Harry Potter and the...
Chapter One: Godric's Hollow
An adolescent at the age of seventeen stared very hard and very long at two graves standing side by side. The grey tombstones seemed old, but looked fresher than opposing graves, dating to about 15 years ago. On the graves the names were engraved:
James Christian Potter
1959-1981
Caring Father
Loving Husband
Brilliant Son
Lillian Rose Evans-Potter
1959-1981
Compassionate Mother
Devoted Wife
Wonderful Daughter
The teenager read every word carefully, taking every letter and syllable in. Tears leaked out of his emerald orbs as he squatted in between the two patches of dirt. He quickly wiped his tears away on the back of his hand, as the cold wind ruffled his jet-black hair, reminding him so painfully of his late father.
A few minutes later, he let out a low sigh and slowly turned his back on the pair of tombstones. With one backward glance, Harry Potter shuffled down a faint path, hands stuffed in his pockets, kicking up dust with every step he took.
"I'm done," said Harry quietly to a lone figure. They stood not too far from where the senior Potter graves were. His companion, who had rather bushy, brunette hair nodded.
"Erm, Harry?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "There's a local wizarding pub not a quarter's hour away from here… We might be able to collect some information about You—i Voldemort/i there… You know, gossiping and such…" Hermione's voice trailed away as she looked timidly at her troubled friend.
"Yeah, sure," Harry responded, who looked as though as if he hadn't hear a word Hermione had said.
"Alright then," Hermione said, with the same look. She beckoned Harry for him to follow her, and she led Harry through a maze of houses and buildings until they came to a halt in front of a miniature pub Muggles passed by, oblivious to the tiny door in between two large department stores.
As Hermione was about to squeeze through the tiny door, she looked around and said exasperatedly, "Not the cloak again Harry!"
A bodiless voice retorted, "I just don't want people gawking at me… and what if there are death eaters in there?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend's paranoid antics, but entered the crowded and noisy pub all the same.
They found a seat a few minutes later as they were held up by a man who had suspiciously asked Hermione a few awkward questions after bumping into Harry.
"What do you want?" Hermione asked over the chatter of a couple of witches in the passing booth.
"Firewhiskey," Harry answered routinely. He had taken a resort to drinking alcohol ever since he had become of age.
Hermione got up from her seat while shooting him a nasty look. "You know drinking won't solve--"
"Just get it," Harry cut her off irritably.
Hermione looked offended and as though as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it and stalked off to get the pair's drinks.
Harry sighed, laved his head down on the table, and closed his eyes wearily. His mind drifted off.
He had had a horrible summer so far.
First off, Harry had gone to Privet Drive No. 4, which wasn't so bad, apart from the murderous glances and continuous throat-clearing. In fact, it was virtually wonderful compared to the Burrow.
After a week, Hermione had apparated to Privet Drive to take him on side-along apparition.
Harry stayed at the Burrow for about a month, where he along with Ron passed their apparition test, had an uncomfortably awkward silence between him and Ginny, and visited a hospitalized Charlie. ("Order business, now get the cutlery ready.")
Then the wedding had taken to order. It was disastrous, and was just as fatal.
A few Death Eaters had spotted a couple of witches and wizards chatting about a wedding confirming that the Weasleys' lived around there.
Now, the Weasleys and the human Delacours were both blood traitors thus Voldemort's Motley Crew had taken to try and destroy the last of them (Hence, Charlie's injuries.).
So naturally, Voldemort had set a dozen (or two) of them out to kill anyone attending the wedding.
iFleur and Bill were blissfully exchanging vows and tears of joy were dripping from Fleur's eyes occasionally.
Beside Harry sat Hermione, who only clapped once or twice during the entire ceremony (Ginny was a flower girl).
But as the content pair turned to walk down the aisle, a borrowed tiara glittering in the sun, Fleur uttered a little scream and Bill's eyes widened in shock.
"No!" Fleur gasped just as a tall, hooded black figure stunned her. It hit her directly in the face and Bill barely caught her before she fell.
Then it was a rush of panic.
Harry tried to run the opposite direction of the frightened, screaming people, but it was no ado. Finally, it cliqued. He apparated into the middle of the garden; Order members and others were fighting the Death Eaters.
Lupin was dueling Bellatrix, anger and hate etched in every line of his face.
Bellatrix sneered. "You're pathetic werewolf, but with a bit of right training, you could easily join the Dark and of course, winning side."
As a response, Remus cut open her wand shoulder and growled. Bellatrix screamed in pain. Apparently she was in a great of deal pain. Nevertheless, Bellatrix laughed delusionally and repeated, "I tell you wolf, you'd make a good asset to my master.
