Awaken: Blood of the Ancients

Harry Potter has just lost his Godfather and discovered what the prophecy really said. Ancient and long lost secrets are brought to light as Harry begins a journey that will test the both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Can Harry accept the changes he goes through, or will he lose himself in the darkness?

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so no pointing fingers.

Please no Flames, this is my first story and flamers will not be acknowledged. Constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged.

~parseltongue~

Spells, letters, thoughts, or flashbacks

Letters and flashbacks will be identified further, note that thoughts and spells that would normally be italicized will appear normal when in a letter or flashback. For words of emphasis, they will appear bolded and italicized.

PROPHECIES

AN:

Until Death and Magic decide later on to take on "genders", they will be referred to as it.

I will probably turn this into a romance, but I'm not sure who will be with who.

This will be a slow fic most likely as I enjoy reading more than I do writing. Give enough reviews, follows, or favorites though and that might change.

Chapter 1. First Stirrings

Dursleys' car

Harry sighed, looking out he car window as Uncle Vernon grumbled under his breath about 'his freak of a nephew'. Harry felt numb, the shock of losing his Godfather still preventing him from really accepting what had happened. Though, perhaps that was a good thing considering what he had done to Dumbledore's office.

**Flashback**

"Harry my dear boy, I am so sorry about what has happened to Sirius, he died bravely…"

Harry felt the numbness abruptly recede as he stared into his Headmaster's twinkling eyes. Honestly! What sort of person would sit there telling a young man that his only hope of escaping hell and the last of his true family was gone and still freaking twinkle at him? Harry had the sudden urge to poison the dish of lemon drops that Dumbledore was reaching to offer him.

"Sorry? Sorry won't bring him back!" Harry stood and shouted the last part. The portraits huffed and scowled, one even muttered about some sort of cruel and unusual punishment that should never be used on a student…except perhaps on Malfoy or Riddle. Dumbledore just sat there; eyes still twinkling and grim smile in place. Harry's head began to throb rather painfully the longer he looked. "Why was my name on that orb along with Voldemort's?" Harry managed to ask this in a semi-calm voice, but his eyes glowed with the fury that he felt. Harry still already knew what the prophecy said; he just wanted to know if the Headmaster would tell him the truth about the matter.

Dumbledore looked at him with a calculating gleam entering his eyes, as if he were debating the wisdom of what he was about to impart. "I suppose it is time for you to learn why Voldemort went after your family that night." Here Dumbledore paused, his blue eyes gazing at something only he could see. "It all started when one of Voldemort's spies overheard a job interview between Sybill Trelawney and myself. The spy overheard part of the prophecy that she made during our interview. He managed to make it back to his master to deliver the part he had overheard. Based off of the fragment of prophecy, Voldemort narrowed down his targets to just two families; yours and the Longbottoms."

Harry couldn't help it anymore; first having had to restrain himself from raging about the fraud that Trelawney was and the fact that Dumbledore had avoided saying what the prophecy said, now hearing about the Longbottoms was the final straw. "Neville? Neville Longbottom! What exactly did that prophecy say! Tell me! I have asked you why Voldemort has targeted me time after time, yet you never answer! It's my life, I need to know why!" Harry was standing with his arms braced against the Headmaster's desk, his face red, and his eyes glowing the exact same color as Avada Kedavra. Little did Harry know that his eyes were glowing in a way no human eyes would, even magical. The problem was compounded with the pupils slowly narrowing into slits and a small bit of crimson beginning to form around the pupils.

Dumbledore's smile finally froze and morphed into a frown, his fear carefully hidden behind said frown. "Very well, I only wanted to allow you to have a normal childhood." Harry snarled and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his hands on the desk. "Dumbledore…"

Dumbledore blanched, his instincts telling him 'run, run, run, run, hide', he coughed weakly to hide his gasping for breath. He calmed down slightly when Fawkes trilled a calming tune. "THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE TRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MAKE HIM AS HIS 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…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"(Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling). Dumbledore finished speaking and simply watched Harry. At first nothing happened, then time itself seemed to stop.

