A/N: I have been in the process of editing this story in order to make it flow better. I have combined a few chapters, added a few scenes, and may remove some or give a few of them a complete overhaul. I have only re-done the first few chapters and it may take a while to edit the entire story. In the meantime, go check out my newest piece of fiction entitled "Waiting For the World to Fall." The first two chapters are now posted in Buffy crossovers section and I plan on posting the third chapter some time this weekend.
A/N 2: Scenes are broken up with either times of day or locations.
Disclaimer: I claim no rights to Harry Potter and subsequent plots, locations, or characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Inc., and Bloomsbury Publishing.
Harry Potter and Year of Discoveries
Prologue:
Harry Potter tossed and turned on his bed at Number 4 Privet Drive. He struggled to wake up, but something held him with in the clutches of sleep. Kill the spare...Harry groaned, knowing what was to happen. A flash of green light, then...Cedric Diggory, on the ground, dead. High pitch laughter followed. Harry was sweating profusely now, trying to open his eyes, but it was no use. Just give in, Harry, Voldemort's voice crooned like poisoned honey in his ear. You cannot win. The Light will be extinguished. He finally jolted awake, the lightening bolt-shaped scar burning his forehead in agony.
Harry gasped for breath, clutching his scar. He couldn't be too loud, as it would wake his aunt and uncle, which wasn't really a good situation from Harry's viewpoint, anyhow. Once the pain had diminished, Harry rose from his bed, pacing the room. "Give in, eh?" he scoffed aloud to the empty room. "Not likely. He may think the Light is going to lose, but not without a fight." Harry shook his head, wondering what he should do. "Write a letter to Sirius, I suppose. He would want to know about it. Wish I knew what he was up to," the Boy Who Lived muttered to his owl, Hedwig. She hooted softly in response.
Harry sat at his rather small desk, taking out a quill and piece of parchment.
Dear Sirius,
Hey, it's Harry. Suppose you knew that though, since Hedwig is delivering this letter. I had another dream tonight. Pretty much the same one as all the others...you know, what happened at the Tri-Wizard tournament with Voldemort. But this one had a different ending. He told me I should just give in, that the Light was basically going to lose. Prophecy, d'you think or are my fears just coming out in my dreams?
Thought you would want to know. So, where are you anyway? It's been a while since I've heard anything from you, so let me know if everything is going ok. I may only be 14, but I'm not a total moron. And I do worry about you.
Hope I hear something from you soon. I'm going off my rocker here at the Dursley's.
Bye for now, Harry.
Harry quickly folded the parchment and tied it around Hedwig's leg. The owl followed him to the window as he went to open it. "Do be careful, won't you, Hedwig?" Harry stroked the bird fondly as she nipped slightly at his fingers. "I'll see you soon, then." With that, she took off, gliding gracefully through the night sky.
Harry sighed and turned from his window to face the clock. 3:45 AM. Harry paused, thinking momentarily. "Well, well," he chuckled to himself. "Perhaps I really am a git. It's my birthday and I completely forgot about it. Happy number fifteen," he told himself. "Wonder if Ron or Hermione are going to send anything."
In answer his musings, a small brown thing came hurtling into his room. By the looks of the sporadic flying patterns, it was definitely Pig, Ron's hyperactive owl. Harry reached out with his right hand and caught the owl as it flew past him. "Honestly, you act like you're more hyped up on sugar than your owner. Oh well, let's take a look at what you've brought." Harry untied the rather small package and a letter from Pig's leg. The owl sat there for a moment, before taking off through the window. "Oh fine," Harry muttered. "Now I can't send a note off to Ron."
Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Harry tore the letter open first.
Harry,
Hey, mate! Happy Birthday! Can you believe you're 15 already? Doesn't seem possible that we're starting our 5th year at Hogwarts, does it? I know the package is kind of small, but believe me, it's worth it. Hope you like it.
