Harry Potter
and the
Silver Bullet Faction
Chapter One
Deja-Vu
The Old castle outside of Hogsmeade had been deserted for quite some time. Only a few miles away from the small town, and twice further from Hogwarts. Still, it seemed as if everyone was afraid to approach it. It didn't seem, well... important... no. It was not the castle, the rickety old shutters on it, or the wind howling in the windows. No, it was the history.
Only two score years ago, there had been a huge and loud party thrown by the two kind owners of the palace. But the next day when nobody had returned home from the party, the castle was searched. What the man saw made his blood run cold and the hair on the back of his neck stand straight on end.
Matt Boeing, the current head of the police of the closest town besides Hogsmeade, had come to the mansion to question the owners on the whereabouts of the people who had attended the party. However, when the door was not answered, he took the liberty of going in himself.
An eerie silence seemed to envelope the castle as he stepped silently through the halls. All seemed normal (aside from the fact that the place was deserted) until he turned into the ballroom.
He was horrified, lost for words. He had seen bodies, people who had been shot or stabbed or strangled, but never anything like this.
Almost a hundred people were roped by their hands to the ceiling. The floor was spattered with a thick, dark liquid. He bent down to take a closer look.
"Blood." He murmured as he slowly turned pale.
"Uhhh..." There was a moan that echoed through the room. He looked up and saw that a few of the people were stirring.
"Don't move! I'll get some help!" He called, and began to run out, amazed that some were still alive.
About a half-hour later, however, when the doctors arrived, there were no bodies on the ceiling. Nor was there any blood on the floor. All there was, was an acrid odor and a chip of a very pointy tooth on the floor.
* * *
The incident had made huge headlines, however, what was most suspicious was the tooth. Someone had probably fallen and cracked it, but the odd thing was that top scientists of the day had not been able to tell what the tooth was from. It certainly wasn't human.
And even more odd was the headline the next day. It said that the two scientists studying the tooth, as well as the tooth, had been found missing.
And a question arose from the population in unison, What is going on here?!?
To this day, the mansion was still deserted. But everybody was still afraid that the killer was still there, waiting. How did he manage to destroy or subdue everyone in that hall? And how did he manage to rope them all up thirty feet in the air to the ceiling? Only two men had the answer.
One's name was Albus Dumbledore. The other...
To this day, the mansion was still deserted. However, the night is a different story.
"Yes, yes, this is perfect." A high, cold voice cackled through the halls of the great, dank castle.
"Well, your plans are interesting indeed. I think that the school is plenty enough for all of us. All that fresh, young blood. Yes, indeed."
"I know that not even Dumbledore could stop you, and your friends. And soon, I will not only take over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but... the world. And your only enemy shall be the sun."
"Yes. But we must proceed quickly, sir. For our thirst grows stronger each day."
"I understand. The new school year will start in a few weeks. Until then, nothing can be done."
"Very well." The second man smiled, his canine teeth abnormally large. He took a small needle out of his pocket and pricked his finger. Then the first man pulled out a roll of parchment, on which the second man promptly signed his name with the small amount of blood.
"And now that the deal has been made, I shall exit. Come, Wormtail."
"Y...yes, sir." The man named Wormtail squeaked. They both stood and muttered a few words, and seemed to vanish into thin air.
"Minions! The deal is sealed! Soon, we shall feast well!" The first man, who was tall, pale, and bearded, called out to over a hundred hooded figures. There were loud hisses from the crowd. "First we shall overturn Hogwarts and place in the hands of Master Voldemort, then we shall rule the night, and no one, the day! All we must do is follow his instructions. Does anyone have a problem with that?"
"I do." A voice called out from the crowd, which immediately parted. Another hooded figure stepped forward. The others removed their hoods, baring their long teeth and giving it nasty looks, their faces pale in the dim light. Most people would be confused, but the lone figure knew what they were.
Vampires.
"Which one are you?" The bearded man asked with mild interest.
"What business is it of yours? I'll be honest, I'm not one of yours."
"You're not?" The man bellowed in shock. "Minions!"
Before any one of the odd people could move in on the lone figure, he reached under his robes and revealed two semi-automatic pistols. Gunfire rang throughout the hall as bullets pierced bodies, which, not a moment later, dissolved into piles of smoking liquid. But the hooded figure was not the only one attacking. Several people in the back had began firing, also. And when they ran out of bullets, they each drew out long, silver swords, or wands from under their robes. The head vampire, who had spoken to his Minions, had already vanished.
Several of the others, still "alive", had rushed forward to attack. However, the hooded knights were as skilled with their swords and wands as their pistols. Soon, the room was filled with the smoking liquid, and four men pulled off their robes to reveal shiny chain mail, each with a logo painted upon it with the words, THE SILVER BULLET FACTION.
"Where is he? Where is the leader?"
"He disapparated. We can't track him."
"And just who the bloody hell is this Voldemort?"
