Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's work or characters.

This is the first time I'm attempting to write a fan fic. I've read lots of them and find a lot of them very good and others not so much.

I have a great imagination but I also have a problem with following through. So don't expect weekly updates. I have an idea for this story but it may take some time and planning to put into action. I've had this on my computer for about 2 months and I decided why not put it out there and see if anybody likes it so far.

I'm very open to suggestions so don't be afraid to just let me have it. If you like it, tell me why. If you don't, tell me why. So thanks in advance.

Stranger Tides

Chapter One

Inbox

"Slytherin!" Harry chuckled to himself. His son Albus had the most curious worries. But then again if Harry had had a brother like that rascal James he may have been the same way. But Albus would be fine, Harry assured himself, just fine.

"Watch it!" yelled a biker speeding past.

Harry had been so caught up in his thoughts he had almost walked right into an incoming herd of traffic. "Oh, dear!" gasped Harry, smiling to himself at his own foolishness.

Harry was on his way to the visitor's entrance of the ministry of Magic today. Normally he would floo in from home, where his wife Ginny would make sure he had his morning coffee and matching socks. Yet this morning he had cut it close seeing the kids on to the train. Ginny and little Lily had gone on with Ron and Hermione and he came out the muggle end to see where James had dropped his watch.

Not wanting to apparate in the presence of a morning rush of copious muggles, Harry headed straight for the visitor's entrance not far from the train station.

Reaching the red phone booth Harry stepped inside the box and announced his name and business clearly into the mouthpiece, listened to the instructions of the cool female voice and felt the floor of the phone box shudder as the sidewalk rapidly rose up and away.

Before he knew it he was in the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic and off to the department of magical law enforcement.

Although quite normal as he was now, Harry seemed to always attract an eye or two here and there from younger ministry employee's as he made his way towards the lifts. They had all heard about his legendary defeat of Lord Voldermort 19 years ago and not being alive at the time or in some cases just too young to remember, they always tried to catch a glimpse of the scar that caused so much trouble, yet proved to be a blessing in disguise in the end.

Harry, being quite used to this kind of treatment by now, stepped in to the lift said his good mornings and how do you do's to no one in particular. He was quite at his ease and engrossed in his own thoughts when the lift dinged and the cool female voice announced Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Two rights and a left later Harry was pulling off his jumper and pulling his chair out to have a seat when he noticed the envelope in his inbox.

It was the thick card type, folded over with heavy weighted parchment and a fresh wax seal.

Harry knew where it was from instantly, because out of all the departments in the ministry only one didn't use the flexible paper airplane inter-office memos. But why was there a letter with his name on it from that place? What was the damned thing doing in his inbox?

Harry never had any contact with that department choosing to steer clear ever since the memorable occurrences that took place there during his fifth year at Hogwarts. Just looking at that thick parchment now brought back floods of memories; unpleasant ones, about giant snakes, smashing orbs, black shadows, spinning brains, and a veil in a high wind.

Harry pushed the dark thoughts to the back of his mind and picked up the envelope gingerly. What could be written inside? What could the department of mysteries or anybody inside it want with him? Surely, there was nothing left there of any importance to him. There was nothing within those mysterious rooms of homicidal objects that had any connection to him anymore. The prophecy that caused him so much pain and so much misery was gone. Smashed and destroyed all those years ago and its behest fulfilled.

Pushing his trepidation aside, Harry opened the seal and read the note inside. In tiny loopy letters, the sender wrote:

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is my request that you come to the Department of Mysteries at your earliest convenience. There is a matter of some importance that I must discuss with you. You can imagine my excitement when it arrived last night, at the very stroke of midnight! It came neatly wrapped in a box with instructions clearly stating that it was to be delivered to you and only you. We in the department know enough about these things to tell you that it is a prophecy, and as only the subject of the prophecy is allowed to touch it. The sender was quite right to insist that you be the one to unwrap it. The Hall of Prophecy houses all prophecies made and as the right to the prophecy's contents are yours, you are allowed, and I must insist urged to come and view it yourself, but as you are not the only subject of the prophecy you will not be allowed to take it. Living or not as current information suggests, all subjects of a prophecy must be allowed to access the record at any given time within reason. The record must stay in the Hall of Prophecy, until such time as the prophecy is declared null and void or all subjects of the prophecy are undisputedly expired in all forms.