There's some bad news too. Ginny's gone missing. She disappeared out of the back yard about a week ago and there hasn't been a trace of her. Everyone here is running around mad, frantic with worry. Mum and Dad, along with most of the rest of us, seem to think You-Know-Who got her somehow. Percy says that it would be impossible for that to happen, as 'the rumors about You-Know-Who's return are simply that. Rumors.' I swear Fudge has him under the Imperius Curse. Just kidding, of course. But I'm really worried about Ginny. I hope they find her soon.
So, because all of this stuff with Gin, Dumbledore told me to tell you that you couldn't come and stay at the Burrow this summer. Says you're more protected with the Muggles. I don't really get why, but that's what he said. So, sorry about that. Hermione is coming to stay for the last week; it'll be safer for her here than with her parents. Weird, huh? It's safer for you to be with Muggles and safer for her to be away from them. I think we were planning on meeting up on August 20th to go to Diagon Alley, though, and get our school supplies. Let me know if we can come pick you up or if the Muggles will drop you off. Well, gotta run! Hope you like your present.
Ron
Harry sat on his bed, staring out the window pensively. Ginny's missing...Why does every person I've ever cared about have to be hurt in some way? I swear, everything I touch is cursed. He turned back from the window, looking at the package Ron had sent. He tore off the wrapping quickly, gasping in surprise as what ever it was seemed to grow larger. It was a shiny black case for his Firebolt. Along the side, engraved in gold was his name: Harry James Potter. Harry opened the case, gasping at what he found inside. Not only was the interior of the case lined with red velvet, it also contained letters from the rest of his friends, the Marauder's Map, an old broomstick and two rather used-looking wands. At the tail of the broomstick were the words Thunderbolt, James Harold Potter. Harry's eyes filled with tears as he traced his finger over the words.
He reached for the first letter, immediately recognizing Sirius' scratchy handwriting.
Harry,
Hope this finds you in good health. I know it's been a while since I've written...I'm sorry. Dumbledore has had Moony and I out on a few assignments. They're top secret, so I can't tell you anything. I will tell you though that this year will be a lot different from your previous years at Hogwarts. Especially for you. Enough of that, though! Happy Birthday! fifteen already…your parents would be so proud. Which brings me to the menagerie of stuff in the broomstick case. The wands belonged to your parents. I managed to fish them out of the wreckage the night of the attack and hide them at my house. I only just found them while I was cleaning and thought you might like them. The broomstick belonged to James, obviously. He gave it to me for safekeeping when we found out about Voldemort's plan to attack. Wanted to you to have it, just in case something happened. And of course, I had to return to Marauder's Map. Just be careful with it this year! Only use the Map in extreme emergencies, no sneaking out for some midnight rendezvous. Alright, I've got to go now. Moony and I are off on another mission. Do be careful, Harry. A lot of things are going to happen this year, and you're the central figure to everything.
I'll see you soon. Sirius.
Harry refolded the letter and placed in the case. I'm the central figure? What on earth did he mean by that? He shrugged and reached for an envelope with loopy green writing on the outside.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Mr. H Potter
The Upstairs Bedroom
Number 4 Privet Drive
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you will begin your fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of the supplies you will need for the coming year.
We would also like to congratulate you on being selected as one of the Prefects for Gryffindor. You will find your badge in the envelope as well.
We will see you when term begins, on September 1st.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.
Harry began to fold up the letter, but realized there was something else below McGonagall's signature. This looked like Dumbledore's handwriting, but he wasn't sure.
Mr. Potter,
First of all, congratulations on the honor of being chosen as a fifth year Prefect. I'm sure you and Miss Granger will treat the honor with decorum. Secondly, I believe birthday wishes are in order? I do hate to be the bearer of bad news on what should be a joyous occasion; however, I fear I must do so.
I'm certain you've read the letters from Mr. Weasley and Sirius, so I'll not tell you anything regarding their news. I realize Sirius was rather vague in his letter about the importance of you being especially careful this year. That was by my request, as I wanted to tell you myself. You are to begin extra magical training this year at Hogwarts so as to prepare you for the Magical War we are about to face. Professors McGonagall, Snape, Lupin and I will run these training sessions. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will be joining you in the training, as well as Miss Weasley, as soon as she is returned to us.