The other men gasped.
"You said You-Know-Who's name?"
"What, Vol-"
"SHHH!" They all rasped in unison.
"It's a long story. But I'll tell you now, don't say that name. It scares people out of their wits. Mind you, I nearly wet meself when I heard it was You-Know-Who making the deal."
"What? Well, I don't really care as long as he's not a vampire. And we
killed most of them."
"That's not the point. We've failed the mission. Without killing the head vampire, we're sure he'll have new followers within a week."
"What?" The first man choked.
"That's right."
"But... but you guys are wizards! Isn't there like... a spell or something you can use to..."
"Only if they haven't drunk from the cup."
"The... the cup?"
"Sir?"
The senior stepped forward. "Known as the Cursed Cup or The Goblet of the Damned. It is a cup filled with a blood, but of what, no one but a vampire knows. One sip and you can not be reversed."
"Oh man, that's not good."
"No. It's not. Right now, while the schools are out, top potion masters and dark arts fighters of the world are working on a cure. It's not looking too good."
"Who's working on it?"
"Well, you wouldn't know them. There's Phyllida Spore, Arsenius Jigger, Quentin Trimble, Remus Lupin, Gilderoy Lockhart was on the list for the convention until they found out he was a fraud a few years back, Of course Dumbledore is overseeing the operation, as well as the Ministry, oh, and I've forgotten... oh yeah, professor Severus Snape."
"Snape, wasn't he a death eater?" One of the wizards remarked.
"He used to be. Now, We're splitting up. I'd like to find some proof for the ministry."
"What do we need to prove to them?"
"Everything, my friend. Everything."
* * *
Harry Potter awoke with a jolt. His scar was burning just as bad as ever. He'd just had the most shocking dream. It had ended somewhere around Voldemort. And there were a lot of odd looking figures in cloaks. Dementors? Was Voldemort finally in Azkaban?
No, he remembered. He disapperated. And the figures were too short. And then he remembered something else. Gunfire... something about a cup, and Snape...
It was fading all too quickly. He shook it out of his mind and walked over to his window, when Hedwig fluttered in, munching on a remarkably large insect.
"Morning." Harry yawned, as Hedwig finished up her breakfast. "What's this?" He pulled a letter of her leg. She gave a soft hoot and glided over to her cage. Harry opened the letter.
Harry,
I attached my next letter back to Hedwig because I don't want anyone becoming suspicious of the odd birds I've been sending you. I've kept in touch with Lupin, who has told me about the convention he is attending. There has been a lot of odd Vampire activity recently, especially within a large radius of Hogsmeade. I just want to tell you to be especially careful this year. Vampires are nothing to laugh at. They're about as bad as Dementors. So I'm warning you, don't go breaking the rules for any reason this year. Also, please tell me if you've heard anything about this. This is very important, so don't be afraid to tell me anything, got it?
Keep in touch,
Sirius
This brought the dream back to Harry. Those figures were vampires. He didn't want to sound paranoid, but he remembered what happened last year, and this is how it started out. Dream. Scar burning. And he couldn't help but feel it was his fault that Cedric died. Maybe if he had said something, none of it would have happened...
"I'll tell him. I've got to, don't I, Hedwig?" The snowy owl hooted softly. Harry got out a piece of parchment, and began to write.
Dear Sirius,
I don't want to sound paranoid, but after what happened last year, I feel I should tell you. I had another dream. There was Voldemort, and he'd been talking with this pale man. The man signed a paper with this red stuff, I think he cut his finger. Then Voldemort and Pettigrew Disapperated. There were also a lot of hooded figures, but then there was some gunfire, and several of them, well, melted. And then the four attackers talked about that convention, Lupin, Snape, a few of the authors of my schoolbooks, and something called the Goblet of the Damned or something. And Voldemort and the pale man had mentioned Hogwarts. I woke up, and my scar was really hurting. I know it sounds a bit paranoid and even stupid, but after what happened last year, I'm not so sure about anything anymore. Take care.
~ Harry
Yes, that would do. He just hoped he wouldn't get Sirius all worked up like last time. Even though last time, it turned out his dream was real...
He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and watched as she glided off into the dim morning.
Thump! Thump! Someone knocked on his door.
"Yes?"
"You up yet, boy?" Uncle Vernon barked by way of morning greeting. Of course. Harry had forgotten that they needed to make a trip up to London, to the special tailor. Dudley's diet had been going well in a sense, well, in the sense that he at least hadn't gained any weight over the past year. But he hadn't lost a whole lot, either. Mrs. Weasley, the mother of Harry's best friend, Ron, had sent Harry a load of meat pies and a large cake, which had lasted him the whole summer. He couldn't wait until school. Unlike most normal kids, well, Harry was not normal. In the sense that he was a wizard. He had found out so on his eleventh birthday when he was visited by the schools gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid.
