Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Chapter One: Dursley Days

It was one o'clock in the morning and Harry Potter was still awake. It was one of those rare summer nights when the sky was perfectly cloud-free, the stars shone brightly and the air was still and crisp. There was just one thing disturbing the peace – the ear-splitting snores curtsey of Vernon and Dudley Dursley.

It was very unfortunate for Harry that his bedroom was situated between his Uncle's and cousin's rooms. The snoring was literally coming in stereo and Harry furtively tried to ignore it. How his aunt ever got any sleep was a complete mystery to him when combined the two men in her life managed to create a continuous noise that Harry was certain could drown out the sound of a loud sawmill if tried. It really was a wonder the neighbours never complained.

Cursing the Decree that prevented underage witches and wizards from performing magic outside of school, Harry (rather unsuccessfully) tried to block out the annoying sound and concentrate his attention back to the book in front of him. Ever since the tragic Triwizard Tournament had ended just months before and the Dark Lord – Voldemort - had managed to yet again return to some sort of human form, Harry had desperately been reading up on advanced spells and hexes. He'd spent the last three weeks cooped up in his bedroom, reading through almost as many books as Hermione did in about a week, something that in Harry opinion was nothing short of a small achievement.

He lifted a hand to his forehead and ran a finger over his lightning bolt scar, a souvenir left upon him after he at the age of one had survived Lord Voldemort's attempt to kill him. He was famous throughout the whole wizarding community for being "The boy who lived"; the one who had stripped Voldemort of his powers, bringing peace and harmony after many horrible years of terror and death.

Before Harry at the age of 11 had learned that he in fact was a wizard and that he was to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he had lived a loveless life with his Aunt and Uncle here in number four Privet Drive. During these years Voldemort had never tried to kill him. But that had quickly changed as soon as he'd left for Hogwarts. Now Harry was soon to start his fifth year at the Wizarding School, and it was in his own opinion nothing short of a miracle that he was still alive to see his fifteenth birthday. Ever since he started school the Dark Lord had made several attempts to kill him, and Harry was certain that this year wouldn't be any different. And that was why he was reading up on defence spells. He desperately needed to be prepared.

In just two days Harry would turn fifteen. He was quite looking forward d to it actually, not that he expected to be thrown a big party or anything by the Dursleys, but it usually meant letters and gifts from his friends from Hogwarts. This was a most welcome break to the boring and lonely life in Privet Drive during the summer months.

Harry smiled as he thought of his two best friends, Hermione and Ron. He had already received a large pile of letters from both of them, and so far the letters had pretty much boiled down to one specific topic – Viktor Krum. Or Vicky, as Ron liked to call him (when he wasn't referring to him using terms like "insufferable git").

Ever since Ron had learned that Hermione in fact was planning to take Viktor up on his offer to visit him in Bulgaria, he had totally lost his temper and the last few weeks had been spent writing both her and Harry lengthy letters speaking his mind. Hermione was of course not taking Ron's tirades lightly and answered his letters back in a just as violent way. At this point their friendship seemed to have hit rock bottom and neither appeared particularly eager to make any kind of peace.

Personally Harry had his own suspicions as to why the two was acting like this. So far he hadn't said anything about this, but had made a mental note to confront them if the bickering per mail didn't end soon. But up till now their little row had been quite amusing. Their last two letters had reached new heights of verbal bashing, although Harry suspected neither Ron nor Hermione saw the humour in it at this point.

Harry yawned and decided it was time to get some sleep. Aunt Petunia would most certainly wake him up in the wee hours to work in the garden. Uncle Vernon was planning a fancy barbeque for some of his most prominent business partners on Harry's birthday, and Aunt Petunia had been screaming orders to all of them over the weekend making even Dudley vacuum the hall and dust the shelves. Harry had never seen Dudley perform any kind of manual labour and it had actually been kind of entertaining. He had even heard uncle Vernon mutter something about Petunia being worse than his army drill instructor, and Harry had no trouble believing that. Aunt Petunia certainly wasn't one to cross when she was on a mission to make her house and garden perfect.

Two days later Harry woke up early. He turned over to see what time it was and winced. It felt like his every muscle was aching from having been forced to work long hours weeding and mowing the garden into perfection. The retched barbeque was tonight and he could all ready hear his aunt fussing about in the kitchen. The old alarm clock by the bed told him that it was only six thirty in the morning.