I understand that you may have some questions, yet I cannot reveal all in this letter as the walls have eyes and ears. Come to my office directly after the Sorting on September 1st, and all will be explained there. You have powers beyond your imagination, Mr. Potter and we hope to harness those powers and use them for the Light.
If anything happens, anything at all, I request that you would owl me as soon as possible. Thank you for your bravery and cooperation. See you on the 1st!
Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster.
Harry groaned in frustration. Everyone insisted on being incredibly cryptic with him. Powers beyond his imagination? At least Dumbledore had been a little more forthcoming with information. Harry scanned the letter again, his eyes resting on the name Lupin. Maybe he was coming back to teach DADA. That would be so cool! Harry thought, grinning at the possibility. Once again, he turned to the clock, checking the time. 4:52 AM. About three hours left until the Dursley's would make Harry get up and start his chores. Just enough time to sleep. Harry put everything aside and crawled back into bed, resting his head on the pillow. "I will not dream…I will not dream," he muttered to himself repeatedly. The Boy Who Lived closed his eyes and for the only time that summer, he did not dream.
Breakfast
"Boy!" Harry groaned as he heard Vernon Dursley's voice bellowing from downstairs. "Are you up? Time for breakfast!"
Slowly, Harry sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He reached for his glasses and slid them onto the bridge of his nose. Once again, Harry groaned, thinking about what possible chores the Dursley's might have for him that Saturday morning. "Coming!" He called back, his voice hoarse.
Harry shuffled down the stairs and to the kitchen table. He sat at his usual place, the expression on his face blank and rather disoriented. Harry was about to reach for a piece of bacon when Aunt Petunia slapped his hand away. "Not until Dudley gets his breakfast! Keep your ruddy hands off!"
Harry put his hand in his lap, eyes rolling. At this rate, I might as well skip breakfast. Little 'Duddykins' will eat every last piece...I've faced one of the most evil wizards of my time, and I still can't stand up to the Dursley's.
"Well, boy, what are you waiting for?!" Harry jerked to attention when he heard Uncle Vernon's gruff voice.
"S-sorry." He quickly reached to the plate of bacon and retrieved what was left of it. A slice and a half of bacon...well, that's rather generous of them.
"So I suppose you'll be asking us if you can go to that boy's house? What's his name? Weezer?" Vernon Dursley asked his nephew, eyeing the boy suspiciously.
Harry swallowed hastily before answering, "Um, no, actually. Professor Dum- the Headmaster at my school said I couldn't go this summer."
A mixture of expressions crossed Vernon's face. On the one hand, he could work the boy exceptionally hard this summer and make his life miserable. On the other hand, they would have to take him to get his school supplies and drive him to the train station. Either way, it was a no-win situation for the Dursley's.
"You get into too much trouble last year?" Dudley asked, snickering at his cousin. "I mean, why else would your stupid Headmaster not let you go to that boy's house?"
Harry rose from his chair in anger. "Do NOT," he said very forcefully, "ever insult Professor Dumbledore in front of me! He is the greatest Wizard who ever lived!"
At this, Vernon went absolutely rigid. His nephew had just used one of the forbidden words in the Dursley household. "You are never to speak to Dudley that way again, do you hear me boy?"
Harry nodded emphatically, not wanting to get into further trouble. "Yes sir. I'm sorry, Dudley. It won't happen again." Harry crossed his fingers, hoping the Dursley's wouldn't notice the lack of compassion in his apology. Harry would stand up for Albus Dumbledore, no matter what the cost.
Vernon and Petunia exchanged glances and nodded. "Very well, then. When you're finished with your breakfast, the garden needs to be weeded this afternoon. I want it done by dinner time."
Harry sat back down, quietly so as not to disturb the rest of the family. However, he did have one thing to ask. "Um, Uncle Vernon?"
"What?" Vernon snapped at the boy.
"Since I can't go to the Weasley's, would you be able to drive me to London so I can get my supplies?" Harry bit his lip, anticipating the answer.
Vernon grunted and replied, "If you do exactly as you're told over the next few weeks, then yes. I will drive you. But don't expect me to wait or go into that place with you."