"Was Neville a candidate?" Dumbledore almost didn't hear the whispered question, but alas he did.

"Yes, though he was born on July 30th not the 31st. Voldemort was not willing to take any risks, so he came after you and ordered the Lestranges and Crouch Jr. to go after the Longbottoms." Dumbledore had answered Harry's question with his trademark twinkle and smile, he failed to notice how the red had spread outward like veins in Harry's eyes with his every word and action. That infernal smile and airy tone of voice snapped the last thread of Harry's control.

It was as if a bomb had suddenly gone off as time suddenly seemed to resume, but at an accelerated rate. Knickknacks and trinkets went flying, exploded, or simply melted. Black flames tipped in silver and blue seemed to halo Harry's body, shadows stirred, and a roar of fury erupted from his mouth. The portraits screamed and fled the chaos that had become the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was flung into a wood and glass cabinet that had till that moment somehow escaped Harry's magic's wrath. Glass ripped through the violently colored robes and sliced into skin. The desk cracked under Harry's fists when he slammed them down on top of it. Fawkes screeched and tried to dive-bomb him, but he too was flung backwards. Within mere seconds, but what seemed to last a lifetime, the once proud and beautiful office was ripped to shreds. Meanwhile, Harry wasn't even aware of what his magic was doing as he raged within his own mind at his life so far. His thoughts were like a hurricane and his magic mirrored it, he was completely unaware of this important fact. One thought stood before all the others within the eye of the storm: Dumbledore had lied to him.

I considered ending the chapter here, but I know how that feels…be glad I'm merciful.

Dursley Residence (A.K.A Harry's personal hell)

Harry was confused. Why you ask? Simple, he had remembered something after having one of his nightmares about the battle; the spot he'd taken the orb from. There was the orb he'd taken that had his name and an empty place with a lable containing his name as well. Only shards of glass remained in he spot where an orb should have been. His anger was steadily beginning to build the more he thought about the lie. The prophecy Dumbles has told him about was fake, well mostly fake. The real prophecy had a much more sinister sound to it, as if the fake wasn't sinister enough.

**Flashback**

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER OF THE ANCIENTS APPROACHES…BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED THE DARK LORD, HE WILL BE MARKED BY DEATH, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWERS UNKNOWN…WHAT WAS DESTROYED SHALL RISE AND WHAT WAS BUILT SHALL FALL, BLOOD SHALL REVEAL ALL, MAGIC WILL BE UNLEASHED, SHADOWS WILL AWAKEN, AND DEATH WILL BOW TO ITS MASTER…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO RULE APPROACHES AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"

**End Flashback**

Was the empty spot where the prophecy Dumbledore witnessed once held there? Did it come to pass on the night Voldemort lost his body? What about when I killed Quirrell and Diary Tom? Could any of these events have fulfilled the prophecy Dumbledore witnessed? Harry's headache grew worse as he attempted to figure out if Dumbledore knew about the other newer prophecy. Wait…hold on! The second prophecy was made the night Voldemort came to kill me. The tag for the first one was dated before I was born, so it had to have been fulfilled when the AK rebounded. Thank the gods…Voldemort is now their problem.

Harry felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The fear of always being the one to deal with Voldemort disappeared and he could not help grinning. He was done with worrying about meeting everyone's expectations; he would do what he wanted and damn them all if they did not like it. The second prophecy was worrying though, and he frowned. Had Dumbledore known about it? Most likely, or at least knew of it, hence his anger at the old coot.

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, his back had started aching again. Between a growing headache and a back that felt like a bad bruise being pressed on, Harry was more miserable than normal. As the numbness wore off, the sorrow and guilt began to build. Harry blamed himself for Sirius's death. If he had not run off without trying to do more to reach an Order member or Sirius himself, he would never have gone to the Ministry. Tears leaked out of his eyes and he suddenly burst into sobs as it really hit him; Sirius was dead and it was all because of him. He had nearly gotten his friends killed as well. The guilt was crushing him and he felt like he could not breath without suffocating on it. Harry cried and cried, letting all of his pain and anger out as he screamed into his ratty pillow. By the time he finally hiccoughed the last of his tears and screams out, he was beyond exhausted. The last few days had been beyond hectic and between the battle, the office incident, and the emotional rollercoaster, he fell into a coma like sleep. Blissfully unaware of how his life was about to change forever…unaware that the planet was about to reveal her most guarded and dangerous secret.