Hoping to see you soon,

Yours Sincerely,

Benjamin Burns

Shock. Utter Shock. A prophecy? Another God damned prophecy? Harry stared at the paper in utter disbelief. 'They can't be serious?!' he thought. 'It must be a joke…Ron, yes Ron must be behind this, having a go at me.'

Almost as if he had summoned him there using a summoning charm, Ron popped his head around the door to his office. "There you are mate, Ginny, Hermione and I wondered where you had got to this morning. Bloody hell Harry, you look like you just saw a dementor!" At this Ron turned around to check that the coast was clear, as if he wouldn't have noticed a dementor floating behind him the hall way.

Turning back to Harry, Ron made his way into the room and plopped himself into the armchair across from Harry's desk. "So, where did you get to mate?"

"Did you do this?" said Harry. "I walked in and this was sitting on my desk," grimaced Harry as a thrust the letter at Ron with so much force it banged into his nose and ricocheted into Harry's desk lamp landing in the pile of papers showing the faces of mid-level offenders to the statue of secrecy. Rubbing his nose Ron picked up the letter looking alarmed.

"Blimey Harry, I haven't that foggiest at what that was about, what is…" Ron trailed off as he read the letter. His bushy red eyebrows sprouted wings as they flew upward into his bangs. "What the?" sputtered Ron, to Harry's disappointment. Ron had never been a good liar and his utter surprise was enough to convince Harry that this was no prank of Ron's.

"So it is real then," sighed Harry. Letting his head fall into his hands, Harry pushed his untamable hair back out of his eyes and leaned back in his reclining office chair. "So I guess I will have to go down there then."

"But, what could this mean Harry," said Ron. "You don't think it could be You Know Who, I mean, you finished him, we finished him, all seven pieces of him, didn't we? I don't reckon; he could be back, do you?"

"Whoa there, hold your hippogriffs Ron. It didn't say anything about Voldermort," Ron flinched at the name. "Oh, and would you stop it already, its' been nearly 20 years! He's dead! Finished, finite! The name isn't jinxed anymore and it won't hurt you! VOLDERMORT, VOLDERMORT, VOLDERMORT!" yelled Harry.

"Alright, bloody hell Harry, you're in a right mood this morning. That time of month again?" pacified Ron. Harry shot him a look of daggers.

"Alright look, just go down there and see what it's about. It can't be that bad, can it?" grimaced Ron.

Harry sat down again, picked up the letter and stared at the parchment almost willing the words to disappear off the paper, kind of like they did from that diary in his second year; the diary that nearly cost he and his wife their lives. Shaking his head to clear if of dark thoughts, he looked up at Ron pleading with him for some solution to this newly arisen pain in his rear.

"Harry," cooed Ron, "just go down there, open the bloody box, listen to it, put it on the shelf and move on. You said yourself it probably doesn't have anything to do with you know…I mean Voldermort." Ron stopped and caught his breath. "I mean really whatever it is it can't be anything really can it? You've already defeated a dark lord 7 times over and there can't be anything worse than that. Look on the bright side you already died once and came back, what is there that anyone can throw at you now." "It's probably just about Nearly Headless Nick inviting you to another Birthday gala of his. And it's warning you not to go!" chuckled Ron.

"Nearly Headless Nick, really, that's the best pep talk you can give?" sighed Harry smiling slightly.

"Well in my book, anything that doesn't involve spiders is a vacation!" laughed Ron.