"Of course not. Thank you. If it's alright, there's a place I can stay there for the remaining week before term starts back up again." Harry saw the hesitation on his Uncle's face and plunged ahead. "Besides," he added quickly, "you won't have to come back to pick me up, and I have some money to pay for it, so you don't need to concern yourself with that either. I'll be out of your hair one week earlier," Harry concluded hopefully.
"We'll see. Now, get to the garden!"
"Yes sir." Harry rose from his seat, taking his plate and napkin to the kitchen on his way to the back yard. He quickly rinsed his plate, placing it in the dishwasher. Before heading outside, Harry took a quick detour to the old cupboard under the stairs, searching for the old, worn out gardening gloves.
A few moments later, Harry settled himself in the Dursley's garden, and surveyed exactly how much work he had ahead of him. Groaning at what he saw, he quickly set to work. "Honestly...I swear I did this...a week...ago..." Harry grunted as he pulled on a rather stubborn weed. "If I didn't...know...better...I'd think they were...using magic to make these things grow faster...UNH!" He had finally gotten a good enough grip on the weed and pulled it out of the ground. This resulted in Harry being thrown backwards and landing on his bum. "Oh, that was graceful," he muttered to himself. "Good show, Harry."
"Do you talk to yourself often?"
Harry gasped as heard a voice coming from behind him. Turning around, he found a man and woman who looked to be in their late 30s, standing by the hedge separating the Dursley's yard from the neighbors. The woman was tall, about 5'7, her copper red hair had been shorn close to her head so that she resembled a pixie. She had piercing blue eyes that twinkled with laughter as she surveyed Harry sprawled on the garden floor. The man standing next to her was slightly taller, with messy dirty blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. The strangers both grinned at the boy sprawled out on the grass.
Harry grinned wryly and scrambled to get up. "Only when there isn't anyone else around. Hi," he greeted the strangers, brushing some stray hair out of his face and revealing the odd looking scar on his forehead. "My name is Harry Potter. Are you new to the neighborhood?"
The girl nodded as her brother spoke up. "Pleased to meet you, Harry Potter. My name is Jaron Peterson, and this is my wife, Elizabeth. Most people call her Liz, or Lizzy. We just moved in next door yesterday evening."
"Hmm. Wonder why I didn't see a moving van," Harry mused quietly.
"So, Harry, what does one do for fun around here?"
Harry shrugged indifferently. "Heck if I know. They," he jerked his finger towards Number 4 Privet drive, "rarely have fun. Or if they do, I never know about it. I'm not allowed to interact with actual people." Harry said this last part quite bitterly and instantly regretted it. Now Jaron and Liz would be asking questions. To his surprise, they merely accepted his answer.
"That's too bad. We've never been in this area of England before and we don't know anything about it." Liz said, smiling sadly at Harry.
Harry took notice of the mood change and decided to inquire about it. "Why so sad, Liz?"
"I used to have a sister. She never really liked me, especially after we went off to different schools. When I was in my last year at school, she got married to some great big oaf and moved to this area. I was just wondering if she was still here."
"What was her name?" Harry asked innocently.
Liz scuffed the toe of her show in the grass. "It doesn't matter. You probably wouldn't know her anyway."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Good point. The Dursley's never let me wander around the neighborhood. Such wonderful people, really." Harry muttered sarcastically.
Jaron looked at Harry sharply. "You really don't like them, do you?"
Harry replied curtly, "No. I really don't."
Jaron exchanged a glance with his wife before inquiring of Harry, "Any particular reason why?"
"I'm, shall we say, a bit," he splayed his hands before him as though searching for the proper term, "different from most folks. The Dursley's reject the unfamiliar and so they have rejected me ever since I was placed upon their doorstep." He laughed a dry, bitter laugh. "The thing that amazes me about them is that they took me in at all."
Harry looked up then, shocked by what he saw. Liz was sobbing so hard that she was shaking like a leaf. Jaron held her in his arms, whispering words of comfort to his wife. He spoke too softly for Harry to catch everything, but he did hear occasional words that made him frown in confusion. "Shh...Its okay...I know... I want to... he's not ready. Hush..." Jaron continued to rock Liz, gently stroking her long hair. He looked over at Harry, anguish in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he muttered over the top of her head. "She's rather sensitive, especially about family things. We really should be going now."
