Harry Potter and the Medallion of Atlantis

Chapter 1

"Think about what you're saying, Salazar.  Excluding muggleborns?" said a man that looked like Harry, but much older.

"Muggles can't possibly understand our world.  Those mudbloods will be the death of us all..." said Slytherin. 

"What difference is there between a muggleborn and a pureblood anyway, besides the obvious?  Muggleborns are by no means inferior to purebloods in magical skill.  Can't you see beyond who their parents are and consider them as wizards and witches on their on account?"

"I knew you were growing soft, Godric, always helping those dirty muggles.  We have to protect what is ours.  If we let those muggles in, soon the muggles will control us.  Think of your children, Godric, do you really want them being controlled by a lot of mudbloods?"

"That's where you and I differ, Salazar.  All you can see is genetics.  So what if their parents are muggles.  Are they not as magical as the rest of us?  I would rather have my children live like muggles than in a world surrounded by bigotry.  You cannot win, Salazar, both Rowena and Helga will support me."

"Then I must take my own path.  I leave you now, but one day, there shall be no mudbloods in our world.  Mark my words!"

Slytherin, with a sweep of his cloak, disapparated in a blaze of green fire. 

 "So much hate…"

Harry woke with a start.  This was the third time in a week that he had these dreams.  They weren't like the dreams he had the previous year.  His scar did not hurt.  Yet, he could not help but wonder what was causing these strange dreams. 

Harry looked about the room.  Strewn throughout the room were broken TVs, playstations, and various other toys.  The walls were also plastered with endless images of Dudley.  There was a baby picture, a picture of Dudley taking his first steps, and a picture of Dudley getting ready for his first day of school.  Harry could not help but wonder whether there was a real person under that spoiled shell.

The boy in that room, Harry Potter, was no ordinary boy.  He became the only person ever to survive the Killing Curse, from the dark wizard Voldemort, at that.  Yet, that day he lost that which mattered to him more than anything else did: his parents.  Harry was sent to live with his aunt and uncle, who sounded like they could have very well lived in Salem a few centuries ago. 

Harry thought about the events of the past year, about the Triwizard Tournament, about his best friends Hermione and Ron, and of Cedric Diggory.  He could not stop thinking of Cedric Diggory.  No matter how many people told him that Cedric's death was not his fault, it seemed that everyone was convinced except Harry.  

For a while, Harry tried to forget that it ever happened, but he could not.  Everywhere he looked, he saw the face of Cedric Diggory when Voldemort's curse had hit him.  For three weeks, Harry cried himself to sleep every night.  He was desperate for anything to take his mind off the Triwizard Tournament and its terrible ending. 

Harry tried to get to sleep again, but after an hour, he knew that any slumber would elude him that night.  Therefore, he pulled out his bright crimson jumper that had the letter "H" written across the front and decided to work on his homework.  The professors, in an attempt to prepare them for the OWLs, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, had each given them a plethora of homework.  Snape's homework had been especially vicious.  Harry had been working on it since he arrived back in Surrey, and had only just finished it. 

Harry put down his quill and thought about the year that had gone by.  Besides Diggory's death, there had been one thing that had been consuming him all summer: the kiss that Hermione had given him on platform 9¾.  At the time, Harry had been utterly confused.  And he still was.  From some people, an occasional kiss was nothing to ponder, really.  Fleur had kissed him on the cheek, and he had thought nothing of it.  But this was Hermione, his best friend.  He thought back, and he could not remember Hermione kissing anyone, not even Krum, until that day on platform 9¾.  To top it off, she had seemed incredibly nervous.  He hadn't realized it at the time, but she had run off after the kiss, looking incredibly embarrassed. 

Could it be that she had feelings for him?  No, Harry thought, it couldn't be.  She's happily dating Krum right now.  Besides, Harry wondered, what would Hermione see in him?  Unlike all the other girls, Hermione never tried to get close to Harry because he was the Boy Who Lived.  No, it was just a friendly thing to do, Harry thought.  He decided to put that out of his mind and start on his History of Magic essay. 