Harry grinned and looked at his best friend, resigning himself to the idea of making that trip down to the forbidden department. "Come with me," said Harry.

"Oh no, mate! I'm not going anywhere near that place. I wouldn't touch the door with a fifty foot pole. The last time I followed you down there I ended up seeing Uranus up close and got a little to close and personal with a homicidal brain. Even if there aren't any Death Eaters lurking in the shadows trying to kill me this time, I'd rather steer clear of the place that almost put me in the loony bin. So thanks, but no thanks," chuckled Ron with so much sarcasm on that last sentence, Harry was sure he dipped it thoroughly in a vat of the stuff before letting it come out of his mouth.

"You're such a good friend, you are," said Harry trying the sarcasm out himself, and finding that he wasn't bad at it.

"The very best and you know it! Do I need to bring up saving your scrawny ass from a horcrux again?" laughed Ron as he got up and headed for the door.

"Only after you left me hanging to begin with you lily-livered skrewt," shot back Harry with a grin.

"Good point that, but hey don't I always turn up when you need me!" laughed Ron. "Harry, I'm sure it's nothing, you'll be fine, like you said the war is over and has been for a long time. Whatever this is, it probably isn't even that important, maybe you'll solve a cold case or something."

"First I'll get an invite to Nick's birthday party and then I'll solve a cold case. You really are psychic! I have no idea why Trelawny didn't see any promise in you Ron!" laughed Harry. "But, thanks for the pep talk Ron, I'll see ya," said Harry waving him away.

"I've got to go help dad apprehend this guy that's been putting biting doorknobs on toilet doors in public restrooms. Though personally I find the thought hilarious! Imagine some poor wanker going for a pee and all of a sudden the doorknob growls and has a go at your fingers. The poor blokes have probably been pissing themselves and having to go back out in front of all the people in the mall and on the streets with their pants soaked, running all the way home and screaming about biting doorknobs. I mean come on you have to admit that has got to be a sight to see," laughed Ron with tears of joy blooming in his eyes.

"Don't let Mr. Weasley hear you laughing about that mind, they've probably lost fingers," said Harry shaking his head but grinning at Ron's amusement.

"Yeah, but it isn't anything that can't be fixed is it," snickered Ron as he rounded the corner and disappeared leaving Harry quite alone with his thoughts.

About an hour later a resigned Harry Potter was making his way down a corridor it seemed he had traveled a thousand times before. Granted he'd only really traveled down this corridor once, and back up it once but to Harry he knew the walk better thatn the back of his hand.

You see, this corridor still on occasion haunted Harry's dreams. Not as often or as frequent as it used to, but there was still the odd night here or there where Harry Potter would still wake up in a cold sweat his hand reaching out, trying but never succeeding in catching the man with the long dark hair, a slight grin etched upon his unmoving face forever. Almost as if the dream was presenting itself in real life, Harry started. He thought he had seen a glimmer of a tail or the hint of a menacing red eye peeking at him form the dark shadows of the green marbled hallway. Harry stopped, looked around and then giggled to himself. "I'm going bonkers. Nothing is down here. It's just a stupid hallway ending in a stupid door. I'll get through this and be done." Harry shook himself and continued down the hallway.

Making it to the door Harry opened it and leaving it open he walked to the door directly across from it. He'd had too much experience with being closed in this room of spinning doors. He was determined to get if right this time.

Entering the room with the dancing lights on the wall, he walked past the glittering bell jar with the ever living bird as it cycled through its ever repeating life. Harry took note of the newly replenished stock of time-turners. Harry grinned remembering the cabinet smashing itself and rebuilding itself over and over again. It seemed to be bolted down now and Harry wouldn't be surprised if it was by more than the obliviously physical means, maybe even a permanent sticking charm to the ground along with the bolts. If must be somewhat time-consuming to reproduce such a large stock of time-turners. Harry grinned to himself at this own pun on the words.