Harry had an uneasy feeling about having had a strange dream, but he couldn't quite remember what it was about. He was however prevented from further pondering about that as Hedwig, Pig and two other owls flew in through the open window. All owls dropped letters and small gifts on the bed in front of Harry and settled at Hedwig's cage drinking some water to recover from their journey. Even Pig seemed to be acting in an almost civilized manner Harry thought and wondered if the minute owl might be ill or something. Pig, which was short for Pigwidgeon, was Ron's owl, and he usually acted as if he was on a really bad sugar rush. Today however he was very quiet and Harry thought this made a pleasant change. That would at least make it easier to attach a return letter to him.

Harry picked up the first letter and immediately recognized his godfather's handwriting. The letter read;

Dear Harry

Happy birthday! I can hardly believe you are turning 15 today. I wish I could have been there to celebrate with you. Hope you like the present I got you, I wanted to get you something more but it is difficult finding reliable owls where I am now. I don't want to alarm you, but I believe it is only fair to warn you about the things that are happening throughout the country and the continent. There has been a noticeable increase in the activity of Death Eaters lately. The Dark mark has been spotted three times the last two weeks and at two of the houses ministry officials found that the death eaters had left casualties behind. Moony and I am now trying to recruit people to go undercover in the death eater community in hope of getting information about Voldemort's whereabouts and plans. Do not worry about us, we are extremely careful. I trust you to keep this information to yourself (although I assume you will tell Ron and Hermione). I also repeat my instructions for you to contact Dumbledore if anything out of the ordinary should occur or your scar hurts again.

Moony also sends his regards.

Lots of love Snuffles

Harry had suspected that Sirius and Professor Lupin were working for Dumbledore against the Dark Lord and wasn't surprised that this was confirmed. He was however more concerned to hear that wizards had been killed and the dark mark spotted. This seemed to be happening very fast, Harry thought. He also felt a wave of guilt and his stomach suddenly turned into a tight knot. All this would not had happen if it weren't for him. It was because of him that Voldemort had gotten his body back and was now obviously strong enough to command death eaters to once again perform horrible acts on his behalf.

Harry picked up the gift from Sirius and unwrapped it quickly. It contained a book about blocking spells (Sirius obviously knew Harry was trying hard to learn more of those) and a little wooden box, which Harry soon to his joy realized contained a golden snitch. Harry was the seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and having his own golden snitch was just perfect, as he now would be able to practice catching it whenever he wanted, and wouldn't be contingent on the school snitch being available.

He continued to open his gifts and soon found himself the proud owner of a yet another book ("National Quidditch teams", 1995 season") from Ron, Chocolate frogs and a jumper from Hermione, a large chocolate cake from Mrs. Weasley and from Hagrid a miniature figure of a giant (which Harry privately found to be quite a paradox). He was currently on a mission from Dumbledore trying to persuade the giants to unite against the dark lord, Harry knew.

There also was two new letters from Ron and Hermione. Harry opened the letter from Ron first, anxious to catch the latest update on his quarrel with Hermione.

Hello Harry,

Happy birthday, mate!!! Hope you enjoy the book I bought you (I sure did, couldn't help reading a bit of it before I wrapped it, hope you don't mind (sorry about the cocoa stain on page 37. Such a terrible pity it happened to soil the lovely picture of Vicky fucking Krum, though...)). How is life at the Dursleys?? Hope it isn't too terrible. Mum says to ask if you would like to come and stay the last week before school start. You can't come sooner I'm afraid, as we will have relatives staying here for the next couple of weeks.

I'm currently considering whether or not I should ask Hermione to come as well. She is probably way to busy writing love letters to that stupid boyfriend (manfriend more like it, he hardly qualifies as a boy that old git) of hers to bother with us. I still can't believe she'll betray us like that. Talk about sleeping with the enemy (not literally I hope – ehuuwww just the mental image of that makes me nauseous, I totally ruined my appetite now). I off course told her so in my last letter, and somehow I don't think she agrees with me as I got a particularly nasty Howler in return. How she managed to pull that off without being busted for doing magic outside of school is beyond me. Well anyway, I didn't quite make it out of the kitchen before Hermione's voice exploded filling the entire house with her shrill screeching and it was totally embarrassing I can tell you. Mum was really livid because I'd managed to infuriate one of my friends like that and made me clean out the attic as punishment.

That still was nothing compared to the constant teasing I've had to endure from Fred and George after the incident. I won't even tell you what silly things they are saying about me (and Hermione) Frankly I never think I have ever heard more ludicrous statements in my life (and that is saying a lot, considering we have so many classes with the Slytherins).