His birthday... unlike most kids , Harry rarely looked forward to his birthday, which was never really celebrated by the Dursleys, anyway. But if he was correct, today was Saturday, so his birthday was in three days.
"Well, are you up? Wake up!" Uncle Vernon boomed.
"Oh, oh yes." Harry replied, and began to get dressed. He was putting on his left sneaker as he hopped one-footed down the stairs and was greeted by the smell of...
Health food. Aunt Petunia was fixing an all grain breakfast and had put out four settings with skim milk.
"I'm getting so sick of this." Uncle Vernon groaned at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't believe I haven't starved to death yet."
"Ah, breakfast! Looks excellent!" Harry said loudly and smugly. Uncle Vernon groaned, but didn't dare say anything. The Dursley's were terrified of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, hearing that he was a convicted murderer. Harry hadn't mentioned that Sirius was actually innocent. They constantly worried that Harry would tell Sirius they were treating him bad, and he would come after them and turn them into dung beetles or something. In the past few years, the tides had really turned against the Dursleys, and they had decided that they had better stop treating him so harshly. This, however, had been made up for in school, as Snape had gone from nasty to nightmare, and Malfoy was more irritating than dog droppings on the soles of your shoes (and worth about as much, as far as Harry was concerned).
He finished his breakfast as fast as he could, so he could go upstairs to have some real food before they left. When he got up there, however, he stopped silent. There was a large barn owl perched on his windowsill. It dropped a letter from its beak, turned, and flew off. Harry picked up the letter and recognized it instantly, sporting a purple wax seal with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and snake all surrounding an H.
That's funny, he thought, usually Hedwig brought his letter. Then again, It came rather early, and was a little thicker than usual. He opened it up, and pulled out several papers. One from professor McGonagall, welcoming him to the school, a list of books, and another paper, which Harry glanced at quickly. But then he did a double take. All future Hogsmeade visits will be canceled until further notice due to odd and dangerous vampire activity.
This was just great. This really made his day. He sat down, pulled up a floorboard, and quickly downed half of a meat pie. He had just finished up when something knocked him flat on his back. At first he thought he had somehow survived a shot to the head from a stray hunters bullet or something, but then he saw Pigwidgeon zip around his head, and drop a letter twice as big as him into Harry's lap. He ripped it open.
Dear Harry,
We're going up to Diagon Alley today, and wondered if you wanted to meet us up there. Sorry it's on such short notice, but we just got our Hogwarts letters early, and mum wants to take us up there a.s.a.p. Oh, and we have a little something to show you. Take it easy.
~Ron
P.S. Did you hear? We can't go to Hogsmeade this year. Man, this really stinks.
Harry took out a piece of paper and scratched down a reply, and tied it to Pigwidgeon, who promptly sped off.
"Hurry up, boy!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed from downstairs.
"I wish he'd call me by my real name." Harry muttered, and hurried down the steps, out the door, and into the Dursley's car. As they were driving down the highway to London, Harry spoke up.
"Er- Uncle Vernon?"
"What?" He replied sharply.
"My, uh, friends are meeting up today in London, and, well, we're going shopping for my school things," Uncle Vernon flinched. "And, well..."
"Wait a second." Uncle Vernon cut him off. "What do you mean, we?"
"I was about to ask if we could meet up and I could get my things with them..."
"I'm not lending you any money." Uncle Vernon growled darkly.
"I don't need any."
"Then how will you afford it? Go around begging? Actually, how have you been able to pay for it at all these years?" Dudley chuckled at this.
"Uh, well, wizards don't, er, have money..."
"Oh come off it, I wouldn't believe a lie like that."
"Well, you know I'm famous wherever I go. The shop owners always..."
"All right, I don't need to hear any more ruddy lies! Just find your ruddy friends and go. We'll meet up at the Taylor shop where we're going."
"All right." Harry sat back. There was something suspiciously cheery in Uncle Vernon's voice, though.
When they reached London, Harry hopped out of the back seat and started to hurry off. London was a big place, but he didn't have much trouble finding his way to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Harry!" He heard someone call as he entered. He looked over at the bar and saw the Weasleys and Hermione standing to greet him.
"Come here, dear, sit down and have a drink with us." Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly.
"Thank you very much, but I'm short. I haven't gone to Gringotts yet."
"Oh, don't worry dear, it's on us." Mrs. Weasley pulled out her purse.
"No, mum, it's on us. We owe Harry." Fred pulled a silver sickle out of his pocket. "What would you like, we owe you something."
"Er, well, how about a butterbeer?"
"Coming right up!" Tom the innkeeper flashed his toothless grin and handed Harry a tall, frothing mug.
"Owe me for what?" Harry asked.
"You'll see." George smiled. Soon, they all finished their drinks and headed down Diagon Alley. Straight down to Gringotts. Harry and the Weasleys showed one of the goblins their keys, and were soon rattling down the old track to their vaults. Harry's was first, and he went in, and stuffed his bag full of galleons and sickles and knuts, embarrassed at how his vault was so full compared to the Weasleys. He got in the cart and they began to ride down to the next vault. But when Mrs. Weasley opened the vault, Harry could hardly believe his eyes.
