Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin
An original fanfiction by badspeler

- CHAPTER ONE -
Gurgling and Giggling

-H-

"But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning
In all my dreams, before my helpless sigh
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning."

Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owens

-H-

It was nearly midnight. Banks of thick grey fog drifted in from the sea, shrouding the well-concealed dockland. Slowly they settled and fanned out in all directions, and before long, houses streets and open spaces were wrapped in a moist veil that caught at one's throat.

At the time of this story, only the poorest of the poor still lived in this part of the city. It was known for its collection of petty thieves and small-time crooks, and thus, generally better if you didn't know what was going on around you. You wouldn't want to know. Therefore, one night, when a sharp wail was heard from the sea, people just turn their heads and upped their tv volumes. Better not to hear.

But miles away, a jet-black hair boy with a burning red lightning scar knew. He knew what had just happened. He knew it was something bad. But he couldn't stop the maniacal laughter from rising through him, and he roared in a way that wasn't him at all.

It was only the next morning when the Dursleys found Harry Potter curled up on the floor, shivering and grinning uncontrollably.

-H-

"How do you use this effing thing," snarled Uncle Vernon as he fingered the quill, "Damn freaks can't even invent something you can write with. Got their heads in the clouds, I tell ya. DAMN IT!" The quill had snapped under his iron vice grip, and he flung it to the side in frustration.

"Vernon, not in front of the boy…" Aunt Petunia looked disapprovingly at her husband's use of language.

Uncle Vernon turned to look at Dudley, the only boy who could cause everything in their house to have depressions the size of his enormous behind and at the same time cause everything from the television to the game console to be spoilt beyond repair. He chuckled. "My sonny probably knows more words than I do, eh?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Dudley grinned mischievously.

A giggle from behind them reminded the family of their problem. Aunt Petunia glared daggers at Harry, who was now frothing at the mouth and shaking violently, causing the cheap bed to rattle.

"Oh move over Vernon. Men…" she sighed heavily, taking another quill and easily began writing.

"Crikey mom, how d'you do that?" Dudley eyes widened in childish fascination. His mother turned crimson.

"I used to practice with…my sister's…and erm…erm…And there, all done!"

They stood on tiptoes and read the letter over her shoulders.

"Dear Dumbledore,

We woke up this morning to find Harry laughing maniacally and shivering uncontrollably. His lightning scar is terribly hot, and appears to be burning. He is scaring our poor son out of his wits. Please do take him away to whatever hospital people of your kind use. We knew that the magic would get to his head sooner or later. Please do not reply via owl as we do not want to be seen mixing with your kind. We are expecting someone from your ministry to come to attend to the boy.

The Dursleys"

"Excellent work Petunia," Uncle Petunia began tying it to an extremely reluctant Hedwig, "That should get them worked up. I expect that the mental hospital people will be here anytime soon, and they'll clean up this mess." He waved his hand dismissively over Harry.

Harry gurgled in response.

-H-

Far, far, away, Hedwig was perched on Dumbledore's shoulder, reading the Dursleys' letter together with the wise old sage. Dumbledore sighed. Harry was in trouble again. Ever since Harry had lost Sirius…

Harry Potter was a wizard. And an extraordinary one at that. Alas, ever since he lost his godfather, he had not kept in touch with them. He refused to reply to his best friends', Hermione Granger's and Ron Weasley's, letters, and turned down any request to meet up with any of them. He had made it a point to snub all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, a Voldemort resistance force Dumbledore himself had organized. It was because of the Order of the Phoenix that Harry believed he had to rescue Sirius, and in so doing, he had caused Sirius's death, or so he believed.

And now, he was in trouble and needed help. Dumbledore proceeded to send out three letters, one addressed to Molly Weasley, the second to Remus Lupin, and the third to Hermione Granger and her parents. 'The healing must begin,' he thought to himself, 'and it begins now'.

-H-

Harry Potter awoke feeling as though he had been running, his limbs exhausted and breathing hard. The scar on his forehead was seering in pain, and voice was hoarse as he tried to make sense of where he was.

He was vaguely aware that there were people in the room. He could feel someone crying over his chest, and there was a tall redhead standing behind.

He sat up, one hand pushing himself up, the other reaching out for this glasses. The bushy haired Hermione jerked off Harry, and stared at him in amazement. "HARRY! Oh Harry, you've alive, you're alive, you're alive…!" she screamed, and pounced on him once again, knocking the wind out of him. "We thought you were dead!" she wailed. "And you're alive, you're alive, you're alive…"

Ron Weasley wasn't far behind. "I'll go get Mum," he said, his voice shaking, as he leapt with joy to find his mother.

Harry was dazed, but managed to put one hand around Hermione's shoulders. "Yes, I'm alive…" he muttered weakly. "Oh Harry…" she cried again, hugging him tighter.

"HARRY!" Molly Weasley and Ron burst through the door. "YOU'RE ALIVE…"

"So I've heard Mrs. Weasley…" he managed a lopsided grin as Hermione climbed off him awkwardly. He hadn't realized how comfortable it had been just now, but as he sat up once more, he could feel the warmth flow out of him, and it made him feel like hugging Hermione again. He shook himself.

"What happened?" He was clearly in the Burrow, but how had he gotten all the way him from Privet Drive?

"Well, the Dursleys found you in a bad state one day, so they wrote a nasty letter to Dumbledore asking him to take you away. Using owl post, would you believe it. The things they would resort to just to get you away…"

"Go on, go on…" urged Harry.

"Dumbledore got your letter," it was Ron's turn to tell the story, "and he sent a letter to Mum, asking her to go fetch you as he was busy on Order business and another to Lupin to escort her."

"I also got one," added Hermione. "It invited me to come over to see how you were doing. "Of course I took the chance. We've all been so worried, what with you not answering our owls and ignoring everyone." Harry believed her, he could see her eyes all red and puffy, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"But how did I get like this?" he asked.

"Well Harry, we were kinda hoping you could answer that question. Did you get another vision again? You-know-who up to something?"

Harry tried to recall. Nothing. "I don't know, I really can't remember anything…"

"Oh Harry, its ok. I'm sure it'll come to you in due time. Right now, the most important thing is to recover. The OWL results will be coming soon, I expect, and we'll have to go prepare for school too." Hermione paused to tick items off her mental checklist.

"Yes Harry, Hermione's right. You really should rest. I'll go tell the news to the others; the Order will want to hear about this. Go back to sleep, Harry." The three of them left the room, and Harry collapsed back onto the bed, thoroughly tired out despite sleeping for days.

-H-