Harry nodded at once in agreement. "Of course. I'm terribly sorry. I never thought she would react like that."
"It's quite all right. Might we come out later and visit you?"
"As long as I get the weeding done by dinnertime, it shouldn't be a problem. Just don't let the Dursley's see you. They'll have my hide if we're caught."
Jaron nodded and led Liz towards the neighboring house. Harry watched them momentarily, concern clouding his green eyes. He turned back to the garden, hoping that some of those weeds had decided to uproot themselves. No such luck. However, he did find a brand new flower; a lily in full bloom. It wasn't so much that this flower had appeared out of nowhere, but the beauty of it which enraptured Harry. The flowers surrounding it were dull in comparison to the flower which stood in the garden, taller and more majestic than any of its mates. And Harry could swear he saw in glow.
He shrugged, setting his mind to the task at hand. He had to get the weeding done; otherwise Vernon would never take him to Diagon Alley or let him stay at the Leaky Cauldron. As he pulled out weed after weed, Harry found his thoughts turning to Jaron and Liz. What in the world were they talking about? Who wasn't ready yet? Were they talking about him? What on earth wouldn't he be ready for?
Deciding to forget about the mystery already surrounding his new neighbors, Harry added new vigor to his work. If he wanted to see Jaron and Liz again, he would have to make sure he did everything the Dursley's asked him so he could actually leave the house. Let the walking on eggshells begin…
Number 7 Privet Drive
Elizabeth Peterson stood at the window of Number 7 Privet Drive, staring worriedly at the house next door. She shuddered, thinking about all that Harry had told him of his life with the Dursleys. She wondered if they had done the right thing, leaving him there with them. Dumbledore had assured them that Harry would be safe. Safer than if he were to remain with his parents who had a price on their heads. She placed her head in her hands, remembering the night they had made their plans as though it were yesterday.
Lily laughed as she watched her husband chase her first born son around the living room on his very first broom. It had been a birthday gift from their good friend, Sirius, and they had been hard-pressed not to let the little tyke try it out. Peals of laughter echoed in the room as Harry would zoom past James, just far enough out of his reach that Daddy couldn't quite catch him. "He's a natural-born flyer, he is," James grinned as once more his son eluded capture.
"I can't imagine where he gets it from," Lily winked at her husband. "Certainly not from his mother." She stood up from the couch and calmly walked to the middle of the living room. "Come on then, Harry, time to get down."
"Unh huh. Hawwy fwying."
"I know you're flying, my darling boy, but it's time you got to bed. You can fly tomorrow."
"'Morrow?"
Lily nodded. "Course you can. Come to mommy, baby."
It looked for a moment as though their baby boy was going to start pouting and possibly throw a tantrum over the whole mess, but he eventually flew over to his mum's outstretched arms, although he was none too happy about it. Once he reached Lily, she plucked him off of the broom and balanced him expertly on her hip. "Come on, then. Which pajamas do you want to wear tonight? Your Gryffindor Lion ones or Quidditch?"
Harry considered her in that one-year old way of his for a moment before saying, quite decisively, "Widditch."
"Quidditch it is then. James, I'll be down in a moment."
"Can I have a kiss goodnight, son?"
Lily placed Harry down on the floor, coaxing him towards Daddy. "Go give Daddy a hug and a kiss, Harry." Harry toddled off on a run as fast as his little legs would carry him and jumped into James' outstretched arms.
"I love you, Harry. Night-night."
"Yuh you, dada."
Just then, a knock at the door caused Lily to jump in surprise. "Oh! James, who on earth could that be? You weren't expecting anyone, were you?"
James shook his head slowly. "No, I wasn't. One of us should probably go see who it is though."
"Oh, right." Lily strode to the door, pulling her wand out of a pocket in her robes. "Revelio." The door became just transparent enough that they could see Albus Dumbledore standing on their front doorstep, looking around while whistling quietly to himself. Lily pulled the door open, grinning widely at their unexpected guest. "Professor! How lovely of you to stop by!"
