This round was about genres. Mine was 'Supernatural'. I had to delete about 500 words, so whoever wants to read the original version of this, please read the second chapter. As for the judge reading and rating this: Please read this chapter :)

Prompts:

6. (word) fantastical

7. (spell) Reducio

9. (word) history

Enjoy reading :D

The Three Hundred Year Old Stone

Wandering through the forbidden forest at night was something not everyone would do solely for entertainment purposes. He could see dark shadows, some bigger than others, creep in between the trees, could hear the rustling of the dry leaves as his feet pushed them away or crushed them on the dry forest ground. But Jamie Ronald Potter had a very curious mind and so it led to him wandering through said forest at night, with the moon above, leading him the way.

Gazing up at the tree tops, he noticed that he had wandered far deeper into the forest than he had ever before. His dark eyebrows drew together. He knew he should turn around and continue his trip another night. It was getting late and he didn't know this part of the forest as well as the rest of it.

He cursed loudly as he stumbled over a root sticking out of the earth. This part of the forest was wilder than the parts near the castle. Bushes and branches kept being in the way, causing him to stumble or fall.

He turned around and peaked at his foot. A particularly stubborn root had twisted itself around his ankle, gripping it tighter the more he struggled to get free.

He cursed loudly. He had heard of those plants. They had studied them in both History of Magic, as well as Herbology. It was said that these plants had been bred for a Triwizard Tournament that had taken place at Hogwarts hundreds of years ago, yet nobody had been so unfortunate as to actually encounter one of them.

"Reducto," he said, pointing his wand at a particularly annoying and slightly painful and certainly powerful plant that did its best to cut off the blood circulation of his foot. Satisfied, he watched the piece of offensive greenery blow up.

Picking himself off the floor, he brushed the dirt off his school uniform and set off again, deeper into the forest. After what felt like hours, he spotted a clearing a little distance away from him. The moon was illuminating the forest ground, able to get through the tree tops and onto the ground.

It looked eerie.

A loud rustling of dead leaves caught his attention. Knowing what creatures lived in the forest, he whirled around at just the right moment. An enormous spider sped up towards him, ready to kill. With a yelp, Jamie fumbled for his wand, reprimanding himself for not keeping it in his hand, ready to attack as one should be wandering the forest, and screamed the first spell that came to his mind. "Reducio!"

The spider shrank to the size of a plumb. Jamie laughed weakly and eyed the small spider again. It stood right next to his left foot, obviously confused as to why everything looked so different than just a few seconds ago. Just that spider had been a witness of his not so manly squeal. He huffed. It wouldn't tell anyone.

His eyes narrowed as the clearing got into his field of sight again, the miniature spider completely forgotten.

His curiosity getting the better of him, he set out to the clearing on front of him, when his foot hit something hard but small. He looked to the ground and frowned as he saw a black little stone roll away from its former spot and right into a pile of dead leaves. His knees hit the ground before he could actively make the decision to drop to the dirty forest floor. His hands started to pull and push leaves aside, looking for the dark stone. Something told him it wasn't just any stone and thus he sighed in relief as his fingers hit something solid in between the dry natural material.

The stone was small and boring looking. It was black, which was curious, and somewhat shaped like a jewel. Time and weather had had its toll on the stone's surface.

Jamie turned it over in his hand and studied it carefully. Edges and little lines could be seen on its surface, under all the dirt of probably a couple of hundreds of years.

Carefully, he rubbed the stone against his cloak, trying to get some of the grime off.

The material the stone was made out of was no normal stone that could be found everywhere you went. It was of a deep black, so dark, it looked as if it swallowed all light around it. Turning it slowly in his hand, he could see fine lines engraved in the surface. Something pointy, like a triangle, maybe. A circle inside that triangle completed the picture with a neat cut right through its centre. It looked like it had broken once and someone had tried to glue it together again.

Jamie pushed his glasses further up his nose as he continued to inspect the peculiar stone. He was sure it had once been part of a piece of jewellery. Little markings of metal holder defined the sides of the stone. But the symbol on the front was indeed strange, even for a piece of jewellery. He would have understood if vines had been engraved into the stone or maybe even flowers or decorated letters of complicated looking names, but no geometrical symbols.

He turned it a third time to look at the engravings from a different angle, as he suddenly heard soft footsteps walking towards him, getting louder.

His head jerked up, panicked that it might be another Acrumantula. He froze. It wasn't an Acrumantula staring at him. It wasn't even a magical creature. It was a human.

He gulped as his green eyes looked into identically green eyes - the eyes of his great-great-grandfather.

*~*HP*~*

Harry blinked.