"Discuss the role of muggleborns in modern society and difficulties throughout history that they have faced."  After reading this prompt, Harry's thoughts immediately went back to Hermione.  Harry wondered why there was so much hate in some people.  Hermione was the prime example of a muggleborn who was by no means inferior to anyone of pure blood.  Indeed, she was at the top of their class.  Harry wondered why people like Draco and Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort, and Slytherin hated muggleborns so much…

Harry shook his head.  Why did his thoughts go back to Hermione every two minutes?  It was as if his brain cells were magnetically pulled toward Hermione.  Then again he thought, those thoughts did keep his thoughts away from...from Diggory.  It hurt him to think of Diggory.  Thoughts of Hermione had a very different quality to them.  They brought about a certain serenity to his thoughts.  They made him feel…happy, happier than he had been in his entire life.  Happier than when he won Quidditch games, happier than when he survived an encounter with Voldemort.  No, those thoughts gave him only an empty, ephemeral satisfaction.  When he thought of Hermione, he felt like everything was right in his world. 

It's just because Hermione is one of my best friends, thought Harry, thinking of Ron and everyone else at Hogwarts, well, except the Slytherins, of course, could made him feel the same way.  Harry had convinced himself, but in the deepest recesses of his heart, he knew that he was lying to himself. 

Harry snapped himself out of his quasi-trance and pulled out his new Arithmancy book, deciding that he would work on his essay later.  He wondered why he had continued taking Divination has long as he had.  He didn't think he could stand being told how he was going to die again.  If all of Trelawney's predictions had been accurate, Harry would have had to have died and been reincarnated a hundred times by now.  When Harry had decided what class to take in lieu of Divination, it had only taken half a second for him to decide.  He would take Arithmancy instead, which Hermione, his other best friend, was taking.  Since Harry had not taken Arithmancy before, he had a lot to learn during the summer.  What Harry would have given for Hermione to be there to teach him…

With those thoughts, Harry's exhaustion finally caught up with him and he fell asleep, clutching his Arithmancy book, as if fearing that he would lose it. 

....

When Harry awoke, he looked sleepily at the clock.  It was already eleven thirty.  Harry wondered why the Dursleys had not woken him to make him make them breakfast.  Usually, Harry had to make the Dursleys breakfast, while receiving nothing but leftovers for his own breakfast.  Harry lazily got out of bed, pausing a moment a remembering that he was already wearing a jumper, before pulling out an old pair of jeans that Dudley had once owned.  Harry laughed when he noticed that the waist was about fifteen inches too large for him.  Harry wished that he were allowed to use magic so that he could cast a shrinking charm on the jeans. 

Harry looked again at the jeans and blinked.  He was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  The jeans were now perfectly sized for Harry, so he put them on.  Harry was surprised that he was able to perform such a charm without a wand.  True, he had performed wandless magic before.  Harry remembered with a laugh what had happened to Aunt Marge.  This, however, was different.  Harry was not in any extreme emotional state.  He was neither excited nor angry.  In addition, this use of magic was much more focused than any of his previous experiences had been.  Harry decided to ask Hermione about it later.  Knowing how many books she had read, Harry was sure that she knew. 

Then Harry remembered something very important.  He wasn't allowed to perform magic outside of school!  Harry panicked.  He was sure that the Ministry would be swooping down on him any instant, expelling him from Hogwarts.  Harry froze.  Five minutes and then ten minutes passed.  Interesting, Harry thought, they must not be able to detect wandless magic very well.

Harry walked to his door, and tried to open it.  It was locked.  How thoughtless, Harry thought.  He recalled how the Dursleys had put bars on his windows during his second year.  Suddenly, Harry had a thought.  He raised his hand to the door, and called out, "Alohomora!"  Harry gasped when he heard the locks in the door click and the door pop open. 

Harry walked down the stairs and paused when he saw a note on the dining room table:

Harry Potter:

We've had enough of you this summer.  We've all gone on a cruise to Jamaica to get away from the likes of you!  We decided not to tell you so you couldn't ruin our trip with your weirdness.  Mrs. Figg has somehow agreed to take you for the rest of the summer.  What would possess someone to put up with you I have no idea.  Those cats must be getting to her sanity.  God knows you'll only make it worse.  Oh well, that's none of my concern.  She'll be here to pick you up at noon.  Get all of your ruddy stuff out of our house and stay away until next summer!

Uncle Vernon

Harry was ecstatic.  He could spend the rest of the summer without the Dursleys.  He looked at the clock.  It was 11:59.  A moment later, he heard the ring of the doorbell.  He opened the door with a start.  It was not Mrs. Figg standing at the Dursleys' door. 

It was none other than Cho Chang.  "H-hi," Harry squeaked. 

"Hello Harry," beamed Cho. 

"So, what brings you here?"

"I'm staying with my aunt and she told me to fetch you," said Cho matter-of-factly, "Plus, who wouldn't want to visit the great Harry potter?" Cho chided.