Looking around some more Harry took stock of the numbers clocks of all shapes and sizes lining the walls and their mechanical melody of ticks some faster and some slower creating a kind of glittery mechanical prison of time.

Crossing to the door on the other side of the room Harry went straight into the hall of prophesy. Gone was the cathedral sized room of old filled with towering shelves of glass spheres. Instead, the Cathedral sized room had had a sort of upgrade in security. The floor was lined with steel cased trunks, each it seemed holding its own glass orb with a series of heavy locks. Each lock had its own set of numerals and places to stick a key and the very center lock on each case was adorned with ancient runes around the rim with a funny little dial shaped like a trident in the center. To top it off there was a strong sense of magic in the air around the cases. Harry didn't take another step into the room sensing that if he did so, alarms would start blaring in every direction. To test his theory Harry took out his wand.

"Munitio Revelio," muttered. Harry. To Harry's utter shock and amazement the room revealed defenses that Harry would have never guess would be there. There were crisscrossing lines of red lights hanging low over the cases, just above light blue domes that covered each case individually. And to top it off, there was a sinister purple mist that floated in the air above the crisscrossing lines waiting it seemed, to drop down and administer something deadly to anyone foolish enough to attempt to break in to any of the cases.

Harry couldn't imagine why the ministry would spend so much on defending prophesies that could protect themselves. As far as Harry knew prophesies had defenses that only allowed the person or persons to whom the prophesy referred, to remove it from its resting place. But then again, a group of teenagers did break in along with a couple of lethal death eaters, that together nearly demolished the hall of prophesy along with half of the department of mysteries in the fight that ensued. Harry wondered whether there was a back up copy of all these new prophesies seeing as about 22 years ago nearly every prophesy in existence had been smashed. With the new security measures however, it might not be necessary.

Harry heard footsteps coming from his left. A squat little man with big horn rimmed glasses and a short rectangular beard hanging from his square jaw was hurrying towards him along the patch of wall on the edge of the room in which no magic was present. There seemed to be some sort of shimmering wall between the protected prophesies and the walk way along the edges of the room wrapping around as far as Harry could see.

"Ah! Mr. Potter! Come right over here to my office please," he called to Harry in a squeaky little voice. Harry walked toward him along the walk way, following him down the row to a small office inset in the wall that Harry hadn't noticed before.

"If you'll have a seat I'll get out the paper work," said the little man now trying to reach a crate of papers precariously set on top of a file cabinet bigger than him. Harry took pity and reached the crate for him with ease. Harry wasn't the tallest person in the world, in fact he was rather short in an average sort of way but he was by far taller than this squat little man.

"Thank you Mr. Potter," said the little man reaching to take the crate from Harry. "I've had rather a time of it in this cramped space. I've had to stack papers higher than I can reach them just to have room to walk. I suppose I could use magic to cleanup a bit, but I'm afraid if I did I would never be able to find what I was looking for even with an accio charm. Well, where are my manners, do have seat."

The little man set the heavy crated onto still more papers on his desk and offered Harry a seat in the squat and squishing armchair covered in newspaper clipping situated in front of his desk. Harry moved a few clippings to the side and seated himself on the edge so as not to disturb the controlled chaos in the little man's office.

After a few minutes of silence while the little man was searching through the crate Harry said aloud, "I take it you are Mr. Burns?"

"Oooo yes!" squealed Mr. Burns, looking up from his thorough search of the crate, "so silly of me, can't believe I didn't already introduce myself. I don't get a lot of visitors down here you see. We don't usually inform most people of their prophesies because we don't always know who they are about until it's too late you see. Mr. Benjamin Burns, Unspeakable for the department of mysteries but let's not stand on formality Mr. Potter you can call me Ben or Benji, or even Button if you like Mr. Potter!"

Harry smiled at him thinking to himself, 'you can call me Fluffy in you like, just get on with it.' "Um… of Mr. Bur….I mean Ben. If we could just uh…get to it I do have a pile of papers on my desk calling my name," Harry said with the most gracious tone he could muster.

