he began to bleed. His arms and legs were covered with the red liquid… It was everywhere, yet he felt no pain… He felt nothing, not panic or fear. He sat there in pool of his own blood, content. Then an earth-shattering scream sliced through the calm aura. The wind stopped and was replaced by a violently shining green light and Harry felt his body give a mighty jolt.
Harry awoke on his bedroom floor, his scar burning as he tried to get up. He remembered the dream and shook his head in wonder. He had been having the same dream for two weeks now, however, this was the first time he had actually fallen off his own bed. Normally he wokewitha tear-stained faceand in a cold sweat, but this time was different.
He'd been wondering a lot about this mysterious dream and had owled Dumbledore once and mentioned it, despte his anger at the old man. The Headmaster had immediately worried that Voldemort was still trying to penetrate Harry's mind and instructed him to practice the Occlumency that Snape had taught him the previous year. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind, the dream continued.
Aware that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, he grabbed his glasses from his nightstand, slipped them over the bridge of his nose, and looked at the clock. It was 4:00 AM on Sunday morning. As he began thinking back it was hard to believe that he had arrived at Privet Drive only three weeks earlier. It had seemed like so much longer. The days passed painfully; it was a living hell. Not a day went by when he didn't blame himself for Sirius's death …or when he didn't think about the prophecy he had to fulfill. 'I am already a murderer,' he thought silently as he sat pondering on the side of his bed, 'I might as well continue with it by killing Voldemort… But why me? Why can't I just be normal, like Ron or Neville or… just… someone else?'
He fell back onto his bed and let the few tears come. He felt utterly stupid crying. Here he was going on 16 years old and he was crying – but he felt there was really no other way to truly mourn Sirius's death, especially when it had beenhis fault. He also felt pitiful; he no longer wanted to be him, no longer wanted the responsibility of upholding the future of magic… But even more, what if he failed to save magic from the Dark Lord? What if he was the victim, the one who died, and left the rest of world under Voldemort's rule?
He shuddered at the very thought of it. Sick of thinking, he got up off of his bed. He needed an escape from his own mind for a while. He bent down, picked up the loose floorboard and fished around for his ink, quill, and a spare piece of parchment. He figured he might as well do homework as long as he was up. The Dursleys, who had been absolutely terrified by the recent threat of Mad Eye Moody, stayed clear of Harry and had allowed him use of his school books, wand, along with other miscellaneous items. Harry would've normally been thrilled, but at times like this it was hard to concentrate on anything but the past events of last year. Hehadsent and recieved some mail from Ron and Hermione, but couldn't help but be frustrated with their responses. Whereas he would make detailed accunts of his day and actions, they were both vague, yet full of warnings. Hermione urged him to be careful, and make sure the guard was fully running before he did anything, and Ron only repeated that Harrywould soon be joining them, although nobody knew when.
Harry was still required to send word to Mad-Eye Moody, which in itself became almost bothersome. He mostly only scribbled a bit, to show that he was still quite alive. Sometimes he told of what he did, or was doing, but the post were never any longer then three sentences. Harry pressumed that Moody was fine with this, and made no effort to lengthen the letters.
He soon retrieved the items and went to his pitiful excuse for a deskto set up his History of Magic lists ofquestions and the parchment. Professor Binns had required all of his students to write eight essays based on the questions that were supplied. All of the essays were to be completed with only the use ofone's personal knowledge.The list of the questions itself had about eighty different enchantments to ensure that the student did not cheat or somehow get answers from a different source. Harry detested the questions. Each was full of complicated wording and boring topics that captured no interestwith anyone…with the probable exception of Hermione.
He had finished problems number one and two already earlier on in the holidays, so he started number three and was slightly surprised as he saw the topic: 'A long lasting controversy throughout the history of our great wizarding world is that of the question of blood. In the early 1700s, Purebloods, or families that have had no interchange with non-magical blood throughout the entire family tree, were held to be slightly above the other existing non-pure blood magical families. What event in 1654 first started the differences in social rank due to purity in blood? Also include where half-bloods stood on the debate as well and the event's occurrences in immense detail.'
It was the first time in a while that he had heard the term "half-blood". Professor Binns must have guessed most students would have simply forgotten to include the half-bloods' position, so he merely included a reminder. Harry could easily name many pureblood families, and many muggle born families. However, he only knew a few people who were half-blood. Why was this? Were half-blood's less open about their originations? Harry's curiosity had flared, and after he answered the essay question, he set to find out just why the half-bloods were always left out of the picture.
But to everyone's surprise there was a half-blood, an important piece to the puzzle, whom everyone, including Harry, had overlooked. He was sleeping soundly in the muggle world, not knowing his destiny or Harry's. The half-blood boy was dreaming… he was sitting dumbfounded in a field of long grass, feeling the strong wind whip his hair…
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