Harry turned a most fetching shade of crimson.  He turned his head in an effort to hide this from Cho.  "Right.  S-so, uuh, I-I'll just g-get my stuff fr-from up-upstairs and I'll b-be right b-back, OK?" Harry stuttered.

"My, my, what a great Quirrell impression.  Will do," Cho chortled.

Harry went upstairs and grabbed his trunk.  Here was his chance, Harry thought.   Harry remembered the most embarrassing crush that he had on Cho the previous year.  Here he had his chance with Cho.  Somehow, however, it did not seem as enticing as it had during his fourth year.  Harry wondered why.  He decided he would think about it later, and proceeded downstairs with the trunk. 

Cho smiled when she saw him coming down the stairs.  "Here, let me help you carry that trunk of yours.  It looks quite heavy," offered Cho.

"Hold on, I have an idea," Harry responded.  Harry held his hand above the trunk and said with a strong voice, "Wingardium leviosa."  Cho gasped when the trunk hovered about three inches off the ground. 

"How did you…" said Cho with shock.

"I really don't know.  I had to use Alohomora to open my door this morning since the Dursleys forgot to unlock my door."  Harry said nonchalantly.

"Wow…that's, like, so awesome!" Cho said with glee.

"Come on, lets go," Harry said, interrupting her trance.  She nodded and they walked out the Dursleys' door.  I won't have to go in there for another year, Harry thought. 

They walked in silence for two blocks.  Harry jumped when Cho asked, "Harry, you do know who Mrs. Figg really is, don't you?" 

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.  Suddenly it came to him.  He remembered Dumbledore's words: "You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher - the old crowd."  "Of course!" Harry exclaimed, "Arabella Figg!" 

"Yes, that's right, Mrs. Figg is really Arabella Figg," Cho said absently.

Harry walked up to the door and rang the doorbell.  After a few moments, a dignified looking woman of about sixty opened the door.  She had short grey hair pulled into a bun and was wearing a simple flower-print dress.  "Hello, Harry," Mrs. Figg said with a smile.

She glanced at his trunk.  "What are you two up to? You aren't allowed to do magic outside of school!" Mrs. Figg exclaimed. 

"Relax, Aunt Arabella, no one will find out.  Harry did it without a wand," Cho responded.

"Without a wand!?  But, but, there are only a handful of wizards alive who can do that!   Do come in, Harry, this is most interesting news," Mrs. Figg exclaimed excitedly. 

Harry nodded, and pulled his trunk in the door, with Cho close behind him. 

"Well, I want to see you end that levitation charm without using a wand," Mrs. Figg said with anticipation.

Harry complied, putting his hand above the trunk, and said, "Finite Incantatem."  The trunk landed on the carpet with a soft thud. 

"Fascinating!" Mrs. Figg said with awe, "I really must tell Albus about this.  He and the rest of the Order will be most pleased." 

Before Harry could ask her what the Order was, Mrs. Figg walked briskly to the fireplace, took a handful of floo powder, shouting, "Albus Dumbledore!" as she threw the floo powder into the fireplace.  When the flames cleared, Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace, wearing a hat studded with stars and crescents. 

"Cho, dear, if you'll excuse us," Mrs. Figg said apologetically.

"No problem," Cho responded, "I have some potions homework to work on anyway."  She blew Harry a kiss as she turned around and walked away, making Harry blush.

"It seems Miss Chang has taken a liking to you, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled. 

"Uh, y-yes, it would appear to be so," Harry responded, his cheek redder than his Quidditch uniform.

"Ah, I see.  Follow your heart's truest desire, Harry." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, "Well anyway, back to business.  What is it, Arabella?" Dumbledore said calmly. 

That man must have some sort of ESP, Harry thought.

"I think it would be easier to show you than to tell you.  Harry," said Mrs. Figg.

Harry nodded, and raised his hand.  He saw a copy of Most Potente Potions lying on the table, and said solidly, "Accio Most Potente Potions!"  The book flew off the table and landed squarely in his hand.

"Ah, most remarkable," Dumbledore said pensively, "it is as I expected then.  Harry, have you had any dreams lately?"

"Actually, I have.  Not like the ones I had last year, though.  My scar doesn't hurt when I wake up," Harry told Dumbledore.

"Are they about the founders?" asked Dumbledore. 

"Actually, they were.  The last one I had was an argument between Gryffindor and Slytherin over whether to allow muggleborn students," Harry said excitedly.

"Very interesting.  I want you to try one more thing.  Cast an engorgement charm on that book you are holding in your hand.  It proved most useful, no?"  Dumbledore said with a wink.