Remus snarled back, "I would rather die than join you."
"Then prepare to do so," Bellatrix smiled maliciously. She raised her wand to finish the lycan off.
"AVADA—"
She fell forward, hitting the ground with a thud.
In the few precious seconds Bellatrix had give Harry by using Legilimancy on Remus, he had done the Avada.
"Harry did you just—" Lupin asked weakly, but Harry cut him off.
"C'mon, we have more to do than just stand here."
Harry wheeled around and started to duel another Death Eater; he had no regrets or even thoughts of Bellatrix Lestrange.
A half hour later, most of the Order members were down, but the light side was still winning. Harry was fighting a remaining Death Eater; the massive blond he had oh-so pleasantly met a few weeks back. The creature (as Harry suspected was half-troll) had nearly stepped on Harry, so he hastily stumbled back. Following that, Harry got hit by a disarming spell.
In all the time Harry was retrieving his wand, the blond lumbered over to an unconscious redhead, held on tight and—
"Ginny!" Harry screamed. "GINNY!"
The Death Eater sneered and disapparated.
Later, those Harry though dead were merely unconscious. Charlie (who recently was discharged from the hospital), Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Tonks, Kingsley, and Ron were all struck down. Ron seemed to be in a muggle 'coma,' but the others were up in the next few days.
Ginny had been taken, just as Fleur and her younger sister had—/i
"Harry, wake up. Harry!" Hermione said urgently, shaking him. The said wizard's invisibility cloak had slipped off of him, explaining the suspicious glares headed toward the duo.
But apparently, the witches had not noticed Harry and were still gabbing and arguing away. Hermione silenced Harry with a sideways glance and gestured for him to listen.
"Oh yes, didja hear about old Dumbly?" a smoking witch whispered excitedly (Harry's stomach clenched.).
"No!" her friends exclaimed, leaning forward in ecstasy.
"Well, they say he's dead!" the witch grinned as the others took in the information (Apparently news didn't travel very quickly in these areas; Dumbledore had been dead for about 2 months.)
"Albus? No!"
"I don't believe it."
"I always though he was an old fool."
Three of the four ladies looked astonished as they whispered, "What 'chu say Emmy?"
"I-I," Emmy stuttered. "I-I-I… w-well, old Dumbly was never fond of me. So ya can't blame me for not liking him!"
A blond with slanting, hazel eyes snapped, "Oh sure, and 'ow do we know you ain't lying?"
"Oh, do shut up Jane," her friend nudged.
Jane grunted and slouch in her seat.
"And some even say Snape killed him!" the smoking girl resumed.
"Snape? That greasy boy in my ho- year?" Emmy asked.
Jane cast her a suspicious look but kept her mouth shut.
"Yeah," answered the smoking woman. She too, gave Emmy and odd look.
"Why so quiet Nat?" Jane said gruffly.
"I just realized… that's explains those tall hooded figures… Death Eaters! Of course… My, my, in Godric's Hollow too!" Nat mused (Harry choked on his Firewhiskey.). "They muttered about themselves, talkin' 'bout protecting a ihors devours/i!"
Harry sat rigid in his seat, his eyes wide. Did this mean… A horcruxe in Godric's Hollow?
"Harry!" Hermione said meaningfully. He nodded to let her know he understood. Harry turned to start listening again, but when he looked, Jane was staring right at him. Apparently Hermione had said his name too loud. But then, Harry found the lady's eyes horribly familiar, almost like—
Harry's eyes averted from Jane's face to see her friends had turned to see what all the commotion was about. Nat's orbs took in Harry's scar, eyes, and lastly his hair to know enough.
"Lookit everyone! Harry Potter's in our little pub!"
The bar went quiet. Then—
"Oh Mr. Potter, you look so much like James!"
"No, he's got Lily's eyes, he does!"
"And he's inherited his granddaddy's nose!"
"Predictable, just like any Potter."
"Looks exactly like the father."
"'Cept for the eyes!"
"Every damn generation."
"Yeah, well damned or not, this kid's leaving," a gruff voice said.
Harry gave a start as an old lady grabbed both he and Hermione and dragged them outside.
However, before any people got out after them, the bulky figure apparated them to a dark alleyway.
The alleyway smelled musty and rotten as the trio landed on a pile of what looked like a skeleton of a dog.
Hermione gave a little shriek and jumped off of the bone remains. Harry hastily side-stepped it, while the figure of a lady merely stepped off.
Harry looked up.
He was stunned to see the face of Jane peering at him.
"Who the hell are you and what do you want?" Harry finally snapped warily.
Jane looked surprised and replied, "Well that's no way to greet your grandmother Harry."