A/N: Hi there! This is my first HP fic, so please R&R! I won't update until
I have at least five reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own ANY Harry Potter stuff! Don't sue me! The only things that are mine are the new characters and most of the plot.
Harry Potter and The Daughter of Voldemort
Chapter One: Off To the Burrow
Harry sat sullenly by his window, looking down onto the street of Privet Drive. The pavement was awash with yellow light, shining from the lamp-posts that littered the sidewalk. One flickered, then went out, and Harry sighed, running a finger slowly along the lightning scar on his forehead. Glancing sideways, he read the clock on his desk.
1:05 am
Harry's heart beat a little faster. He had been fiffteen for five minutes. He smiled. This was pretty much how he had spent his last few birthdays. Sitting on his bed, in the dead of night, looking at the clock and realising that he was another year older. Nothing was much different.
Hedwig hooted softly in her cage, as if to say ''Happy Birthday''. Clicking her beak a few times, she lowered her head beneath a wing and fell back into slumber.
'Well.' Harry whispered 'At least she remembered.'
Stepping away from the window, Harry kneeled down and released a floorboard from it's place, groping around in the darkness for his broom. Cold wood brushed Harry's fingertips, and he smiled, pulling it out of the hiding place. Holding it tenderly, as if it might shatter in his grasp, he gazed at it, the name "Firebolt " glinting in the moonlight along the golden handle.
He'd won many a Quidditch match on his faithfull broom, and he treasured it like it was a mountain of Galleons(Which, it pretty much was). It was the best there was, top design in every country.
A sly smile spread across Harry's face.
"It wouldn't hurt." he whispered, looking behind him through the open window and into the sky, dark couds obscuring the moon. "No one will notice if I go high enough."
Drawing back the curtains a little further, Harry climbed onto the sill. His stomach dropped a little at the height he'd only now noticed, and he swayed slightly. Gulping, he mounted the Firebolt and kicked off.
The night's cool, crisp air swept past Harry in a flury of rushing wind, blowing his already unkempt hair. Heart swelling, he fought back the urge to whoop with delight. He could only imagine Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's faces if they were woken in the dead of night to see him soaring through the air on his broom.
In the Dursley household, anything, and everything that had the slightest bit to do with magic, whatever form, was about as welcome as bird droppings. So of course, Harry was constantly trampled on by his Aunt and Uncle, whenever something terrible happened. Somehow, no matter what the situation, the blame always fell on him.
Although, much to Harry's sheer delight, over the past two years, things had begun to change. During his third year at Hogwarts, he had discovered that the escaped murderer Sirus Black was his godfather. But, Harry Ron, Hermione and Headmaster Dumbledore knew very well that he was completely innocent, even if he was still regarded as an escaped criminal in hiding. After meeting Uncle Vernon in the train station, Harry had not skipped the details.
Now, every time (almost) Harry got in trouble or what-not, he could always depend on the fact that both the Dursley's feared him writing to Sirus and telling him that he was being mistreated. They virtually trembled over the thought of Sirus coming to Privet Drive and turning them into frogs (or in Aunt Petunia's mind, killing them on the spot).
Breathing deeply, Harry soared into the clouds and out of sight of prying eyes. If he was spotted by a Muggle(non-Magic people), there would defenitely be trouble.
Diving and turning, swooshing and speeding through the clouds, Harry flew until he thought he would drop. Even Quidditch practice didn't compare. Looking at his watch, Harry gasped. It was almost seven o'clock. "What?!" he shrieked, eyes wide. It had seemed like barely half an hour, and yet it was almost time for him to be waking up. Cursing under his breath for not realising the steady increase in light, Harry gathered his bearings for the quick dive into his window. By now, many inhabitants of Privet Drive would be waking, drawing back their curtains and peering nosily into their neighbors backyards like always ( especially Aunt Petunia ). If he didn't do it quickly, someone would see him.