The vault was piled to the ceiling with galleons and sickles. A heap of knuts bigger than an elephant was resting in the corner. It was even more full than his vault. But he wasn't in the least bit jealous.
"This, Harry, we owe you for." Fred laughed.
"What? H-h-how?" Harry asked.
"The thousand Galleons prize money! We invested it in a joke shop and made a mint! Incredible! Well, we owe you at least a thousand, so..."
"No, no." Harry smiled. "That's fine. I'm really happy for you. This is great!"
"Oh, Harry, dear, thank you so much!" Mrs. Weasley called back to them as she filled her money bag.
"No... no problem." He said, in a sense dazed. They went out to get their books from the shops, including The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five, An Anatomy of Common Magical Creatures, and How To Defend Yourself From Basic Hexes. They also stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Harry bought a special detachable drag reducer for his broom. He didn't really think he'd need to outstrip a jet, until he saw something that made him choke. Up on the windowsill was a brand new broom model.
THE CONCORDE ULTIMATE
Is the newest model in a line of special top-brand world class racing brooms. It has been designed to achieve a top speed of 230 MPH and is equipped with a magical speed controller at top speed levels of 100, 150, or 230 MPH. Able to accelerate from 0 to 200 in 1.255 seconds, surpassing all other current broom models. It is also equipped with a special flight control system that makes it incredibly easy to handle at top speed. Among its other features it includes an unbreakable braking charm, a no-drag grip, and an earth-warping unit to slow drops and dangerous descents.
Price upon request.
Harry gazed at the broom. It had a front with a magic no-drag grip, and the tail seemed to have a golden glow to it. He turned around to show Ron and stopped cold, both surprised and amused.
Mrs. Weasley was putting down a pile of money as the man behind the counter boxed and handed three of the magnificent brooms to Fred, George, and Ron.
"There you go. Have a nice day." The man opened up a large register.
"Wow..." Harry gazed at the three. "Ron, why do you have one?"
"Oh, didn't you hear? I've been approved to be Gryffindor's new keeper. Isn't it great? Maybe by my seventh year, I'll be captain, like I saw in that mirror our first year!" Harry was also surprised Ron remembered the mirror of erised.
"Do you want one also, Harry?" George reached into his pocket.
"No thanks." Harry said, stunned that he would just haul off and buy something so remarkably expensive.
"Oh, all right."
"I tell you what, though," Harry felt that the Firebolt meant too much to him. "I'll bet you I can leave Ron here in the dust on his first time." He smiled.
"What makes you say that?" Ron asked.
"I have a little experience, while you have a brand new broom. And Wood told me I have the perfect build for a seeker. Mind you, I said first time only."
"I know. Hey, Harry, that reminds me. Wood gives his regards. He works for the Ministry's Recreation Division. He came by our house and tested my abilities. Didn't miss a single one, and then he wrote a letter suggesting me to Dumbledore. I wouldn't be surprised if Gryffindor is named one of the worlds most potential amateur teams by The Daily Profit this year! And Malfoy's father will never buy the team new brooms, since he only did it to get him on it. Hey, Harry, imagine the look on his face when he sees this!"
Harry imagined it. It would be so funny he couldn't not expect it.
"Time to go!" Mrs. Weasley walked back up to them. They all walked out into the street and back out of the leaky cauldron. When they got to the tailor shop to drop off Harry, however, there were no cars there. Harry hurried inside to the tailors desk.
"Excuse me, sir, did a family just leave here? A couple dragging a funny looking hot air balloon?" Harry couldn't resist the joke, since the Dursleys couldn't hear.
"Oh, yeah. But they left a half hour ago, when they were finished. I take it you don't get along well with your brother. You don't look much like him."
"He's my cousin, actually."
"Wait, is your name Harry?"
"Yes." Harry replied. "How did you know?"
"They left a note. Here." The man handed him a piece of paper. Harry read it.
He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe the Dursleys would stoop so low. The note told him to stay with "that dumpy red haired woman" and that "he should stay with his own kind."
"Is there a problem, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley walked up to him. "Is your family here?"
"No. I can't believe they left."
"Well, if you have permission, we would be delighted to have you over again this summer."
"Yeah. Yeah, they... they pretty much gave me permission."
"Oh, terrific! Let's go. What's that in your hand? A note they left you?"
"Yeah. A very rude one, if you ask me." He tossed it in the trash. "Sorry I'm so grumpy... you know muggles... oops..." He glanced at the tailor.
"Hey, kid, 's all right." He pulled a wand out of his desk drawer. "Those muggles are really nasty, you know? I made sure they'll be back in a month for my services again. Catch my drift?" He waved the wand around and put it back.
