Harry Potter and the Arrow of Light A Harry Potter Fanfiction By HPLuvr189



DISCLAIMER: This characters do not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling. All of them were made up by her, but the storyline was completely mine.



Chapters I. The Dream II. The Apparition III. Strange Ways IV. The Arrow of Light V. Journey to Hogwarts VI. Strange Ways Again VII. The Quiver VIII. The Story IX. The Capture X. Another Apparition XI. The End of Dark Days

Chapter One The Dream



It was a cloudy sky . . . dark, rumbling clouds. Lightning was flashing dangerously through the sky and it looked like a storm. There was soft, low, distinct laughter echoing in the field below the sky. An eerie presence was felt near him, a pang of pain was felt in his scar as the laughter grew louder. He looked around but saw nothing. The laughter was growing louder still. It sounded crazy, maniacal and quite familiar. A body was forming next to him, an indistinct outline of a thin, bony man, with unnaturally long fingers. 'The time has come, hand it over,' the form said. The boy looked at his hands and saw nothing, and had no idea of what this strange man was asking. There was a swoosh of wings with scarlet color as it flew by and another voice was heard, 'Hold on, Harry, dear. We will linger for only minutes.' Then another one, 'Do me a favor, Harry, take my body back to my parents.' Yet another, 'Hold on, your mother wants to see you.' Then a flash of green light flashed across the sky. Something caught the boy's eye. He looked up, and saw a parting in the sky. He saw the wonderful, blue sky above with the sun shining through . . . or was it sun? Something was hurtling toward the boy called Harry, something so fast it looked like it would burn a whole right through him. It was carrying a radiance and light of scarlet and gold. Catching speed, it landed right in Harry, and threw him on his back, knocking the wind out of him.

The boy called Harry Potter woke with a start, drenched in cold sweat, his heart beating a hundred times a minute. He put his hand to his heart, then to his lightning bolt scar, which was a souvenir of the man called Lord Voldemort, who had indeed killed his parents. That dream had many different memories, good and bad, and had many different things he wasn't sure what meant. The voices were remembrances of the night he won the Triwizard Tournament and was transferred to the graveyard, where Lord Voldemort and he had dueled, and had reconciled his parents and other victims, a night he had wished to forget. Yes, Lord Voldemort, You-Know-Who, to other members of the wizarding community, was a name many people still feared to speak. He was known as the greatest dark sorcerer of their time, who killed thousands and showed no remorse whatsoever. He was the reason that Harry's parents were not alive today and the reason he was famous in the wizarding world. On October 31st, the one year old baby had defeated the greatest dark sorcerer in the world. Voldemort had set a curse upon Harry but to only have it rebound on him, leaving him almost lifeless, a mere shadow of his former self . . . the former self he had worked so hard to prevent dying. He and Voldemort had met five times before, and not once had he succeeded in murdering Harry. Yes, this was Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts, a year that he was dreading. He did not want to leave Hogwarts . . . a place he had called home for the past six years, a place which remained the only place he felt loved and cared for. He had no idea what he was going to do in the future. He hadn't a clue what the future held in store for him. One thing he was sure of though, was that he planned to stay best friends with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, his best friends in the whole world. They were going to live on the same street. Ron and Hermione had been going out since fifth year and were quite ready to get married. Harry wondered when Ron was going to propose to her. But he hadn't anytime to think of romance right now, he had to think of the dream. He thought of writing to Sirius or Dumbledore, but didn't see what they could do. It was only a dream, and he'd been having a lot of dreams lately. All with the same kind of theme and the repetition was actually getting kind of old. Harry didn't worry much about it until now, but this had just been one time too many. He had to do something about it. He creeped around his room and found his quill and started to write to Ron. He knew he wouldn't laugh at him no matter what he said. He always gave excellent advice and obviously cared about Harry. He grabbed a piece of parchment and dipped his eagle feather quill into the ink bottle and began to write:



Dear Ron- Hey! I haven't talked to you all summer! I really am starting to dread going to school . . . I don't ever want to leave Hogwarts. Think of all the adventures we've had there . . . remember when we drank the Polyjuice Potion in second year? And the time we walked in on Hermione and Viktor kissing in fifth year? Oh sorry, that's probably not a good memory for you to remember. The best was when we walked in on Neville doing something well, let's just say it made us all go red in sixth year. Another good one was when we went to the Quidditch World Cup. We've had some good times, Ron . . . sorry, I don't mean to get all sentimental, but well, I'm jealous of you. You know exactly what you're going to do with your life. I have no clue what to do with mine. I'm sure I'll figure something out. But, to the point of my letter, I had this dream where You-Know-Who was there, and then I heard voices that were from the night the Cup transported me to the graveyard. Then the sky parts and this scarlet and gold thing comes hurtling at me at maximum speed and then it crashes right into me. I've had this dream several times before. Anything to say on that? Well, I won't say anymore here. Write back with Hedwig.