But that wasn't the worst of it. Diving quickly throught he window and into his small bedroom, wouldn't give him enough time to pull up and slow down. If Harry went too fast, he would crash, and a giant thud coming from Harry's room was exactly something the Dursley's didn't notice. But if he went too slow, he would be spotted most defenitely. The inhabitants of Privet Drive all seemed to have beady eyes, and too much nosy-ness for their own good. If he was spotted, and someone reported it, not only the Muggle news, but the Ministry of Magic would be all over it.
Over the course of Harry's life, he had gotten into many scrapes with the Ministry, and luckily so far, the punishments hadn't been too bad, or he hadn't been punished at all. Getting in trouble again, Harry couldn't depend on Cornelius Fudge-the Head of the Ministry- to get him out of it.
"Geez!" Harry moaned, running over his options quickly "I shouldn't have gone out in the first place! If only I could Apparate..."
But even if he did know how to Apparate, Harry could just imagine Hermione's reaction when he told her( "Harry I don't believe you did something so stupid and risky!.....)
There was no other option but to just dive and get it over with.
Shifting his weight on the Firebolt, he readied himself to go. Biting his lip, Harry tightened his grip, feeling as though his stomach was nothing more than a dark pit, he almost went for it.
But he didn't, as he realised there was another way out.
It was only one week before it was time to go back to Hogwarts. Maybe, he could just get his things from the Dursley's with a Summoning Charm and fly to the Weasley's! Harry knew his friend Ron would be more than happy to accomidate him.
But the dark pit returned. Harry wasn't a full blown wizard yet, he was still underage. Using magic outisde of school as stictly forbidden by the Ministry of Magic.
And yet, was that worse? Being seen on a broomstick would cause much more of a stir, than if someone spotted a wizzing blur out of the corner of their eye. His stuff would go very fast, and hopefully no one would see it properly. Harry would have to take the risk of using magic, there was no other way out.
Luckily, he had his wand with him, stored safely in his jeans pocket. Harry had decided that he would take it everywhere with him now. Like Professor Moody said 'Constant vigilance!'. Drawing it slowly, he said quietly, "Accio school-books!"
Eyes on the thick cloud below him, Harry waited, until all his school books came zooming towards him, bursting into view. Harry caught them, the force almost knocking him off his broom.
After a few minutes of desparately trying to balance all of them on his left arm, he waved his wand again "Accio school bag! "
It came much quicker, but Harry was ready. In one quick motion, he grabbed it in mid flight and tossed the heavy books inside. Swinging it over his shoulder, he said the charm over and over again until, everything he needed was strapped onto the Firebolt and ready to go-Hedwig with much difficulty. It took Harry almost fiffteen minutes to calm her down enough to strap her on too.
With all the extra weight(especially his trunk, even after he bewitched it to be considerably lighter), Harry bobbed and swayed, and he found it very hard to stay in the air. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too hard to fly.
Breathing deeply, Harry kicked the Firebolt into action, skimming over the still heavy black clouds. Above him, the sun beat relentlessly on Harry's back, causing him to sweat a great deal, and he was very tired, after spending almost the whole night flying about.
The trip was exhausting, and by noon, the clouds were almost gone, so Harry had to dawn on his Invisibility Cloak, which added to his swealtering discomfort. Harry was looking forward to a cold glass of pumpkin juice when he reached the Weasley's. Mrs. Weasley loved him like her own son, and fretted whenever he was unhappy. Surely she would be in disaray when she discovered he had flown the whole way.
Peering into the distance, Harry caught sight of a small town, nestled in the shadow of a giant hill a few miles away. Harry groaned with relief, seeing the Weasley's small home beyond the town, closer to the hill. Smoke was rising from the chimney, a good sign they were there.
Harry urged him broom on, wishing it faster.
Finally, he slowed, descending from the sky to a halt outisde their front door.
Harry felt exhausted, as he dropped his stuff at his side. He swayed on his feet for a moment, then collapsed, falling asleep right away.
*
Harry awoke screaming, clutching his scar, the white hot pain slashing across his forehead relentlessly. Sweat poured down his pale, clammy face as he shook underneath the covers of the spare bed in what he now realised was Ron's room.
