Full Summary:
Harry approaches his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with NEWT exams, Quidditch and yet another new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher all adding up to just another year of magical education. With the imminent war veiling every horizon, Harry begins to focus at last as the time for him to complete the Prophecy draws ever closer. New friends and old enemies start to show their true colours as allegiances are lost as fast as new ones can be forged. At the root of it all, however, Voldemort has his own plans which he intends to carry out and this time it appears that nothing and no one can stop him.
A/N: Please note, this story is the sequel to 'Harry Potter and the Darkest Hour', so I would suggest you read that one first or this one won't make sense. However, this tale will also be running on from the Half-Blood Prince at the same time so I suppose it could also be viewed as a stand-alone sequel to HBP as well... The first two chapters were written pre HBP but all the later chapters will be HBP complient - just give them time! I hope that all made sense and I really hope you'll enjoy what is to come.
In the chapters that are to follow, I hope you will like what has come to be both a blessing and a curse to me over the last few months. As always, comments are welcome as onyl through them can a write improve - oh, plus I make no secret of the fact that I'm a review addict - rest assured that I read every single one of them:)
Have fun,
Stormy x
A warm breeze blew through the trees, lifting a few old leaves and scattering them hither and thither over Privet Drive. As the sun began to set it cast a furnace glow over the area as bats to appear; their ultrasonic cries barely audible as they located moths and insects. Nothing moved on Privet Drive; all it's inhabitants either away on holiday or lurking inside out of the mosquito thick air. A strong smell of cut grass lingered and the distinctive smell wafted into the houses through the ajar windows and patio doors. The inhabitants of Number 4 were in the lounge watching the nine o'clock news on their new television. Natalie Graham, the BBC's main reporter, was relaying the news to an audience of millions.
"… and the Metropolitan Police have cordoned off the area. In a statement released an hour ago by the chief officer in charge, Constable Richard Jones, has made clear that there have been two deaths at this house although the cause of death remains undisclosed. Forensic experts are currently scouring the area and a thirty six year old man has been arrested on suspicion of murder and is currently being questioned by police…" "Serves him right," Vernon Dursley growled. "Probably a drunkard. Better off left to rot in some jail."
Petunia Dursley nodded sharply, her thin face twisted in distain. Unusually, her bony hands twisted uncomfortably in her lap and she looked over at a skinny, black haired boy in the corner of the room who was watching the news as if his life depended on it.
"Or," Vernon continued nastily as he looked over at his nephew while completely unaware of his wife's discomfort, "if it's one of them, they deserved it anyway, so let the guy who killed them walk free. He deserves a medal."
Harry Potter, the teenager in question, didn't answer as his uncle continued to insult him. Over the past week and a half, Vernon's snide remarks had become progressively wilder and Harry had learnt to tune out the sound of his voice; it just made life easier.
"… just so long as it is nothing to do with that nutter; what's his name, Petunia? Vosemart? Valleford? Voldiford...?"
"Voldemort," Harry supplied tonelessly and Petunia paled slightly, pursing her lips together.
"Yes, him. The man who killed your par-" Banbury. That's near Oxford, Harry thought just as he felt a heavy weight dropped into his stomach. That's barely fifty miles away from here… Harry shut his eyes briefly before standing up and walking upstairs, ignoring the Dursleys completely. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realise Aunt Petunia was watching him go, an odd expression darkening her face. Vernon Dursley continued ranting while Dudley just stayed engrossed in his Game Boy.
"Vernon! The window!"
Harry switched off again, trying desperately to catch the last of the report over the Dursleys' mutterings and Dudley's new Game Boy; a gift from his parents for gaining a grade 'G' in maths. The Muggle news was his only source of real news; the Daily Prophet was just full of stories about how Fudge was, unbelievably, still trying to hold on to his job as Minister for Magic.
"… and this is Natalie Graham, reporting for BBC News from Banbury, Oxon."
Once in the safety of his room, Harry flopped down onto his bed, his mind reeling. It had been nearly three months since his kidnapping of the year before but the pain he felt as he thought of it was still fresh and sharp. Harry shut his eyes, clenching his fist in a combination of both fear and pain. It had taken his body a long time to recover for the torment inflicted on him by the Death Eaters. His muscles still often contacted painfully as they went into spasm, a direct after effect of the Cruciatus curse, although these aches were mercifully stating to lessen in both frequency and intensity.
If it hadn't been for the Order, things would have been even worse…
Dumbledore's resistance to Voldemort, in the form of the Order of the Phoenix, had followed him to Azkaban in a desperate attempt to rescue him. Of the thirty four who had left, seven of them did not return and a further twenty one were hurt, their wounds varying from minor scratches and bruises to grievous, life threatening injuries.
The worst of the injuries was taken by Snape, Harry thought grimly. Merlin, he's lucky to even be alive.
Harry stared out of his window lost in thought, the top of the Rowan tree in Number 9's garden just visible.
And talk of the Devil…
A tall, almost weedy looking Eagle owl flew in through Harry's window, its dark brown feathers having a slightly greasy sheen to them. Hedwig, sitting on top of Harry's wardrobe, clicked her beak in annoyance. The Eagle owl ignored her completely and instead just fixed Harry with a cold, dark eyed stare. Harry pulled the letter off the owl and looked at it in slightly uneasy amusement.