Harry goggled at Dumbledore with amazement.  He looked at the potions book, and said, "Engorgio."  The book grew about an inch, and stopped. 

"It is as I thought.  You need practice to make full use of your new abilities," said Dumbledore,"no matter, though."

"Professor, does this mean that I can use magic outside of school?" Harry asked gingerly.

"Of course not, Harry.  Though it would be quite beneficial for you to get some practice, and though no one will ever know, I would say that you should not," Dumbledore said.

Harry saw Dumbledore wink almost imperceptibly.  Harry was sure that, had he blinked, he would have missed it.  "Right, Professor," Harry responded.

"Enjoy your summer, Harry.  I shall see you when you return to Hogwarts, as I really must continue working on these plans," Dumbledore said with a slight smile, before disappearing from the dusty fireplace.

"Mrs. Figg, I thought that Hogwarts wasn't connected to the Floo Network," inquired Harry.

"It isn't, per se.  This house is connected to Hogwarts via a closed circuit Floo Network.  In addition, the apparition wards at Hogwarts allow only communication through the network, not actual travel.  Oh, excuse me, the garden really need a degnomeing," said Mrs. Figg before strolling into the garden.

"Cho? Where are you?"  Harry shouted, wanting to be shown where he was going to be staying.

"Upstairs, come on up," Cho responded.

Harry could have sworn that there was something different about the tone she used, but he decided that it was nothing.  Harry cast a quick Wingardium Leviosa on his trunk, and proceeded upstairs.  He walked up the stairs, paused a moment, considering which way to go.  He saw an open door to the right, so he walked in.  And there was Cho.

"Hey Harry.  Follow me.  I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Harry nodded, and followed Cho three doors to the left, where he saw a room with a large window that gave a wonderful view Mrs. Figg's superb garden.  Harry put his trunk in the corner, and noticed that Cho was standing in the doorway.

"Well anyway, I was wondering if you would come with me to see that new muggle movie that just came out.  We can go grab something to eat at that Italian restaurant," Cho said brightly.

"I-I don't know, Cho.  I, uh, have a lot of homework to do.  Yes, lots of homework," Harry said uneasily.  Harry wondered why he did not acquiesce to Cho's request.  He couldn't think of any other teenage boy who wouldn't have in his situation.  Yet, something felt wrong about the situation to Harry.  He wondered if Cho was another brown-haired girl he could have refused, or would have wanted to refuse.

"Oh, Harry.  You're such a gentleman.  Don't worry about me; I'm over Cedric's death.  You have to move on with your life, you know?"

"Herm–I-I can't go," said Harry.  Oh no, he thought, he had almost spoken Hermione's name.  Quickly, Harry ran back down the stairs, only just not knocking Cho down, wondering why he had been so immensely awkward, and why he had refused a date with Cho, which he would have given all his gold in Gringotts for the year before.

Just then, Harry heard an excited tapping on the window.  Harry peered out the window and saw a small, restless, owl tapping impatiently on the window.  Quickly, Harry opened the window and took the letter from an excited Pigwidgeon. 

Dear Harry:
           
            How's your summer going? I can't imagine you're enjoying yourself with those awful muggles.  Anyway, Mom and Dad are taking me, the twins, and Ginny to Atlantis with him.  Dad had to go there for work anyway, so he decided that we could all come along with him.  I heard they have all sorts of awesome stuff in Atlantis, like reusable parchment and self-inking quills that come in four colours each!  I'll be sure to pick up something for your birthday.  Anyways, congratulations on making prefect!  I just received my letter today, and both you and Hermione have been made prefects, in case you don't know yet.  Just don't take any points away from me, OK? 

Oh, and I have a little secret to share with you.  Remember when I told you that the Browns were going to visit us over the summer?  Well, Lavender and I went on a few dates in Ottery St. Catchpole, and I think I'm in love! Isn't that great?

Bye-

Ron

P.S. Don't tell anyone about Lavender and I yet, OK?  We're not sure when we want everyone to know yet.

Well, Harry thought, he truly was alone this summer, except for Cho.  Hermione was visiting Krum in Bulgaria and Ron was going to Atlantis.  At least he had his books, Harry thought.  Suddenly, it hit him.  That sounded exactly like something that only one person he knew would say.  Harry looked back, and realized that since had gotten off the Hogwarts Express, he had been studying and reading more and more.  Harry told himself that this was because he needed to be as well prepared for Voldemort when the time came as possible, but inside he knew why he was really doing it. 