And Harry laughed all the way back to the Weasleys.
and the
Silver Bullet Faction
Chapter One
Deja-Vu
The Old castle outside of Hogsmeade had been deserted for quite some time. Only a few miles away from the small town, and twice further from Hogwarts. Still, it seemed as if everyone was afraid to approach it. It didn't seem, well... important... no. It was not the castle, the rickety old shutters on it, or the wind howling in the windows. No, it was the history.
Only two score years ago, there had been a huge and loud party thrown by the two kind owners of the palace. But the next day when nobody had returned home from the party, the castle was searched. What the man saw made his blood run cold and the hair on the back of his neck stand straight on end.
Matt Boeing, the current head of the police of the closest town besides Hogsmeade, had come to the mansion to question the owners on the whereabouts of the people who had attended the party. However, when the door was not answered, he took the liberty of going in himself.
An eerie silence seemed to envelope the castle as he stepped silently through the halls. All seemed normal (aside from the fact that the place was deserted) until he turned into the ballroom.
He was horrified, lost for words. He had seen bodies, people who had been shot or stabbed or strangled, but never anything like this.
Almost a hundred people were roped by their hands to the ceiling. The floor was spattered with a thick, dark liquid. He bent down to take a closer look.
"Blood." He murmured as he slowly turned pale.
"Uhhh..." There was a moan that echoed through the room. He looked up and saw that a few of the people were stirring.
"Don't move! I'll get some help!" He called, and began to run out, amazed that some were still alive.
About a half-hour later, however, when the doctors arrived, there were no bodies on the ceiling. Nor was there any blood on the floor. All there was, was an acrid odor and a chip of a very pointy tooth on the floor.
* * *
The incident had made huge headlines, however, what was most suspicious was the tooth. Someone had probably fallen and cracked it, but the odd thing was that top scientists of the day had not been able to tell what the tooth was from. It certainly wasn't human.
And even more odd was the headline the next day. It said that the two scientists studying the tooth, as well as the tooth, had been found missing.
And a question arose from the population in unison, What is going on here?!?
To this day, the mansion was still deserted. But everybody was still afraid that the killer was still there, waiting. How did he manage to destroy or subdue everyone in that hall? And how did he manage to rope them all up thirty feet in the air to the ceiling? Only two men had the answer.
One's name was Albus Dumbledore. The other...
To this day, the mansion was still deserted. However, the night is a different story.
"Yes, yes, this is perfect." A high, cold voice cackled through the halls of the great, dank castle.
"Well, your plans are interesting indeed. I think that the school is plenty enough for all of us. All that fresh, young blood. Yes, indeed."
"I know that not even Dumbledore could stop you, and your friends. And soon, I will not only take over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but... the world. And your only enemy shall be the sun."
"Yes. But we must proceed quickly, sir. For our thirst grows stronger each day."
"I understand. The new school year will start in a few weeks. Until then, nothing can be done."
"Very well." The second man smiled, his canine teeth abnormally large. He took a small needle out of his pocket and pricked his finger. Then the first man pulled out a roll of parchment, on which the second man promptly signed his name with the small amount of blood.
"And now that the deal has been made, I shall exit. Come, Wormtail."
"Y...yes, sir." The man named Wormtail squeaked. They both stood and muttered a few words, and seemed to vanish into thin air.
"Minions! The deal is sealed! Soon, we shall feast well!" The first man, who was tall, pale, and bearded, called out to over a hundred hooded figures. There were loud hisses from the crowd. "First we shall overturn Hogwarts and place in the hands of Master Voldemort, then we shall rule the night, and no one, the day! All we must do is follow his instructions. Does anyone have a problem with that?"
"I do." A voice called out from the crowd, which immediately parted. Another hooded figure stepped forward. The others removed their hoods, baring their long teeth and giving it nasty looks, their faces pale in the dim light. Most people would be confused, but the lone figure knew what they were.
Vampires.
"Which one are you?" The bearded man asked with mild interest.
"What business is it of yours? I'll be honest, I'm not one of yours."
"You're not?" The man bellowed in shock. "Minions!"
Before any one of the odd people could move in on the lone figure, he reached under his robes and revealed two semi-automatic pistols. Gunfire rang throughout the hall as bullets pierced bodies, which, not a moment later, dissolved into piles of smoking liquid. But the hooded figure was not the only one attacking. Several people in the back had began firing, also. And when they ran out of bullets, they each drew out long, silver swords, or wands from under their robes. The head vampire, who had spoken to his Minions, had already vanished.
Several of the others, still "alive", had rushed forward to attack. However, the hooded knights were as skilled with their swords and wands as their pistols. Soon, the room was filled with the smoking liquid, and four men pulled off their robes to reveal shiny chain mail, each with a logo painted upon it with the words, THE SILVER BULLET FACTION.
"Where is he? Where is the leader?"
"He disapparated. We can't track him."
"And just who the bloody hell is this Voldemort?"
The other men gasped.