"I do know where you learnt that stare from, you know," Harry said to the owl, which hooted in indignation. Harry smiled slightly and ripped open the parchment envelope.
He and the Potions Master had reached an awkward truce at the end of the year before and Snape's final comment to him was the guarded possibility of giving him information on what Voldemort was doing. Over their forced month together in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, they both had found that they had reached an understanding of the other, albeit a strained one. The mutual respect between them had meant Harry felt at last able to reveal the contents of the Prophecy to someone less close to him than either the Weasleys or Hermione. You requested at the end of last term that I informed you of what was taking place in the Wizarding world and I am not one to break my promises. So far, I have not made contact with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord has not summoned me to him. Azkaban is still under the control of the Death Eaters and all the captured followers who were originally in Azkaban have been released the Dark Lord. The Vote of No Confidence is set to take place any day now. The murders of the two people in Oxford were caused by Death Eaters and the man who has been arrested was Alfred Walsham; Alastor Moody caught him. I am similar to when you left me although others may claim otherwise. Ignore them. I remain on the same side as when you left me and nothing will ever change that. I promise you, one day this will be over and you will have your revenge and I will have mine. He will pay. Dearly. This letter contains a charm which will cause it to catch fire if anyone else touches it but even so, I suggest you keep it away from prying eyes. Prof. S. Snape For some reason, Harry wasn't in the least bit comforted by Snape's letter. The idea of Snape wanting revenge unnerved him and what exactly did he mean by 'others may claim otherwise'? Harry shuddered as he thought back to Snape's role in the events of last term. It was apparent from Snape's slightly shaken writing that he wasn't completely healed from his brutal injuries of the year before and Harry was concerned, not least because Snape had said to ignore what other people said about him.
Still, Harry thought, smiling humourlessly. Who will believe I've revealed the contents to Snape first?
Even now, Harry still felt the occasional feeling of unease; Snape was Voldemort's right hand man and the Dark Lord's most trusted servant. Harry smirked bitterly as he thought of the wizard he was destined to kill; Voldemort was still heartily convinced Snape was a spy.
He's right, Harry realised suddenly in bone chilling realisation. His only problem is he doesn't know Snape's a spy working against him, rather than for him…
Back in April, however, Voldemort had called together Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy to inform them there was a spy in his ranks and given Snape the task of the discovering his betrayer's identity. Harry wouldn't easily forget the look on Snape's face after he had told Harry about Voldemort's discovery of a traitor during a Potions class the year before. Harry felt a wave of trepidation as he read Snape's letter.
Dear Potter,
Harry fell back onto his pillow, the letter held firmly in his hand. '… There's nothing to say, really. I hope you're doing OK and having a nice time at the moment with your aunt and uncle…" Harry snorted in grim amusement. 'A nice time'?! The day he had a nice time while at Privet Drive was the day Voldemort walked up to Albus Dumbledore and gave him a hug and a chocolate bar. Without killing him.
What was going to happen now? Harry mused desperately. With Snape out of action, the Order has lost their spy so Voldemort's got the advantage for the moment…
Over the week and a half he had been at the Dursleys', Harry had received a couple of letters each from his best friends. Hermione was away on holiday with her parents in Crete and from what Harry could gather from her long letters, she was having a fantastic trip. Ron and Ginny had also written to him and, from what Harry could interpret from their vague letters, they hadn't even got the faintest idea of what was going on with the Order of the Phoenix.
'…Everything's the same for us as it was last summer…'
Tiredly, Harry allowed his thoughts to drift back to his last meeting with Ginny and he smiled broadly. At Kings Cross, barely two weeks previously, she had given him a kiss and got him to promise that he wouldn't 'eye up' any other females while she was away. Remus Lupin. Harry grinned in spite of his melancholy musings. If the Order were coming the week before his birthday, he only had another thirty two hours to wait before he could leave Privet Drive forever!
Ginny... She really is special…
To Harry, the youngest Weasley was the only person with whom he could actually forget about Voldemort or, if their conversation drifted towards the Darkness, could laugh him off with a joke. Harry looked at the floor, his mind wandering inevitably, as it had done every day of the holidays, towards Voldemort.
When is anything going to happen? What is he planning? How much longer must I wait…?
Harry looked up as a second owl flew in through the window. The unfamiliar, greyish, plain looking owl flew directly onto his shoulder and held out its leg, inviting Harry to take the note coiled round there.
5:30am, a week before you first met Hagrid.
Harry fell back onto his pillows as the owl took off and he closed his eyes, a small smile lighting up his face as he slept peacefully. As the silent watches of the moon drifted across the sky, Harry was blissfully unaware that he was heading straight into the worst day at Privet Drive he had ever had.
About seventy miles away, someone did know what would be befalling Privet Drive and he rested his long, white fingers together as a cruel smirk twisted his lipless mouth. He nodded dismissingly at the nearest Death Eater who bowed and retreated without a word. Voldemort drew out his wand and twirled it slowly in his hand, his red eyes gleaming in anticipation.
He had been too quiet for too long; it was time that Harry woke up to the true realities of war.
A/N : Ok, not the longest chapter in the world but I hope you liked it all the same. Many thanks to those of you who have stayed with this right through to the sequel and I hope you'll like what's coming.
As always, reviews are loved and thanks to those of you who do:)
Stormy x