He had just been sitting at the coffee table at his parents' house, having tea with his family when suddenly and with a none too pleasant jerk he had been ripped away.

He seemed to be standing in a forest. How peculiar.

He frowned as he eyed the trees, their height, their strength... It all seemed so familiar, but why?

His eyes travelled over the trunks of the trees, over bushes and ferns, as he spotted an all too familiar clearing. He sighed as a shudder ran through him. He would never forget this spot of the forbidden forest, as he reckoned. He would never forget that night and the fear, the pounding of his heart as he heard the words he had both welcomed and feared.

He raised his hand to his eyes and rubbed. That couldn't be happening. Why was he here? Why was he back in this forest? His fingers ran through his hair, gripped at the roots and pulled none too gently.

An unsettling feeling made itself known in the pit of his stomach. This felt wrong. It felt so wrong to be back. His very being bridled at being in this world. His blood felt as if it stilled in his veins. His muscles felt stiff, his bones were aching.

He jerked his head to the right and pulled at his hair. He had never felt that way before and the fact that he did not know why he was back or why he felt that way was unnerving.

He blinked rapidly. He had to think! He had to keep his calm and analyze his situation. If Hermione would have been by his side, she would have already started to try to solve this riddle.

He shook his head. A nervous feeling trickled under his skin and he scratched his head and neck again.

He was in the forbidden forest for whatever reason, it was night and he was not feeling well. Was he some kind of ghost, damned to roam the earth forever? No, that couldn't be the case. He had died a little over two hundred years ago and he had been in the afterlife! He had made his choice to not stay behind as a ghost and everyone that had died knew that this was a conscious choice. There was no way that he was a real ghost, then. But why was he back at the place of his nightmares?

Soft rustling ripped him out of his panicked reveries. Frowning, Harry turned around and his eyes found a huddled figure on the ground just a few metres away from him.

Taking a hesitant step forward, he forced his heavy legs go move. The figure jumped and jerked their head up and towards him.

It was a boy, maybe sixteen years old, wearing what looked like a slightly different looking Hogwarts school uniform. Harry narrowed his eyes as he took in the image before him. The boy had dark, messy hair, slim features and eyes that he only knew too well. He gasped as bright green eyes stared into his.

*~*HP*~*

He had seen pictures of him, seen hundreds of years old memories and learned everything about the war hero, the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Conquered, the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He had heard hundreds of stories about his ancestor, whose fame was so great even now that it had bathed him in it as well. People knew him because of who his ancestor was.

But hearing or reading about the famous Harry James Potter was something entirely different than seeing him standing right in front of him, staring at him with his mouth open.

Jamie tried to swallow, but his mouth was far too dry. He opened his mouth to say something - anything - but he couldn't think of anything of slight intelligence. He couldn't remember the amount of times he had wished to meet him. He had planned for this fantastical moment, although he had been sure it would never come. But now, seeing him right there in front of him, he didn't know what to say. All of the questions he had wanted to ask his ancestor, all of the things he had wanted to tell him - gone. His brain was completely empty.

"Who are you?"

Jamie nearly fainted.

The voice was there! He could hear him! He could see him talking. He could feel the immense power that radiated off of him... It was mind-blowing. So he just sat there, staring at a slightly uncomfortable looking Harry Potter and could do nothing more. His lips moved as he tried to answer the question, but his brain couldn't function well enough to actually bring his mouth to form the sentence.

Harry Potter raised an amused eyebrow and blinked down at him. "Well?"

"I- I..."

Jamie turned beet red. What must the great Harry Potter think of him? It was obvious that they were related. He had to see it as well. Oh Merlin, this is so embarrassing!

"Why don't you take a deep breath and tell me who you are?" He said in a kind voice as Jamie was too busy feeling ashamed to properly reply to his question.

A shaky laugh and a deep breath later, Jamie managed to connect his brain to his vocal chords long enough to formulate a somewhat decent answer.

"I- I'm Jamie P-Potter, Sir."

Harry winced as he heard the nervousness in the boy's voice.

"Please call me Harry," he said as he slowly sat down next to the nervous Gryffindor, as he spotted with a sudden wave of pride. "I feel old whenever people call me 'Sir'."

"Yes, Sir. I-I mean," he hastily added as Harry raised a dark eyebrow at him, "Harry."

The Chosen One smiled and nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the fidgeting boy next to him. He bit back a chuckle. "So, I guess we're related then." He grinned and made a vague hand gesture towards Jamie who started smiling as well.

"You are my great-great-grandfather. Mum and Dad have told me so much about you! Before my grandma died, she and my uncle used to tell me stories about the war and what it was like back then."

