A/N: This is my idea of what the 6th book might hold and what would be very
cool. Just read the first chapter and you will be hooked. I promise more
suspense later. (as italics are hard to show, the italicized parts are
indicated with *s.) I own none of these characters. I AM HAVING TROUBLE
COMING UP WITH A TITLE. IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS, PLEASE STATE THEM IN A
REVIEW. I WILL BE ETERNALLY GRATEFUL.
Harry was lying face up on his bed at Four Privet Drive. *Harry Potter, the Biography of the Boy Who Lived* was lying open to page 14 next to him. Hermione had sent it to him, saying in the note that she thought it would make him laugh.
He had. Whoever the author was didn't know the first thing about Harry.
*Harry Potter. The famed wizard who defended his parents from You- Know-Who when he was only an infant. Though Harry remarkably escaped with his life, his parents Lila and Jimmy Potter were not so lucky. The orphaned baby was sent to live with muggles somewhere in Poland.
Harry was brought up without even knowing his past defeat of the Dark Lord, or even that he was a wizard. Never the less, he was always the most popular child at his muggle school and nothing of his status changed once he came to Hogwarts as a Gryffindor.
Harry Potter is currently entering his sixth year at Hogwarts where he will be reunited with his friend Don Weasley and girlfriend Henrietta Gardner.
Since starting school, Harry has protected the Sorcerer's Stone, and single- handedly defeated a basilisk: a gargantuan snail whose slime is poisonous. He has helped trap the notorious Sirius Black only to have him escape again, engaged in duel with He-who-must-not-be-named, himself, and taken on a large number of death eaters in a fight over the Mirror of Erised last June.
But is this remarkable boy all he's made out to be? We have heard from a source that there is a certain prophecy made about Harry. His destiny is to form his own magical school in Scandinavia where he will teach the secrets of our magical world to muggles! Should this fifteen-year-old be locked up for the sake of the protection of our society? No! Harry Potter has done nothing wrong and don't we teach in our own households that we can change our destiny? All we need to do is give him some direction.
Harry has told us that he has no intention of becoming a headmaster of some non-existent school. Instead, he wishes to become a Niffler-breeder.*
Harry shut the book with a grin on his face. Suddenly, Harry's stomach dropped. There were some morons at school who would believe it. "Great. Just great," Harry thought. Now he would have a whole new set of rumors to deal with when he returned to Hogwarts.
"Niffler-Breeder? Eh, Potter? Good for you for aiming high," he could just hear Draco Malfoy drawling.
There was a soft tap at Harry's window. A brown barn owl was tapping impatiently, perched on the sill.
"Daily Prophet!" Harry bounded over his bed and thrust the window open with enthusiasm. Harry was hungry for news and each summer he resented being separated from the wizarding world more.
The owl hopped in and allowed Harry to untie the newspaper which had a picture of a Ministry witch shaking her head sadly on the front. In the wizarding world the photographs could move.
Harry flopped onto his unmade bed with his newspaper and read a large, dark headline stating, "Dementors Refuse to Work." Harry's spine tingled horribly. Though he was glad that the Ministry was finally facing the facts about Voldemort, he wasn't prepared to greet such terrible news almost immediately. He scolded himself for not having expected something like this.
A sharp pinch on his ankle brought him back to his bedroom. The brown owl was standing at the foot of Harry's bed looking irritated.
"Why are you still here?" Harry asked, eager to return to his Prophet. The owl bit him again. "Ow! Oh, you'll want paying then," Harry said sheepishly. The owl ruffled its feathers.
Harry dropped to his bedside and fished some money out of the loose floorboard beside his bed. He knew Dudley had no use for Harry's money but it would be very Dudley-ish to scatter Harry's Galleons, Sickles and Knuts around the neighborhood.
He gave the owl five Knuts and it flew off angrily.
Harry read the article quickly, and feeling thoroughly depressed, he set the paper aside and picked up his Christmas present from Sirius and Lupin, a book entitled, "Practical Defensive Magic and it's Use Against the Dark Arts." He read a chapter and then put it down. The book reminded him of Sirius.
A huge lump rose in his throat and the empty space he had been trying to ignore all summer throbbed in his chest. He buried his face deep inside his pillow, willing the tears that stung his eyes to disappear. In the end he could not hold them back and he sobbed quietly into his pillowcase. He felt embarrassed that at fifteen he was crying like a baby but he also wanted to scream and throw things about his room as he had done in Dumbledore's office. In the end he just lay on his bed, exhausted from his overwhelming feelings.