"You said You-Know-Who's name?"
"What, Vol-"
"SHHH!" They all rasped in unison.
"It's a long story. But I'll tell you now, don't say that name. It scares people out of their wits. Mind you, I nearly wet meself when I heard it was You-Know-Who making the deal."
"What? Well, I don't really care as long as he's not a vampire. And we
killed most of them."
"That's not the point. We've failed the mission. Without killing the head vampire, we're sure he'll have new followers within a week."
"What?" The first man choked.
"That's right."
"But... but you guys are wizards! Isn't there like... a spell or something you can use to..."
"Only if they haven't drunk from the cup."
"The... the cup?"
"Sir?"
The senior stepped forward. "Known as the Cursed Cup or The Goblet of the Damned. It is a cup filled with a blood, but of what, no one but a vampire knows. One sip and you can not be reversed."
"Oh man, that's not good."
"No. It's not. Right now, while the schools are out, top potion masters and dark arts fighters of the world are working on a cure. It's not looking too good."
"Who's working on it?"
"Well, you wouldn't know them. There's Phyllida Spore, Arsenius Jigger, Quentin Trimble, Remus Lupin, Gilderoy Lockhart was on the list for the convention until they found out he was a fraud a few years back, Of course Dumbledore is overseeing the operation, as well as the Ministry, oh, and I've forgotten... oh yeah, professor Severus Snape."
"Snape, wasn't he a death eater?" One of the wizards remarked.
"He used to be. Now, We're splitting up. I'd like to find some proof for the ministry."
"What do we need to prove to them?"
"Everything, my friend. Everything."
* * *
Harry Potter awoke with a jolt. His scar was burning just as bad as ever. He'd just had the most shocking dream. It had ended somewhere around Voldemort. And there were a lot of odd looking figures in cloaks. Dementors? Was Voldemort finally in Azkaban?
No, he remembered. He disapperated. And the figures were too short. And then he remembered something else. Gunfire... something about a cup, and Snape...
It was fading all too quickly. He shook it out of his mind and walked over to his window, when Hedwig fluttered in, munching on a remarkably large insect.
"Morning." Harry yawned, as Hedwig finished up her breakfast. "What's this?" He pulled a letter of her leg. She gave a soft hoot and glided over to her cage. Harry opened the letter.
Harry,
I attached my next letter back to Hedwig because I don't want anyone becoming suspicious of the odd birds I've been sending you. I've kept in touch with Lupin, who has told me about the convention he is attending. There has been a lot of odd Vampire activity recently, especially within a large radius of Hogsmeade. I just want to tell you to be especially careful this year. Vampires are nothing to laugh at. They're about as bad as Dementors. So I'm warning you, don't go breaking the rules for any reason this year. Also, please tell me if you've heard anything about this. This is very important, so don't be afraid to tell me anything, got it?
Keep in touch,
Sirius
This brought the dream back to Harry. Those figures were vampires. He didn't want to sound paranoid, but he remembered what happened last year, and this is how it started out. Dream. Scar burning. And he couldn't help but feel it was his fault that Cedric died. Maybe if he had said something, none of it would have happened...
"I'll tell him. I've got to, don't I, Hedwig?" The snowy owl hooted softly. Harry got out a piece of parchment, and began to write.
Dear Sirius,
I don't want to sound paranoid, but after what happened last year, I feel I should tell you. I had another dream. There was Voldemort, and he'd been talking with this pale man. The man signed a paper with this red stuff, I think he cut his finger. Then Voldemort and Pettigrew Disapperated. There were also a lot of hooded figures, but then there was some gunfire, and several of them, well, melted. And then the four attackers talked about that convention, Lupin, Snape, a few of the authors of my schoolbooks, and something called the Goblet of the Damned or something. And Voldemort and the pale man had mentioned Hogwarts. I woke up, and my scar was really hurting. I know it sounds a bit paranoid and even stupid, but after what happened last year, I'm not so sure about anything anymore. Take care.
~ Harry
Yes, that would do. He just hoped he wouldn't get Sirius all worked up like last time. Even though last time, it turned out his dream was real...
He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and watched as she glided off into the dim morning.
Thump! Thump! Someone knocked on his door.
"Yes?"
"You up yet, boy?" Uncle Vernon barked by way of morning greeting. Of course. Harry had forgotten that they needed to make a trip up to London, to the special tailor. Dudley's diet had been going well in a sense, well, in the sense that he at least hadn't gained any weight over the past year. But he hadn't lost a whole lot, either. Mrs. Weasley, the mother of Harry's best friend, Ron, had sent Harry a load of meat pies and a large cake, which had lasted him the whole summer. He couldn't wait until school. Unlike most normal kids, well, Harry was not normal. In the sense that he was a wizard. He had found out so on his eleventh birthday when he was visited by the schools gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid.