Harry nodded slowly, a reminiscent smile on his features. "Emily and Marc?"

Jamie gasped and his eyes widened as Harry started laughing softly. "Yeah, those two always have been really interested in the war. Used to bug me about it every time they came for a visit."

Jamie couldn't do more than stare in awe at the young man beside him, who looked not much older than him. "This is so weird." He would have kicked himself in the arse for that stunt, but, surprisingly, Harry started laughing loudly.

"Right you are, Jamie! There I was, having tea with my family when I got ripped away and into this very forest that I only remember too well." His smile faltered as his eyes travelled over to the clearing in the distance. "How have you managed to summon me anyway?" With a tinge of curiosity in his soft voice, the dead man turned around and focused his unnerving bright green stare at identical eyes, which lightened up almost immediately.

"I found this stone and just looked at it and then there you were." He held the stone that he was still holding onto out for inspection and saw a glimmer of recognition in Harry's eyes.

"I didn't think I'd ever see that stone ever again," he muttered more to himself as he leaned forward and inspected the stone carefully. "You turned it three times, didn't you?"

"I-," Jamie frowned as he looked down at the black jewel-like rock in his hand and back towards Harry, who was studying him with a look of interest. "Yeah, I think I did. Why? What does this stone do?"

Harry's smile turned sad as his eyes searched for something in Jamie's. "This is not just any stone," he said in a low voice, gesturing towards the piece of black rock in the boy's hand. "What you're holding is called The Resurrection Stone. I have used and dropped it right here, just moments before I went onto that clearing." He pointed at the eerie clearing in front of them, a haunted expression darkening his features.

"What is a resurrection stone?" Jamie asked, frowning slightly.

"The Resurrection Stone is one of the three Deathly Hallows." He narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied his descendant closely. Jamie's eyes lightened up and he turned his gaze back towards the stone with new fascination. "I guess you have heard of those."

"I have," his voice was a mere whisper as he turned his big eyes back to his sad looking grandfather. "Does that mean I can talk to you whenever I like? Does that mean I can talk to Grandma and Grandpa and my sister Amy?"

Slowly, Harry shook his head and watched as Jamie slumped back. "What this stone does is not natural," Harry said, trying to make the boy understand. "It does not bring people back from the dead. There is no such spell or object that can do that."

"But you're here, aren't you? You are dead and yet you are here, talking to me."

Harry sighed and tried to think of a way to explain it. "Have you heard of the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

Confused, Jamie nodded.

"The three brothers were the first ones to call the Deathly Hallows their own - Ignotus, Antioch and Cadmus Peverell. Cadmus was the one owning the stone - this stone. And do you know what happened to him after using the stone too often?"

Jamie nodded slowly and turned his gaze back to the infamous object in his hand.

"You see, it may give you the illusion that you have brought someone you love back to life, but that isn't the case. I have used it in that night as well, to give me strength for what I had to do back then."

The boy's head snapped up as he stared at his ancestor.

"I know what it feels like, seeing the people you love and miss the most return to life. But dwelling on things like that is not good for you! For that reason I dropped the stone all those years ago and never went back looking for it."

"But being dead..."

"A wise man once told me 'Don't pity the dead. Pity the living.' I think I now know what he meant." Harry smiled and put his hand over Jamie's shoulder, keeping a small space between his hand and the boy's shoulder. He was sure the young Gryffindor felt it nevertheless.

"But I have so much I want to ask you!" He exclaimed, getting desperate.

"And you will have the opportunity to do so, just not now. Your time will come, young Jamie, but it will take numerous years until we will see each other on the other side."

Jamie blinked rapidly as he felt moisture gather in his eyes. Harry smiled.

"Let go, Jamie. We will see each other again. I promise."

*~*HP*~*

It didn't feel right to let go of the stone that promised so much. It didn't feel right to not explore its possibilities, to not use it to summon all his loved ones, to see them once again. To say goodbye.

But watching his great-great-grandfather before him, he knew he was right. He had dropped the stone for a reason and whatever reason that had been, he somehow knew he had made the right choice in letting it being forgotten.

So, gathering his courage and trying to swallow down the pain, he shot Harry Potter one last look. The messy haired wizard smiled at him and nodded, pride shining in his eyes. This was the right thing to do. He would see him again in the future and until then he had the memories.

So, with a deep, sad sigh, he opened his hand and let the stone drop into the dead leaves on the forest's ground.

The last thing he saw was Harry Potter's proud smile, promising hope, before he vanished into nothingness.

I had a blast writing it!

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think! I love reading and answering them!

See ya!

Word count: 3000