Years Gone By
A Harry Potter FanFic
By FireHawk
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters made by J. K. Rowlings. She owns all the original characters but I own Hawk Flamer and the plot. Please don't steal my characters or plots. If you ask to borrow them I would be glad to lend them to you. (
Chapter 1: The Visiter
It has been six years since Harry found out that he was a wizard. Six years since Hargid told him how his parents really died, not the rubish that his muggle relatives told him. 'Muggle' was the term for non-magic people that the magic people used for them. It has also been six years since Hagrid took him away from the Dursley's care and to one of the greatest schools of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, Hogwarts. Of coarse he had to come back durning the summer but the months that he was away were bliss!
Harry Potter was very famous in the wizarding world. He was known as the-boy-who-lived. He was called this because he was the only one that Voldemort, the darkest wizard of his time, could not kill him. Voldemort had killed hundreds before him, even his parents but he couldn't kill Harry. It was because of his mother's sacrifice to try and save him that protected Harry from Voldemort for fourteen years. In his fourth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort had made a spell that needed 'blood from an enemy forcefully taken' so Voldemort used Harry's blood. This reserrectd him and gave him the same protection as Harry so that he could now touch Harry. Although it doesn't matter now because Voldemort is gone for good. The very few of followers that survivers were still being round-up and thrown in the wizard jail, Azkaban. Now Harry could return to his final year of Hogwarts without someone after him, for once, after the summer was over.
"Harry!" yelled Harry's Uncle Vernon. Harry groaned. He didn't know what it was but no matter what happened around the house that was out of the ordinary; his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley would always blame him for it.
"Yes," he yelled down.
"Get down here right now!" yelled his uncle. Harry put down his wieghts that he was lifting and left his room after nearly tripping on his wizarding things. For the first few summers that he came back to, his Aunt and Uncle would lock up his things but after his third year, they let him keep his things in his room. They only let him do this because of his godfather that was an outlaw at the time. Sirus' name was now clear of all charges and Harry was going home after his last year of school to his rightful gardien and he and the Dursley's were counting down the days until then.
When Harry got down the stairs he saw his red-faced Uncle holding the front door open by only a crack.
"What is it?" asked Harry confused because for one of those rare times he was truly surprised by what his Uncle was trying to blame him for.
"What is one of your.your. kind of people doing at my front door?" asked Uncle Vernon not even bothering to lower his voice in case the person at the door could hear and his face getting even redder, if that was possible.
"What do you mean Uncle Vernon? Who's here?" asked a now very confused Harry. His friends rarely come and visit during the summer, they just owl him when they want to talk. Owl Post is how wizards and witches keep in touch with eachother.
"I mean what is this.this." he and the Dursleys didn't like anything abnormal so they obviously hated to be related to a wizard. They tried to never speek of Harry and his 'abnormallity' in the house or anywhere for that matter. Nothing was to be said about it because the Dursleys prided being normal.
"Uncle Vernon, who is here to see me?" asked Harry who was getting a little agravated. He went through this every year but on smaller scales but he still could barly stand it for long. Luckly summer wasn't very long but it always seemed longer to him.
"Her!" said Uncle Vernon, like is was a curse.
"'Her', who?" asked Harry.
Uncle Vernon opened the door the rest of the way so Harry could see a very fimilar girl standing on the porch next to a big trunk. Harry barely reconized her because her clothes were shread and she was beaten, bruised, and cut all over her body.
Uncle Vernon pointed to her and said, "Her! What is this," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "witch doing here?"
Harry didn't know the answer to the question because not only was 'What is Hermione doing here and alone?' running his mind but so was 'Who hurt her like this?'. He also couldn't help some feelings running through his heart: pain, fear, anger, longing, and was it..love, no jelousy, no both or is it just the urge to kill whoever did this to Hermione!
A Harry Potter FanFic
By FireHawk
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters made by J. K. Rowlings. She owns all the original characters but I own Hawk Flamer and the plot. Please don't steal my characters or plots. If you ask to borrow them I would be glad to lend them to you. (
Chapter 1: The Visiter
It has been six years since Harry found out that he was a wizard. Six years since Hargid told him how his parents really died, not the rubish that his muggle relatives told him. 'Muggle' was the term for non-magic people that the magic people used for them. It has also been six years since Hagrid took him away from the Dursley's care and to one of the greatest schools of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, Hogwarts. Of coarse he had to come back durning the summer but the months that he was away were bliss!
Harry Potter was very famous in the wizarding world. He was known as the-boy-who-lived. He was called this because he was the only one that Voldemort, the darkest wizard of his time, could not kill him. Voldemort had killed hundreds before him, even his parents but he couldn't kill Harry. It was because of his mother's sacrifice to try and save him that protected Harry from Voldemort for fourteen years. In his fourth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort had made a spell that needed 'blood from an enemy forcefully taken' so Voldemort used Harry's blood. This reserrectd him and gave him the same protection as Harry so that he could now touch Harry. Although it doesn't matter now because Voldemort is gone for good. The very few of followers that survivers were still being round-up and thrown in the wizard jail, Azkaban. Now Harry could return to his final year of Hogwarts without someone after him, for once, after the summer was over.
"Harry!" yelled Harry's Uncle Vernon. Harry groaned. He didn't know what it was but no matter what happened around the house that was out of the ordinary; his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley would always blame him for it.
"Yes," he yelled down.
"Get down here right now!" yelled his uncle. Harry put down his wieghts that he was lifting and left his room after nearly tripping on his wizarding things. For the first few summers that he came back to, his Aunt and Uncle would lock up his things but after his third year, they let him keep his things in his room. They only let him do this because of his godfather that was an outlaw at the time. Sirus' name was now clear of all charges and Harry was going home after his last year of school to his rightful gardien and he and the Dursley's were counting down the days until then.
When Harry got down the stairs he saw his red-faced Uncle holding the front door open by only a crack.
"What is it?" asked Harry confused because for one of those rare times he was truly surprised by what his Uncle was trying to blame him for.
"What is one of your.your. kind of people doing at my front door?" asked Uncle Vernon not even bothering to lower his voice in case the person at the door could hear and his face getting even redder, if that was possible.
"What do you mean Uncle Vernon? Who's here?" asked a now very confused Harry. His friends rarely come and visit during the summer, they just owl him when they want to talk. Owl Post is how wizards and witches keep in touch with eachother.
"I mean what is this.this." he and the Dursleys didn't like anything abnormal so they obviously hated to be related to a wizard. They tried to never speek of Harry and his 'abnormallity' in the house or anywhere for that matter. Nothing was to be said about it because the Dursleys prided being normal.
"Uncle Vernon, who is here to see me?" asked Harry who was getting a little agravated. He went through this every year but on smaller scales but he still could barly stand it for long. Luckly summer wasn't very long but it always seemed longer to him.
"Her!" said Uncle Vernon, like is was a curse.
"'Her', who?" asked Harry.
Uncle Vernon opened the door the rest of the way so Harry could see a very fimilar girl standing on the porch next to a big trunk. Harry barely reconized her because her clothes were shread and she was beaten, bruised, and cut all over her body.
Uncle Vernon pointed to her and said, "Her! What is this," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "witch doing here?"
Harry didn't know the answer to the question because not only was 'What is Hermione doing here and alone?' running his mind but so was 'Who hurt her like this?'. He also couldn't help some feelings running through his heart: pain, fear, anger, longing, and was it..love, no jelousy, no both or is it just the urge to kill whoever did this to Hermione!