"Oh, yes Mr. Potter!" squeaked Ben. Ben plunged into the crate of papers again not coming up for air again until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a scroll of old yellowing parchment. Harry could tell it was old by the frayed edges. The paper gave off an odd scent oak wood freshly chopped and Harry was taken aback by it. The paper also gave off the sense of a strong magical enchantment. Being an auror for some time Harry had a sense of when magic was in the air and things that may appear to the untrained eye harmless, yet housed spells and enchantments that could be sinister or not so depending on the case.

"If you could just sign here Mr. Potter," said Ben handing him the parchment along with a rather sad looking quill he'd pulled out moments before from inside a drawer crammed with broken ink bottles and other assorted magical office supplies, some of which trying desperately to escape the confines of the cramped prison of a drawer when Ben opened it.

Harry looked at the paper warily and did not take it. Instead looking up a Ben he asked, "What exactly am I supposed to be signing?"

"Oh goodness me, I'm all a dither today it seems. I've forgotten to read you your PISA rights."

"Sorry, my what rights?" asked Harry feeling slightly wary and confused.

"Your PISA rights Mr. Potter, the Prophesy Inspection and Subject Agreement, declaration of rights. It's just a formality, of course, but it must be followed to the T." Ben said taking the parchment and unrolling it.

Harry was utterly bewildered and slightly wary of Mr. Burns's sanity. This little man had a mind split into five different directions and it didn't seem as though he knew what he was doing at all.

Ben cleared his throat and began to read from the parchment:

"The Prophesy Inspection and Subject Agreement

The Pledge of the Forsworn

I, the forsworn protector of all future records of Historical circumstances, swear by decree of the Ministry of Magic to only present and inform the subjects of a prophesy to the existence of the before mentioned prophesy.

I, the foreworn, swear to stand guard over the Hall of prophesy and all it contains until such time as I resign from the post or die in some fashion or other.

Declaration of Rights

You, the subject of prophesy, swear to only seek your own future in the hall of prophesy and no one else less you seek a most terrible end.

You, the subject of prophesy, here by have the right to visit the prophesy under supervision of a forsworn protector of the Hall of prophesy whenever you choose between reasonably legal hours.

You, the subject of prophesy, have the right to privacy with your prophesy and may share its contents with whomever you please as long as it does not harm other individuals, animals, magical creatures, or co-subjects mentioned in the afore mentioned prophesy.

Amendment: If for some reason the nature of the prophesy is harmful to a co-subject, the subject will not be allowed to share the prophesy outside the knowledge of the co-subjects of the prophesy unless it comes down to a matter of life or death between the co-subjects and the contents must be shared in order to protect a life.

By signing this agreement, the signer aggress to the rules and regulations to the rights of the prophesy.

You have been read your rights, (insert subject name here), 'um…excuse me' You have been read your rights Mr. Harry James Potter, do you agree to the terms and conditions of the PISA?"

"Uh…yes I do," said Harry somewhat nervously.

"Then sign here, initial here and date there," said Ben. Harry did as he was told, signing his name under the numerous people before him who had agreed to the PISA. Mr. Burns took the parchment, rolled it up and dropped it back in the crate.

"Well, Mr. Potter, now that that's settled we'll go see your prophesy now." Mr. Burns said jumping up a little and making for the door of the office.

Mr. Burns was at the door with his hand on the handle when Harry said, "Hang on."

"Yes Mr. Potter?" questioned Ben. Harry looked at him with his nerves tightening into a ball in his stomach. He was two seconds away from hearing a prophesy that may change his life again and he couldn't bring himself to go any further than the cramped office. "Uh…," stammered Harry, "Nothing, let's go." With that Harry followed Mr. Burns out of the office and back into the cathedral sized room, the hall of prophesy.

Are you curious about what the prophesy is going to say? So am I! Lol. Give me some feedback.