Harry's heart sunk.
He couldn't believe it was happening again. The dreams were back after such a peacefull summer.
He had been standing in the room again, listening to Voldemort talking to Wormtail as if he wasn't even there. The giant snake, Nagini as Voldemort called it, continued to sleep, unperterbed by his presence. The Death Eaters were perched around Wormtail and Voldemort, listening intently to their conversation.
They were having the same conversation, about killing him, except Voldemort had a tone of such hatred that Harry felt his own face loose it's colour at his words. The only difference, was that Wormtail kept interupting, squeeking " But my Lordship- don't fret, n-now that you killed the Diggory boy, e-everyone will fear you again-" only to be interupted by Voldemort breaking into even more rage.
It was so strange, to hear them talk without them knowing it. But before Voldemort could say anything of importance, like what his next move was or where he was hiding, Harry woke.
Now he was sitting in Ron's room, the headache slowly fading, hearing what he thought was probably Mrs. Weasley running up the creaking stairway to his aid.
His suspicsions were affirmed, when Mrs. Weasley burst into the room, and embracing him tightly.
"Harry!" she cired "Are you ok?! What happened?!...."
Harry pushed her away.
"I'm fine." he said, trying to sound convincing "It was just a nightmare."
At his last words, Mr.Weasley appeared in the doorway, looking more tired and bedraggled than ever. "Molly." he said firmly, grasping her arm "Let him breathe."
Mrs. Weasley bit her lip, but didn't make any move to embrace him again.
"Do you want some breakfast dear?" she asked quietly, "You had a long trip yesterday. I was so worried when we found you outside. I thought, I thought you had crashed. I was so worried...."
"I am kind of hungry." Harry replied, before she could continue, "Where's Ron?"
Mrs. Weasley looked a little suprised, but then bustled away, leaving Mr. Weasley alone.
"Come on Harry, breakfast is waiting." he said dully, then dissapeared from view, his footsteps creaking down the stairs.
As Harry clammered out of bed, he had the gut wrenching feeling that he shouldn't have come at all.
TBC.....
Disclaimer: I don't own ANY Harry Potter stuff! Don't sue me! The only things that are mine are the new characters and most of the plot.
Harry Potter and The Daughter of Voldemort
Chapter One: Off To the Burrow
Harry sat sullenly by his window, looking down onto the street of Privet Drive. The pavement was awash with yellow light, shining from the lamp-posts that littered the sidewalk. One flickered, then went out, and Harry sighed, running a finger slowly along the lightning scar on his forehead. Glancing sideways, he read the clock on his desk.
1:05 am
Harry's heart beat a little faster. He had been fiffteen for five minutes. He smiled. This was pretty much how he had spent his last few birthdays. Sitting on his bed, in the dead of night, looking at the clock and realising that he was another year older. Nothing was much different.
Hedwig hooted softly in her cage, as if to say ''Happy Birthday''. Clicking her beak a few times, she lowered her head beneath a wing and fell back into slumber.
'Well.' Harry whispered 'At least she remembered.'
Stepping away from the window, Harry kneeled down and released a floorboard from it's place, groping around in the darkness for his broom. Cold wood brushed Harry's fingertips, and he smiled, pulling it out of the hiding place. Holding it tenderly, as if it might shatter in his grasp, he gazed at it, the name "Firebolt " glinting in the moonlight along the golden handle.
He'd won many a Quidditch match on his faithfull broom, and he treasured it like it was a mountain of Galleons(Which, it pretty much was). It was the best there was, top design in every country.
A sly smile spread across Harry's face.
"It wouldn't hurt." he whispered, looking behind him through the open window and into the sky, dark couds obscuring the moon. "No one will notice if I go high enough."
Drawing back the curtains a little further, Harry climbed onto the sill. His stomach dropped a little at the height he'd only now noticed, and he swayed slightly. Gulping, he mounted the Firebolt and kicked off.
The night's cool, crisp air swept past Harry in a flury of rushing wind, blowing his already unkempt hair. Heart swelling, he fought back the urge to whoop with delight. He could only imagine Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's faces if they were woken in the dead of night to see him soaring through the air on his broom.