His birthday... unlike most kids , Harry rarely looked forward to his birthday, which was never really celebrated by the Dursleys, anyway. But if he was correct, today was Saturday, so his birthday was in three days.
"Well, are you up? Wake up!" Uncle Vernon boomed.
"Oh, oh yes." Harry replied, and began to get dressed. He was putting on his left sneaker as he hopped one-footed down the stairs and was greeted by the smell of...
Health food. Aunt Petunia was fixing an all grain breakfast and had put out four settings with skim milk.
"I'm getting so sick of this." Uncle Vernon groaned at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't believe I haven't starved to death yet."
"Ah, breakfast! Looks excellent!" Harry said loudly and smugly. Uncle Vernon groaned, but didn't dare say anything. The Dursley's were terrified of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, hearing that he was a convicted murderer. Harry hadn't mentioned that Sirius was actually innocent. They constantly worried that Harry would tell Sirius they were treating him bad, and he would come after them and turn them into dung beetles or something. In the past few years, the tides had really turned against the Dursleys, and they had decided that they had better stop treating him so harshly. This, however, had been made up for in school, as Snape had gone from nasty to nightmare, and Malfoy was more irritating than dog droppings on the soles of your shoes (and worth about as much, as far as Harry was concerned).
He finished his breakfast as fast as he could, so he could go upstairs to have some real food before they left. When he got up there, however, he stopped silent. There was a large barn owl perched on his windowsill. It dropped a letter from its beak, turned, and flew off. Harry picked up the letter and recognized it instantly, sporting a purple wax seal with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and snake all surrounding an H.
That's funny, he thought, usually Hedwig brought his letter. Then again, It came rather early, and was a little thicker than usual. He opened it up, and pulled out several papers. One from professor McGonagall, welcoming him to the school, a list of books, and another paper, which Harry glanced at quickly. But then he did a double take. All future Hogsmeade visits will be canceled until further notice due to odd and dangerous vampire activity.
This was just great. This really made his day. He sat down, pulled up a floorboard, and quickly downed half of a meat pie. He had just finished up when something knocked him flat on his back. At first he thought he had somehow survived a shot to the head from a stray hunters bullet or something, but then he saw Pigwidgeon zip around his head, and drop a letter twice as big as him into Harry's lap. He ripped it open.
Dear Harry,
We're going up to Diagon Alley today, and wondered if you wanted to meet us up there. Sorry it's on such short notice, but we just got our Hogwarts letters early, and mum wants to take us up there a.s.a.p. Oh, and we have a little something to show you. Take it easy.
~Ron
P.S. Did you hear? We can't go to Hogsmeade this year. Man, this really stinks.
Harry took out a piece of paper and scratched down a reply, and tied it to Pigwidgeon, who promptly sped off.
"Hurry up, boy!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed from downstairs.
"I wish he'd call me by my real name." Harry muttered, and hurried down the steps, out the door, and into the Dursley's car. As they were driving down the highway to London, Harry spoke up.
"Er- Uncle Vernon?"
"What?" He replied sharply.
"My, uh, friends are meeting up today in London, and, well, we're going shopping for my school things," Uncle Vernon flinched. "And, well..."
"Wait a second." Uncle Vernon cut him off. "What do you mean, we?"
"I was about to ask if we could meet up and I could get my things with them..."
"I'm not lending you any money." Uncle Vernon growled darkly.
"I don't need any."
"Then how will you afford it? Go around begging? Actually, how have you been able to pay for it at all these years?" Dudley chuckled at this.
"Uh, well, wizards don't, er, have money..."
"Oh come off it, I wouldn't believe a lie like that."
"Well, you know I'm famous wherever I go. The shop owners always..."
"All right, I don't need to hear any more ruddy lies! Just find your ruddy friends and go. We'll meet up at the Taylor shop where we're going."
"All right." Harry sat back. There was something suspiciously cheery in Uncle Vernon's voice, though.
When they reached London, Harry hopped out of the back seat and started to hurry off. London was a big place, but he didn't have much trouble finding his way to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Harry!" He heard someone call as he entered. He looked over at the bar and saw the Weasleys and Hermione standing to greet him.
"Come here, dear, sit down and have a drink with us." Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly.
"Thank you very much, but I'm short. I haven't gone to Gringotts yet."
"Oh, don't worry dear, it's on us." Mrs. Weasley pulled out her purse.
"No, mum, it's on us. We owe Harry." Fred pulled a silver sickle out of his pocket. "What would you like, we owe you something."
"Er, well, how about a butterbeer?"
"Coming right up!" Tom the innkeeper flashed his toothless grin and handed Harry a tall, frothing mug.
"Owe me for what?" Harry asked.
"You'll see." George smiled. Soon, they all finished their drinks and headed down Diagon Alley. Straight down to Gringotts. Harry and the Weasleys showed one of the goblins their keys, and were soon rattling down the old track to their vaults. Harry's was first, and he went in, and stuffed his bag full of galleons and sickles and knuts, embarrassed at how his vault was so full compared to the Weasleys. He got in the cart and they began to ride down to the next vault. But when Mrs. Weasley opened the vault, Harry could hardly believe his eyes.
