Okay so here's the deal. I have this story in my head, right? And I have nothing to do with it. So I decide to write it here. Hope it's worth your time.
Kay. Here's the next deal. This is a fan fiction, yes. But it's a follow up on book 6, so it's like a lame fan's lame attempt at a book 7. Mmmmmkay?
Details:
Main characters- Draco & Harry (seperately)
Ships- Ha/G, Hr/R, initially. (Follows book 6, remember?)
Genre- Mainly angst, some romance and a smidge of humor when I feel like attempting it.
Rating- I try to keep it PG-13(T), but some themes and certain words hit R(M).

Chapter 1

..."The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the dark lord will mark him as equal. But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."...

But the prophecy was wrong. The biggest impact on Harry's life, the cause of his worry, the reason for the hours of trying to stay awake for fear of nightmares, was wrong. It was wrong. Just. Plain. Wrong. Harry had spent half his life worrying about some stupid premonition obviously misread by some stupid fortune teller than can't even see the papers on her desk, let alone the future. How could he have been so naive? Adults and old people had believed it too; that's why he did. But why did they believe it? Because some lady used a creepy voice when she said it? Well whatever, nothing mattered anymore, except for the fact that it was wrong.

Harry had not killed Voldemort. Voldemort had not killed Harry. Voldemort, however, is dead. Gone forever- dead. The most powerful wizard in the world, next to Dumbledore, had killed him. No huge final face off, no gigantic war to end the world. Just some serious guerilla warfare to catch the bad guys off guard and BAM! Voldemort's dead. It was rather anti-climactic, really. Don't misunderstand it, though; this was a big deal! But it's an even bigger deal because the prophecy didn't come true.

Some were convinced the prophecy was simply wrong. Others, convinced that Voldemort wasn't dead. Others were convinced that he is dead, but the prophecy had been misread, and was not meant for Harry and Voldemort. Each group of people had their opinions, but then you always have those milk-toast idiots who have no opinion because they can't think for themselves or simply don't care.

Harry himself thought the prophecy was just plain wrong. He was rather bitter about it too. His whole life had revolved around this prophecy. He'd been preparing for this final battle for forever; learning extra charms, and studying extra hard. It was probably for the best, but Harry was rather sour anyway.

One night while Harry was trying to fall asleep, he decided to pull apart this prophecy and see what's wrong with it. "The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches." Here lies problem #1: Which Dark Lord? Well that was obvious, but there must be more than one man of the Dark who calls himself a Lord. Next, problem #2. Approaches?? The time when Harry dies approaches, but that doesn't mean it's soon. This could happen 30 years from now! Two problems right there. Moving on.
"Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the dark lord will mark him as equal." Problem #3: There must've been more parents who have thrice defied the dark lord... define 'defy' anyway. Problem #4.There must be some other kid somewhere in the world born at the end of July. In fact, there must be hundreds- no, thousands of kids born at the end of July. Big whoop... and problem #5. Again, which Dark Lord?
Right there- five problems with that stupid prophecy and it's not even finished being analyzed. But Harry decided to save it for another night. He soon drifted off into sleep and had the strangest dream...

It was completely black- all he heard were voices. But he felt wet and hot as if he were being boiled in a tea kettle.
Harry heard a deep, raspy voice first.
"It is almost complete. He who shall carry out the prophecy is about to be unleashed to wreak havoc throughout the world!"
"Is there anything else I can do for you, My Lord?" But this was a voice Harry, unfortunately, recognized.
"No, Lucius, you are done here..."
A pause.
"Oh, Lucius. I will tell you this. Should anything happen to me, it will be you who will teach him. Nothing will prevent him from carrying out this prophecy. Is that understood?"
"Of course, my Lord. I am honored for the opportunity to take care of..."
"You are not to take 'care' of him! You are simply to teach him the necessary skills he needs to fulfill this prophecy!"
"I beg of your pardon, my Lord. I understand."
"Leave."

Harry, back in the safety of his own mind wondered what prophecy they were talking about. But he barely had time for these thoughts as the channel in his mind changed instantly and he tuned into another dark abyss much like the last one. Again, he only heard voices.

"Narcissa, dear, this is our son." a masculine voice softly cooed.
Had Harry been awake, he would have winced as he heard a blood-curdling scream. "NO!!! THIS IS NOT MY SON!!"
"Narcissa, yes! Can you not see the resemblance between us?"
"GET THAT MONSTER OUT OF MY HOUSE, LUCIUS, OR SO HELP ME..."
"Narcissa! This is our son whether you are pleased or not!"
"This monster was NOT born from me!! THIS IS A CREATION OF EVIL ITSELF!! CAN'T YOU SEE?" The voice called Narcissa broke down into wails and sobs.
"THE IMAGE OF INNOCENCE! HE IS A MERE INFANT!"
"A DEMON CHILD!"
"YOU WILL WATCH OVER HIM!"
"I WILL NOT TAKE-"
"IMPERIO! Narcissa, take this child as your son and love it for the rest of your life."

And though Harry did not know it, for he had woken up, that is exactly what she did.

If you have any questions or comments or anything, just review. This story's not really edited, it's kinda raw. So any constructive criticism is welcomed warmly. Kay thanks!