A hoot from Hedwig brought him out of his lethargy. When Harry looked up and rubbed his eyes clear, he saw two owls waiting for him outside the open window. One was small and grey and it was zooming in circles around the other, who looked very old and didn't seem to notice the younger, madder, annoyance.
Harry dragged himself from bed, wiping his eyes in embarrassment. As soon as Pigwidgeon-- his friend Ron's owl -- recognized him, he fluttered in and attempted to make the letter he was carrying stick to Harry's head.
Harry grabbed the parchment off Pig, half annoyed, half amused, and tore it open.
*Dear Harry, How's it going, mate? Muggles aren't poking you too much are they? Anyway, Mum says you can come to the Burrow now, if you like. We've already checked with Dumbledore. Write back soon and let us know when to pick you up. Please say you're coming. Write back quick!
Your Friend,
Ron*
Harry frowned at the last sentence, but contained his urge to write a reply right away and turned to the other owl. It had hopped inside feebly and Harry saw just how old it was. The parchment tied to its leg was blue and Harry untied it with curiosity.
As he unfolded the note, a lot of confetti and streamers burst out from it, filling Harry's hair and sprinkling his bed. He shook his hair and glasses out and then replaced them, reading the card.
*It's Neville Longbottom's 16th birthday! You are invited to attend Neville's 16th birthday party in his garden at 4:00 on Sunday. There will be food, games, and lots of your school friends.
Please R.S.V.P as soon as possible by owl post. Hope you can make it!*
Harry smiled and dropped the invitation on his bedspread and went to his desk, pulling a quill, parchment and ink from the floorboard on the way.
*Dear Ron, Yes I think I can come. You can pick me up as soon as possible-maybe tomorrow morning at 9:00? Did you get an invitation to Neville's party? Write back
Harry*
Harry read over the note once and then rolled the parchment into a scroll and tied it to Pig's leg; a task that was easier said than done. He then flopped on his bed and took the blue card in his hand. He wondered who else had been invited. Hermione and Ron, probably. Maybe Ginny, Seamus and Lee, too. A small thought in the back of Harry's head wondered if maybe Neville's parents would be there. That day at the hospital had stuck in his memory as if it had happened yesterday. His mother's sad, sweet face. Her handing the bubble gum wrapper to Neville as a "present." He remembered Neville slipping it into his pocket as if it was a priceless gift.
Harry was lying face up on his bed at Four Privet Drive. *Harry Potter, the Biography of the Boy Who Lived* was lying open to page 14 next to him. Hermione had sent it to him, saying in the note that she thought it would make him laugh.
He had. Whoever the author was didn't know the first thing about Harry.
*Harry Potter. The famed wizard who defended his parents from You- Know-Who when he was only an infant. Though Harry remarkably escaped with his life, his parents Lila and Jimmy Potter were not so lucky. The orphaned baby was sent to live with muggles somewhere in Poland.
Harry was brought up without even knowing his past defeat of the Dark Lord, or even that he was a wizard. Never the less, he was always the most popular child at his muggle school and nothing of his status changed once he came to Hogwarts as a Gryffindor.
Harry Potter is currently entering his sixth year at Hogwarts where he will be reunited with his friend Don Weasley and girlfriend Henrietta Gardner.
Since starting school, Harry has protected the Sorcerer's Stone, and single- handedly defeated a basilisk: a gargantuan snail whose slime is poisonous. He has helped trap the notorious Sirius Black only to have him escape again, engaged in duel with He-who-must-not-be-named, himself, and taken on a large number of death eaters in a fight over the Mirror of Erised last June.
But is this remarkable boy all he's made out to be? We have heard from a source that there is a certain prophecy made about Harry. His destiny is to form his own magical school in Scandinavia where he will teach the secrets of our magical world to muggles! Should this fifteen-year-old be locked up for the sake of the protection of our society? No! Harry Potter has done nothing wrong and don't we teach in our own households that we can change our destiny? All we need to do is give him some direction.
Harry has told us that he has no intention of becoming a headmaster of some non-existent school. Instead, he wishes to become a Niffler-breeder.*
Harry shut the book with a grin on his face. Suddenly, Harry's stomach dropped. There were some morons at school who would believe it. "Great. Just great," Harry thought. Now he would have a whole new set of rumors to deal with when he returned to Hogwarts.