The vault was piled to the ceiling with galleons and sickles. A heap of knuts bigger than an elephant was resting in the corner. It was even more full than his vault. But he wasn't in the least bit jealous.
"This, Harry, we owe you for." Fred laughed.
"What? H-h-how?" Harry asked.
"The thousand Galleons prize money! We invested it in a joke shop and made a mint! Incredible! Well, we owe you at least a thousand, so..."
"No, no." Harry smiled. "That's fine. I'm really happy for you. This is great!"
"Oh, Harry, dear, thank you so much!" Mrs. Weasley called back to them as she filled her money bag.
"No... no problem." He said, in a sense dazed. They went out to get their books from the shops, including The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five, An Anatomy of Common Magical Creatures, and How To Defend Yourself From Basic Hexes. They also stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Harry bought a special detachable drag reducer for his broom. He didn't really think he'd need to outstrip a jet, until he saw something that made him choke. Up on the windowsill was a brand new broom model.
THE CONCORDE ULTIMATE
Is the newest model in a line of special top-brand world class racing brooms. It has been designed to achieve a top speed of 230 MPH and is equipped with a magical speed controller at top speed levels of 100, 150, or 230 MPH. Able to accelerate from 0 to 200 in 1.255 seconds, surpassing all other current broom models. It is also equipped with a special flight control system that makes it incredibly easy to handle at top speed. Among its other features it includes an unbreakable braking charm, a no-drag grip, and an earth-warping unit to slow drops and dangerous descents.
Price upon request.
Harry gazed at the broom. It had a front with a magic no-drag grip, and the tail seemed to have a golden glow to it. He turned around to show Ron and stopped cold, both surprised and amused.
Mrs. Weasley was putting down a pile of money as the man behind the counter boxed and handed three of the magnificent brooms to Fred, George, and Ron.
"There you go. Have a nice day." The man opened up a large register.
"Wow..." Harry gazed at the three. "Ron, why do you have one?"
"Oh, didn't you hear? I've been approved to be Gryffindor's new keeper. Isn't it great? Maybe by my seventh year, I'll be captain, like I saw in that mirror our first year!" Harry was also surprised Ron remembered the mirror of erised.
"Do you want one also, Harry?" George reached into his pocket.
"No thanks." Harry said, stunned that he would just haul off and buy something so remarkably expensive.
"Oh, all right."
"I tell you what, though," Harry felt that the Firebolt meant too much to him. "I'll bet you I can leave Ron here in the dust on his first time." He smiled.
"What makes you say that?" Ron asked.
"I have a little experience, while you have a brand new broom. And Wood told me I have the perfect build for a seeker. Mind you, I said first time only."
"I know. Hey, Harry, that reminds me. Wood gives his regards. He works for the Ministry's Recreation Division. He came by our house and tested my abilities. Didn't miss a single one, and then he wrote a letter suggesting me to Dumbledore. I wouldn't be surprised if Gryffindor is named one of the worlds most potential amateur teams by The Daily Profit this year! And Malfoy's father will never buy the team new brooms, since he only did it to get him on it. Hey, Harry, imagine the look on his face when he sees this!"
Harry imagined it. It would be so funny he couldn't not expect it.
"Time to go!" Mrs. Weasley walked back up to them. They all walked out into the street and back out of the leaky cauldron. When they got to the tailor shop to drop off Harry, however, there were no cars there. Harry hurried inside to the tailors desk.
"Excuse me, sir, did a family just leave here? A couple dragging a funny looking hot air balloon?" Harry couldn't resist the joke, since the Dursleys couldn't hear.
"Oh, yeah. But they left a half hour ago, when they were finished. I take it you don't get along well with your brother. You don't look much like him."
"He's my cousin, actually."
"Wait, is your name Harry?"
"Yes." Harry replied. "How did you know?"
"They left a note. Here." The man handed him a piece of paper. Harry read it.
He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe the Dursleys would stoop so low. The note told him to stay with "that dumpy red haired woman" and that "he should stay with his own kind."
"Is there a problem, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley walked up to him. "Is your family here?"
"No. I can't believe they left."
"Well, if you have permission, we would be delighted to have you over again this summer."
"Yeah. Yeah, they... they pretty much gave me permission."
"Oh, terrific! Let's go. What's that in your hand? A note they left you?"
"Yeah. A very rude one, if you ask me." He tossed it in the trash. "Sorry I'm so grumpy... you know muggles... oops..." He glanced at the tailor.
"Hey, kid, 's all right." He pulled a wand out of his desk drawer. "Those muggles are really nasty, you know? I made sure they'll be back in a month for my services again. Catch my drift?" He waved the wand around and put it back.
And Harry laughed all the way back to the Weasleys.