Far away, under miles of water in the Bermuda Triangle, a sudden rumble echoed through the water. Magic, which had been swirling about lazily became frenetic and thick. Magic long since thought dead to the world of magic, long thought lost by the world of Muggles was awakening. The water became warmer; the climate within the triangle was changing, reverting to what it once was. Ancient wards became active once more and those sensitive to such things hid in fear. Something that had been thought destroyed and long lost was rising, recovering, rebuilding. Awakening.

Death stirred. It slowly stretched out to watch the events unfold around it. It had waited far too long for this, and from the look of things, Death would be waiting a while longer. It grumbled, displeased that its future master had yet to claim the other two Hallows. Why was its master waiting? Had something happened? Death reached out to search for any irregularities. Death snarled, there was simply no other word for it, it was furious.

"Horcruxes… my master, no soon to be master is a horcrux. The Dark Lord has gone too far. Why? Why now am I able to sense the horcrux within him? Did the close proximity to the veil do something to make it visible?" Death, for reasons unknown, felt the need to muse vocally. Magic thought that it just liked the sound of its voice.

"It could be that the forbidden room has something to do with it."

Death whirled around, glaring at a smirking swirl of…well…magic. (Don't ask about how a swirl of magic can smirk, I said it can. My word is law)

"You!" Death did not look amused as it swiped at Magic with its scythe. Magic nimbly moved out of the way. Grinning mockingly.

There was a small feud between the two. It had started when Magic enabled for immortality to become possible. Death found such a thing offensive if it was not the one to grant it. Since the very first immortal, Death and Magic had been trying to one up the other. It was up for debate as to which had won the last round. The last round was incidentally the Boy-Who-Bloody-Won't-Die. Magic claimed that Harry Potter would have never survived without its blessing. Death claimed the same thing, however, in doing so, Death managed to royally screw itself. While the only consequence of Magic declaring Potter as having its blessing, along with a few other forces, Death's claim created a consequence that was quite different…very different. Rather than simply receiving a blessing, baby Harry received a promised title; Master of Death. To say Death was displeased when it realized what had happened when it anchored the child's soul when Voldemort's Avada Kedavra hit him,would be the ultimate understatement. Death was still enraged at itself for giving away the Hallows and not collecting them upon the original owner's death. If it had not been for the third brother willingly welcoming Death, then it would have had all of its Hallows back. But no, the git had to go and do something that Death never thought he would, something he thought only suicidal people would do. It was painfully obvious as to where Potter had descended most directly from.

Magic, pain in the ass that it was decided that it should stoke the already blazing fire by poking at Death with a tendril of itself. "You." Death barely kept itself in check, it had to remind itself that it was the elder and therefore more responsible and would not sink into such a childish trap. Magic tended to respond by saying exactly what Death said just to be an even bigger pain. As if Potter and Riddle didn't already make its existence miserable, now Magic decided it was the perfect time to harass Death.

"What do you mean by the forbidden room contributing to the mess?" Magic bounced around in gleeful excitement. Death gave its best death glare. (yes, I know, but I couldn't help it)

"Ohhh, is Death miffed that it did not know something for once? Hmm? Well if you really want to know then say please." Magic was grinning rather manically; barely able to contain its evil laugh at the look Death was giving it.

"Please. Please impart you wisdom upon my low and inferior self." The words felt like acid and Death almost didn't manage to grate them out. As it was, the request sent a small thrill of fear up and down Magic. It knew that tone; it was not a good sign. Maybe it should stop taunting Death until it had the chance to calm down.