In the Dursley household, anything, and everything that had the slightest bit to do with magic, whatever form, was about as welcome as bird droppings. So of course, Harry was constantly trampled on by his Aunt and Uncle, whenever something terrible happened. Somehow, no matter what the situation, the blame always fell on him.
Although, much to Harry's sheer delight, over the past two years, things had begun to change. During his third year at Hogwarts, he had discovered that the escaped murderer Sirus Black was his godfather. But, Harry Ron, Hermione and Headmaster Dumbledore knew very well that he was completely innocent, even if he was still regarded as an escaped criminal in hiding. After meeting Uncle Vernon in the train station, Harry had not skipped the details.
Now, every time (almost) Harry got in trouble or what-not, he could always depend on the fact that both the Dursley's feared him writing to Sirus and telling him that he was being mistreated. They virtually trembled over the thought of Sirus coming to Privet Drive and turning them into frogs (or in Aunt Petunia's mind, killing them on the spot).
Breathing deeply, Harry soared into the clouds and out of sight of prying eyes. If he was spotted by a Muggle(non-Magic people), there would defenitely be trouble.
Diving and turning, swooshing and speeding through the clouds, Harry flew until he thought he would drop. Even Quidditch practice didn't compare. Looking at his watch, Harry gasped. It was almost seven o'clock. "What?!" he shrieked, eyes wide. It had seemed like barely half an hour, and yet it was almost time for him to be waking up. Cursing under his breath for not realising the steady increase in light, Harry gathered his bearings for the quick dive into his window. By now, many inhabitants of Privet Drive would be waking, drawing back their curtains and peering nosily into their neighbors backyards like always ( especially Aunt Petunia ). If he didn't do it quickly, someone would see him.
But that wasn't the worst of it. Diving quickly throught he window and into his small bedroom, wouldn't give him enough time to pull up and slow down. If Harry went too fast, he would crash, and a giant thud coming from Harry's room was exactly something the Dursley's didn't notice. But if he went too slow, he would be spotted most defenitely. The inhabitants of Privet Drive all seemed to have beady eyes, and too much nosy-ness for their own good. If he was spotted, and someone reported it, not only the Muggle news, but the Ministry of Magic would be all over it.
Over the course of Harry's life, he had gotten into many scrapes with the Ministry, and luckily so far, the punishments hadn't been too bad, or he hadn't been punished at all. Getting in trouble again, Harry couldn't depend on Cornelius Fudge-the Head of the Ministry- to get him out of it.
"Geez!" Harry moaned, running over his options quickly "I shouldn't have gone out in the first place! If only I could Apparate..."
But even if he did know how to Apparate, Harry could just imagine Hermione's reaction when he told her( "Harry I don't believe you did something so stupid and risky!.....)
There was no other option but to just dive and get it over with.
Shifting his weight on the Firebolt, he readied himself to go. Biting his lip, Harry tightened his grip, feeling as though his stomach was nothing more than a dark pit, he almost went for it.
But he didn't, as he realised there was another way out.
It was only one week before it was time to go back to Hogwarts. Maybe, he could just get his things from the Dursley's with a Summoning Charm and fly to the Weasley's! Harry knew his friend Ron would be more than happy to accomidate him.
But the dark pit returned. Harry wasn't a full blown wizard yet, he was still underage. Using magic outisde of school as stictly forbidden by the Ministry of Magic.
And yet, was that worse? Being seen on a broomstick would cause much more of a stir, than if someone spotted a wizzing blur out of the corner of their eye. His stuff would go very fast, and hopefully no one would see it properly. Harry would have to take the risk of using magic, there was no other way out.
Luckily, he had his wand with him, stored safely in his jeans pocket. Harry had decided that he would take it everywhere with him now. Like Professor Moody said 'Constant vigilance!'. Drawing it slowly, he said quietly, "Accio school-books!"