"Niffler-Breeder? Eh, Potter? Good for you for aiming high," he could just hear Draco Malfoy drawling.
There was a soft tap at Harry's window. A brown barn owl was tapping impatiently, perched on the sill.
"Daily Prophet!" Harry bounded over his bed and thrust the window open with enthusiasm. Harry was hungry for news and each summer he resented being separated from the wizarding world more.
The owl hopped in and allowed Harry to untie the newspaper which had a picture of a Ministry witch shaking her head sadly on the front. In the wizarding world the photographs could move.
Harry flopped onto his unmade bed with his newspaper and read a large, dark headline stating, "Dementors Refuse to Work." Harry's spine tingled horribly. Though he was glad that the Ministry was finally facing the facts about Voldemort, he wasn't prepared to greet such terrible news almost immediately. He scolded himself for not having expected something like this.
A sharp pinch on his ankle brought him back to his bedroom. The brown owl was standing at the foot of Harry's bed looking irritated.
"Why are you still here?" Harry asked, eager to return to his Prophet. The owl bit him again. "Ow! Oh, you'll want paying then," Harry said sheepishly. The owl ruffled its feathers.
Harry dropped to his bedside and fished some money out of the loose floorboard beside his bed. He knew Dudley had no use for Harry's money but it would be very Dudley-ish to scatter Harry's Galleons, Sickles and Knuts around the neighborhood.
He gave the owl five Knuts and it flew off angrily.
Harry read the article quickly, and feeling thoroughly depressed, he set the paper aside and picked up his Christmas present from Sirius and Lupin, a book entitled, "Practical Defensive Magic and it's Use Against the Dark Arts." He read a chapter and then put it down. The book reminded him of Sirius.
A huge lump rose in his throat and the empty space he had been trying to ignore all summer throbbed in his chest. He buried his face deep inside his pillow, willing the tears that stung his eyes to disappear. In the end he could not hold them back and he sobbed quietly into his pillowcase. He felt embarrassed that at fifteen he was crying like a baby but he also wanted to scream and throw things about his room as he had done in Dumbledore's office. In the end he just lay on his bed, exhausted from his overwhelming feelings.
A hoot from Hedwig brought him out of his lethargy. When Harry looked up and rubbed his eyes clear, he saw two owls waiting for him outside the open window. One was small and grey and it was zooming in circles around the other, who looked very old and didn't seem to notice the younger, madder, annoyance.
Harry dragged himself from bed, wiping his eyes in embarrassment. As soon as Pigwidgeon-- his friend Ron's owl -- recognized him, he fluttered in and attempted to make the letter he was carrying stick to Harry's head.
Harry grabbed the parchment off Pig, half annoyed, half amused, and tore it open.
*Dear Harry, How's it going, mate? Muggles aren't poking you too much are they? Anyway, Mum says you can come to the Burrow now, if you like. We've already checked with Dumbledore. Write back soon and let us know when to pick you up. Please say you're coming. Write back quick!
Your Friend,
Ron*
Harry frowned at the last sentence, but contained his urge to write a reply right away and turned to the other owl. It had hopped inside feebly and Harry saw just how old it was. The parchment tied to its leg was blue and Harry untied it with curiosity.
As he unfolded the note, a lot of confetti and streamers burst out from it, filling Harry's hair and sprinkling his bed. He shook his hair and glasses out and then replaced them, reading the card.
*It's Neville Longbottom's 16th birthday! You are invited to attend Neville's 16th birthday party in his garden at 4:00 on Sunday. There will be food, games, and lots of your school friends.
Please R.S.V.P as soon as possible by owl post. Hope you can make it!*
Harry smiled and dropped the invitation on his bedspread and went to his desk, pulling a quill, parchment and ink from the floorboard on the way.
*Dear Ron, Yes I think I can come. You can pick me up as soon as possible-maybe tomorrow morning at 9:00? Did you get an invitation to Neville's party? Write back
Harry*
Harry read over the note once and then rolled the parchment into a scroll and tied it to Pig's leg; a task that was easier said than done. He then flopped on his bed and took the blue card in his hand. He wondered who else had been invited. Hermione and Ron, probably. Maybe Ginny, Seamus and Lee, too. A small thought in the back of Harry's head wondered if maybe Neville's parents would be there. That day at the hospital had stuck in his memory as if it had happened yesterday. His mother's sad, sweet face. Her handing the bubble gum wrapper to Neville as a "present." He remembered Neville slipping it into his pocket as if it was a priceless gift.