However revenge is sweet. I owled Hermione one of the twins' latest inventions (a chocolate heart, which explodes when you try to bite through it leaving your teeth blue for several days. Wonder what her dentist parents will think of that).

Well that is all for now. Owl me to tell whether you will be coming to stay or not. Enjoy your birthday; keep me posted if anything unusual happens (you know; hurting scars, flying cars, weird house elves, stray black dogs etc)

Ron

PS!!! Would only like to state for the record that I think Vicky Krum is a pathetic, arrogant, fucking bastard, a son of a bitch and extremely bad at Quidditch!

PPS! Ginny says to say happy birthday too.

Harry laughed into his pillow (he didn't want to let aunt Petunia know he was awake yet) and quickly opened Hermione's letter to hear the other side of the story.

Dearest Harry

Happy 15th birthday!!

I simply hate the fact that we never get to celebrate it together, but I suppose coming to visit you at your aunt and uncle's house would be totally out of the question. I am currently in Bulgaria with my parents visiting Viktor. I really like it here, it is actually quite different from how I imagined it, and I have learned a lot about the Bulgarian wizard history and customs. Thank you so much for your last letter, by the way. It was so nice reading some friendly words for a change, as Ron still hasn't stopped badgering me. Owls turn up almost daily (where does he get all the owls from I wonder, Pig has reached me twice, all the others where not known to me) containing nothing but insults. You won't believe what he actually accused me of the other day: Sleeping with Viktor!!! Where ever did he get that idea?? I have never even kissed the guy, seeing as we are only friends. Sometimes I wonder what Ron's scull is made off, as it seems nothing is getting through to him. Would you please try to talk some sense into him??

Well after that particularly offensive last letter, I figured he deserved a proper scolding and so I sent him a well deserved Howler. When I got a return owl I first thought that the Howler had done the trick, because he sent me a chocolate heart, which I (stupidly) mistook for a peace offering. Well, let's just say my parents aren't too impressed with my dental situation at the moment (I am sure Ron will give you a detailed description of what I look like now. Let me just say that the twins are probably the geniuses behind the chocolate recipe)

We are returning to England in about a week. Has Ron invited you to stay at the Burrow yet? I haven't heard anything, all though he did promise we would get an invitation. Well the summer isn't over yet.

Hope you are all right. Promise to let me know if strange things happen. Give my love to Snuffles when you hear from him.

Love, Hermione

Harry shook his head and decided to write Ron a letter asking him to get a grip and ask Hermione to stay. This whole Viktor affair was now starting to get terribly out of hand.

He had just finished putting the letters and presents on his desk when aunt Petunias loud voice echoed up the stairs. Harry yelled back that he was coming, dressed quickly and headed down to the kitchen without any hope of the Dursleys remembering his birthday. He was off course correct on that assumption.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The day turned out quite similar to what hell must be like, Harry concluded as he found himself high up on a ladder, washing the attic window on the side of the house facing away from the garden. Why he was doing this was still a mystery to him, as he very much doubted any of the guests would even consider going over to inspect this side and certainly not the attic windows. But out of fear for his own health he didn't dare tell his aunt Petunia this.

After he had finished washing, uncle Vernon hurried him inside to get changed. Harry was in fact going to attend the barbeque but only as a waiter of course. He had gotten strict guidelines of how to conduct his every move, and he had a sneaking suspicion that this easily could turn out a complete nightmare. His cousin was currently walking around the living room humming the tune from Sesame Street (which was secretly his favourite TV show). Dudley looked particularly whaley today in his casual garden- wear. The look was supposed to say "high class sporty teenager", but as nothing about Dudley's appearance could be associated with "sporty" (he was as close to a square as you can get, being almost as wide as he was tall) he looked rather pathetic. Uncle Vernon had a similar outfit and aunt Petunia had put on her best summer dress. They were now pacing around the hall waiting for their guests yelling last minute orders and instructions at Harry.

Finally the guests arrived and the party actually seemed to go rather well. Uncle Vernon told a dirty joke that made all the men laugh (all though their wives didn't seem to find it especially amusing) and Harry could see he was very happy. "Maybe this won't be a disaster after all", Harry thought. So far they hadn't had anything to complain about.

But obviously something had to happen. The doorbell rang from inside the house and both his aunt and uncle looked up anxiously. They weren't expecting anybody else. Aunt Petunia hurried inside and moments later Harry heard her cry out, a door slammed and someone obviously came running through the house.

Harry looked up towards the house and there, wearing black robes, a wizard hat and with her wand in one hand was – Hermione!

To be continued...