Eyes on the thick cloud below him, Harry waited, until all his school books came zooming towards him, bursting into view. Harry caught them, the force almost knocking him off his broom.
After a few minutes of desparately trying to balance all of them on his left arm, he waved his wand again "Accio school bag! "
It came much quicker, but Harry was ready. In one quick motion, he grabbed it in mid flight and tossed the heavy books inside. Swinging it over his shoulder, he said the charm over and over again until, everything he needed was strapped onto the Firebolt and ready to go-Hedwig with much difficulty. It took Harry almost fiffteen minutes to calm her down enough to strap her on too.
With all the extra weight(especially his trunk, even after he bewitched it to be considerably lighter), Harry bobbed and swayed, and he found it very hard to stay in the air. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too hard to fly.
Breathing deeply, Harry kicked the Firebolt into action, skimming over the still heavy black clouds. Above him, the sun beat relentlessly on Harry's back, causing him to sweat a great deal, and he was very tired, after spending almost the whole night flying about.
The trip was exhausting, and by noon, the clouds were almost gone, so Harry had to dawn on his Invisibility Cloak, which added to his swealtering discomfort. Harry was looking forward to a cold glass of pumpkin juice when he reached the Weasley's. Mrs. Weasley loved him like her own son, and fretted whenever he was unhappy. Surely she would be in disaray when she discovered he had flown the whole way.
Peering into the distance, Harry caught sight of a small town, nestled in the shadow of a giant hill a few miles away. Harry groaned with relief, seeing the Weasley's small home beyond the town, closer to the hill. Smoke was rising from the chimney, a good sign they were there.
Harry urged him broom on, wishing it faster.
Finally, he slowed, descending from the sky to a halt outisde their front door.
Harry felt exhausted, as he dropped his stuff at his side. He swayed on his feet for a moment, then collapsed, falling asleep right away.
*
Harry awoke screaming, clutching his scar, the white hot pain slashing across his forehead relentlessly. Sweat poured down his pale, clammy face as he shook underneath the covers of the spare bed in what he now realised was Ron's room.
Harry's heart sunk.
He couldn't believe it was happening again. The dreams were back after such a peacefull summer.
He had been standing in the room again, listening to Voldemort talking to Wormtail as if he wasn't even there. The giant snake, Nagini as Voldemort called it, continued to sleep, unperterbed by his presence. The Death Eaters were perched around Wormtail and Voldemort, listening intently to their conversation.
They were having the same conversation, about killing him, except Voldemort had a tone of such hatred that Harry felt his own face loose it's colour at his words. The only difference, was that Wormtail kept interupting, squeeking " But my Lordship- don't fret, n-now that you killed the Diggory boy, e-everyone will fear you again-" only to be interupted by Voldemort breaking into even more rage.
It was so strange, to hear them talk without them knowing it. But before Voldemort could say anything of importance, like what his next move was or where he was hiding, Harry woke.
Now he was sitting in Ron's room, the headache slowly fading, hearing what he thought was probably Mrs. Weasley running up the creaking stairway to his aid.
His suspicsions were affirmed, when Mrs. Weasley burst into the room, and embracing him tightly.
"Harry!" she cired "Are you ok?! What happened?!...."
Harry pushed her away.
"I'm fine." he said, trying to sound convincing "It was just a nightmare."
At his last words, Mr.Weasley appeared in the doorway, looking more tired and bedraggled than ever. "Molly." he said firmly, grasping her arm "Let him breathe."
Mrs. Weasley bit her lip, but didn't make any move to embrace him again.
"Do you want some breakfast dear?" she asked quietly, "You had a long trip yesterday. I was so worried when we found you outside. I thought, I thought you had crashed. I was so worried...."
"I am kind of hungry." Harry replied, before she could continue, "Where's Ron?"
Mrs. Weasley looked a little suprised, but then bustled away, leaving Mr. Weasley alone.
"Come on Harry, breakfast is waiting." he said dully, then dissapeared from view, his footsteps creaking down the stairs.
As Harry clammered out of bed, he had the gut wrenching feeling that he shouldn't have come at all.
TBC.....