"Err, right, well where was I? Ah! I was going to tell you about the forbidden room. When the boy was in the Department of Mysteries, his love for his friends and family was so great that the door to the forbidden room opened. Now, even I cannot mess with Love or interfere in any way really, it is completely different, like you and I. Night and day, you get the picture. I don't know what Love is planning, nor do I want to ask it. I believe that it probably is feeding the Potter child its power. In doing so, if it indeed is doing this, then the horcrux would naturally try to separate from the child's soul to escape something so pure. By hiding within the one soul you can't accurately sense, it had found the perfect hiding place. As it is no longer trying to integrate itself, the shard is sticking out like black on white." Magic anxiously regarded Death as it began to pace. Long delicate bone fingers clenched. Thankfully Death felt the need to wear an ominous billowing black cloak of shadows and mist. Its large black feathered wings twitching every now and then in response to Death's agitation.

Death swung about to face Magic so suddenly that it was taken off guard and squeaked in fright. Death smirked at Magic's reaction, causing others to squeak or scream, it wasn't picky, never got old.

"Pray tell, why now?" Magic looked confused at the question, flashing several different colors as it tried to understand the question.

"Why now what?" Death's hand tightened on its scythe. It sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, counting to ten in an attempt to calm down.

"Why is Love interfering now? Why not before earlier like the others all seemed to do in a temporary fit of madness?" Magic started bouncing round, colors flashing wildly.

"Love has much harsher conditions to be met. It along with Life are the only two that can go up against you. You three can't beat the each other, but you do make a habit of interfering with the other's domains. It is possible that Life and Love are trying to one up you. What better way than with your future master?" Death's reaction to this news was strange. It stood there, not moving, silent, seeming to have been petrified. Magic was extremely tempted to poke Death to see if it had somehow been petrified. "Err…Death? You alright there?"

"Those bloody interfering…" Death began a rant of epic proportions, a massive tantrum really. It was so bad that Magic was both horrified and amused, and it's not easily horrified. The words Death knew were impressive and its use of such foul language awe-inspiring. Justice and Luck, two fast friends decided to see what had set off Death this time. It was hardly a surprise to see Magic cowering behind a rock as Death began destroying things left and right. Luck snorted, Justice laughed, Magic whimpered, and Death roared.

"What did you do?" This new voice caused the others to freeze. They all slowly turned to look at the small woman gaping in horrified fascination and the old man squinting at an hourglass at her side.

"Ah, shite! Love, you have the worst timing." Love jumped and turned to glare at Chronos. Unfortunately, she failed to notice Death lunging at her. With a football worthy tackle, the two began wrestling across the ground in the Shadow realm. The whole time the crowd of onlookers only continued to grow.

"So…what set Death off? Or rather who?" The onlookers groaned and scrambled away from Life. Of course he would show up. If Love and Death were together for any length of time, he was bound to show up as well. Life was almost as nosey as Love. Death whipped its head around to glare at its brother. It was a mystery why Death and Magic were still undecided as to what gender they prefer. The others had long ago chosen a gender and were quite content. Love lay panting on the ground, completely confused as to why her sibling had attacked her. Though a niggling feeling of guilt was slowly spreading.

"Why brother dearest, how wonderful of you to join us." Death's sarcastic tone of voice made several beings wince. Bad things happened when Death used that tone. It was by far the most "human" of the beings. It was only natural for such a thing to occur as it was constantly exposed to human souls. That sort of exposure has drastic effects on any being. The real reason it refrained from choosing a gender was due to its fear that Life and Love would set some sort of trap or prank. Keep in mind that pranks between beings are on a level no human could achieve. Except perhaps for the Marauders, Twins, or Harry himself. Of course none of the others knew that was the reason why Death remained genderless.

Some of the beings began to stealthily sneak away. None wanted to be present for the epic battle between the three siblings that was about to break out. The guilt that no filled both Life's and Love's faces did not bode well for the others, Peace especially.

With the sound of an enraged hell beast, Death flung itself at Life, dragging Love along with it.

The others scattered.

The battle had begun.

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