Dumbledore bestowed that benign smile of his on her has he entered the Potter's home. "Lily, James, as always it is a pleasure to see you. And how is our young Mister Potter this evening?"
Upon seeing who had come to visit them, Harry squirmed to get out of James' arms and ran to Dumbledore. "Gampa Al!" The Headmaster of Hogwarts bent down to pick up the lively toddler and began tickling him, his eyes twinkling merrily at the sound of the boy's laughter.
"What brings you here, Albus?" James asked after Harry's giggles had died down.
A look of sobriety that neither of the Potter's had ever seen passed over Dumbledore's face. "I have news. Might we sit down?"
Lily hesitated. "I was just about to put Harry to bed--"
But Harry shook his head emphatically. "NO! Gampa Al!"
James laughed and shook his head in amazement. "You have such a way with children, Grandpa Al. You want to stay down here, son?"
Harry nodded.
"But James, he needs to go to bed."
"Relax, Lily. He'll probably fall asleep down here while we talk. Albus?" James gestured to a nearby couch, indicating that their former Headmaster should take a seat. Once he had done so, the Potter's did the same, watching as Harry settled himself into Albus' lap, playing idly with his long, white beard.
Lily smiled in spite of herself and sat serenely on the armchair next to the couch. "You said you have news, Professor?"
"I have recently heard a prophecy regarding your son, here. It is quite likely that Voldemort will soon be aware of it and as such, Harry will be a target. As will the two of you."
James and Lily both spluttered, looking at each other and then at Harry in a blind panic. "A prophecy about Harry? What did it say?" Lily finally manage to ask, her throat now quite constricted. Why would anyone want to kill her precious baby?
"There are two parts to the prophecy. The first speaks of a child born as the seventh month dies who will know power the Dark Lord knows not. He will mark him as his equal, and one cannot live while the other survives." Albus paused at Lily's sharp intake of breath. "Yes, this means exactly what you think it does. The second part involves three other people other than Harry. It is a prophecy regarding something called the Four Warriors. The Lightning, The Seer, The Schemer, and The Star. They shall be the ones to lead us to victory."
"Which one is Harry?" James asked, looking at his son who had fallen asleep against Albus chest, snoring lightly.
"That I cannot be sure of as yet. But the second prophecy depends entirely on the first, for if Voldemort is able to kill Harry, then we truly have no hope."
"How can we stop him, then?"
"You have, I assume, heard of the link that exists among descendants of the Four Founders of Hogwarts?" When Lily and James both stared at him blankly, Albus nodded slowly. "Ah. When Hogwarts was formed, all of the Founders agreed upon a spell that would protect them from death at the hand of another Founder. In short, Ravenclaw would be unable to kill her colleagues and so on and so forth. This was ultimately to protect themselves from Slytherin who had begun to show his anti-Muggle tendencies."
"And this spell has carried through the generations?" Lily asked.
"It has. And as Tom Riddle is the Heir of Slytherin and Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor, Tom will be quite unable to actually kill Harry. He is, as of yet, unaware of this fact. He will also be unable to kill the two of you."
Lily looked at him blankly. "What do you mean? I'm not descended from any of the Founders."
"I assume you have not looked too deeply at your family ancestry? Let me enlighten you. You are not actually a Muggle-born, it is just that your mother was a Squib who is a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw. She married a Muggle who gave birth to an extraordinary witch and a regular Muggle girl."
"Why wasn't I in Ravenclaw then?"
"Just because you are her descendant doesn't mean you don't have all the qualities a Gryffindor should possess."
The sat in silence for a moment, the only sound between them that of Harry's soft snores. James looked out the window, feeling as though the world had changed in a split second. His boy, his innocent boy, was a target of the Dark Lord and the savior of the Wizarding world. What a mantle to be placed on such young and small shoulders. "What do we do, Albus?"
"I have begun to construct a plan…."
It had been a good plan, Elizabeth remembered. One with very few flaws, save the one that left Harry miserable and alone with her sister and husband.