            Harry had wondered what Hermione saw in him as a friend.  She was not blinded by Harry's fame, though Harry would have it no other way.  One might think that Harry's status as the Boy Who Lived might bring him more friends, but Harry thought that the opposite was true.  In fact, Harry realized, Hermione and Ron were the only two friends that he really had. 

            Harry had started studying incessantly to gain Hermione's respect.  I couldn't live without Hermione, thought Harry.  He recalled how he had felt when he learned that Hermione had been petrified in his second year.  Ron was devastated as well, it was true, but Harry felt like a stake had been driven straight into his heart.  Harry was determined not to lose her ever again. 

            The Triwizard Tournament brought Harry face to face with the spectre of death and loss.  While Harry had never admitted it to himself, his interest in Hermione was much more than a Platonic one.  Harry had started reading so much that rivalled Hermione herself for the most time spent reading. 

            Harry jumped when two more owls flew through Mrs. Figg's 19th century style windows.  One, a large barn owl, flew in, dropped a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest in Harry's waiting hands, before immediately departing.  The other, a snow white owl that looked much like Hedwig but was smaller, landed on Harry's shoulder and nibbled on his finger.  Harry took the letter from the owl, and saw Hermione's neat, flowing handwriting on the letter.  He opened it, and read:
           

            Dearest Harry,

How are you this summer?  I know if it were I who was stuck living with those dreadful relatives of yours, I'd be miserable.  I'm back home now, having returned from Bulgaria.  You should visit Bulgaria sometime; I visited the most exquisite castle I've ever seen, except for Hogwarts.  I even got to watch a Quidditch game.  Somehow I've never noticed how much fun it is watching Quidditch, probably since I'm usually worrying about you during Quidditch matches.  It seems like danger is never more than a step away on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.  Viktor even taught me how to fly properly this summer.  He said I was a natural, and that all I needed to do to reach my full potential was overcome my fear of heights. 

Anyways, both Viktor and I agreed to go our separate ways.  We both agreed that our relationship wasn't serious to begin with, that we both have too many things on our minds to have a relationship.  I know I do.  Ron told me about his trip to Atlantis.  I'm so jealous!  I've wanted to go there ever since I read about it in Wizarding Destinations: A Guide. 

Finally, I have a plan to get you away from the Dursleys from the rest of the summer.  I was going to invite Ron to my house as well, but obviously he can't come, since he's in Atlantis.  So I guess it'll just be us then.  Anyway, by the time you get this letter, a letter addressed to the Dursleys will have been mailed.  Our cover story is that my dad is Sirius Black's nephew, and that I'm your girlfriend, who will threaten to call Sirius Black if they don't let you come with us this summer.  Naturally, I've gotten Dumbledore's approval for the plan.  Dumbledore agreed, with more than a normal twinkle in his eye.  I wonder why…

Yours forever,

Mione

Harry knew there was something very different about Hermione's letter.  He thought about it for a while, and then, it hit him like a lightning bolt.  That was the first time Hermione had signed a letter anything except "Love from Hermione."  "Yours forever?" why would she use that closing line?  But the thing that really struck Harry was how she signed her name.  Mione.  As recently as last year, she had made it clear that she hated both the nicknames "Herm" and "Mione."  And yet, she had signed her letter "Mione."  Harry decided that all of this was just his imagination, and he remembered that his Hogwarts letter had arrived. 

Dear Mr. Potter,
           
It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been selected as a prefect for Gryffindor house.  Joining you in your Gryffindor prefect duties will be Miss Hermione Granger, whom you know very well, I'm sure.  The other prefects are:

Ravenclaw:
Mandy Brocklehurst

Terry Boot

Hufflepuff:
Hannah Abbott

Justin Finch-Fletchley

Slytherin:
Draco Malfoy

Blaise Zabini

Please tap this parchment with your wand to claim your prefect's badge.  Enclosed, as usual, is your list of required supplies.  In addition, the prefect's handbook is enclosed.  Again, tap it with your wand to make it normal size.  I recommend that you read it very carefully. 

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Harry might not have been excited as Percy had been, but he was quite excited.  Him, a prefect!  Quickly, Harry pulled out his wand and tapped the parchment and the miniature prefect's handbook with his wand.  Immediately, a shiny new prefect's badge appeared on top of the parchment and the handbook grew to be about eight inches wide and eleven inches tall.  Harry knew that this would be a great year, not the least of which because both he and Hermione were now prefects.

(A/N: Please Review!  This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction.  Please tell me what you think.  Chapter 2 will probably be done within 2 weeks.  Stay tuned for more details.)