Bye- Harry

He tied a piece of paper around the parchment and went over to Hedwig's cage. She was sleeping soundly and Harry paid dearly for waking her up. She bit him several times and was almost too miffed to deliver his letter. Although she had never failed to deliver a message, as Harry reminded her of this, she reluctantly stuck out her small and scrawny leg. Hedwig was getting on in years. She was already two when he had bought her so she was about eight years old now. Harry had not the slightest idea how long owls lived, so he made a mental note to check that in the library when he got to school. Harry watched Hedwig fly away into the darkness against the moon until she was nothing but a miniscule dot. Thinking of school was very painful. He wanted to go back, but then again he did not. The dread had been growing ever since he left school on the last day of term in sixth year. Harry turned to look in the mirror and saw a tall, muscular male with broad shoulders and round glasses with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He ran his finger over it, as he had done many times before, memorizing the dents and rough spots. Doing this reminded him of his parents, the people he longed to meet the most. He turned around, staring at his walls, hearing the disgusting snorts of his massive seventeen year old cousin, Dudley, and realized that he was exhausted. He slipped into bed and everything dissolved as he drifted into a, finally, dreamless sleep.



Chapter Two The Apparition



Harry awoke to a bright summer day, with the sun pouring in and bathing him through the windows. He was extremely warm and looked over at his clock. '10:31,' it read. Harry lifted himself out of his bed and looked at the calendar on his wall. He realized that he had been seventeen for ten and a half hours, and he hadn't even noticed. He dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and went downstairs, to hear the Dursleys talking quietly over the kitchen table through the door. "We haven't gotten our monthly pay, Petunia, we should chuck him out." "You don't know what they'd do to us, Vernon." "Oh, do you really think I care about what those crackpots would do to us? We don't have the money to be taking care of people of his abnormal kind." "Vernon, come to your senses. They could come and turn us all into bats, for all we know. The pay will come, I know it . . ." "Petunia, the boy has bad blood, and I'm starting to think that he's having an odd effect on Dudley. Dudley's actually losing weight!" "No, I think he's just started caring what girls think of him." Harry bustled into the kitchen and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at him, quite alarmed and offended, as if they were horrified at the fact that he could have been listening in on their rather private conversation. "Boy, get me some bacon." The Dursleys had started referring to Harry as 'boy', since Harry came home for the summer after his fifth year. Harry didn't let it affect him because he knew that the punishment would be harsh if he talked back to Uncle Vernon. "Boy, get me some orange juice." "Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry served Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon for the next half hour until he could have his small portion of cold breakfast that they had reserved for him. He asked if he could reheat it but was only snapped at, saying that he was disgraceful to the fact that they worked their 'arses' off to get the clothes on his back and the food in his stomach. Harry tired of this quickly, and ate his meal quietly and asked if he could be excused. The less of the Dursleys Harry had to endure in one day, the better. They were now insulting him at an all-time high, with fresh, new, insults being thrown at him every five minutes. ('What's wrong with your hair, boy?', 'Tuck in your shirt, you dirty boy') He went up to his room and plopped on his bed, picking up a journal that he had started a couple years back, and wrote an entry. He was quite involved in his writing when he drifted off to sleep. He was woken with a small 'Pop!' and heard a familiar voice. 'Harry, come on.' Harry turned around and was surprised to be looking Arthur Weasley, right in the eye. "What happened, Mr. Weasley?" "Nothing, Harry, nothing." Mr. Weasley seemed quite nervous and unsure of what he was saying. "Pack your bags, and then we're going to Apparate back to the Burrow . . . yes, it's better if --- yes, okay, come on, Ron and Hermione are both there." Mr. Weasley looked quite strained and looked white and pale. Harry was very confused. "What is happening? Why are we in such a rush to get back to the Burrow?" Harry asked, half-confusedly, half-suspiciously. "I'll tell you when we get back to the house. Just don't let those horrid Muggles you live with hear you bustling around up here. We need to get back to the Burrow, the faster, the better. Now, hurry up!" Harry started grabbing his schoolbooks, his wand, Hedwig's cage, and several pairs of wizarding robes. He shoved them all in his suitcase, with a few other things, and closed his suitcase. "Good, now grab my hand, Harry, we're going back to the Burrow now." With a small pop, all of the color around him was whirling and he finally landed with his feet in the middle of the kitchen, looking around, and seeing all of the Weasleys. Usually, he was greeted with happy and smiling faces, but this time, he was looking around at grim, strained, and pale faces.

Chapter III Strange Ways

Only Mrs. Weasley managed a weak, "Hello, Harry, darling, do make yourself comfortable, here," she motioned to an empty chair next to Ron at the table. Harry gave Ron a confused look but all that he received in return was a dark look. What is going on here? Harry thought to himself. The tension in the room was growing with every passing second, and it was starting to weird Harry out. "So, how have you all been?" Harry asked, trying to break the ice. "Good," Mr. Weasley replied with a nervous laugh. Harry noticed that two of the Weasleys were missing. Charlie and Bill were probably off doing their jobs. Percy was there, for a change, instead of working at the ministry, where he had been promoted to Head of the Department for the Improper Use of Magic office. "Would you like some leftover dinner, Harry? It's still quite warm," Mrs. Weasley asked. Harry took the plate hastily as Mrs. Weasley cast a spell on the meal to make it steaming hot. Everyone watched him like a hawk with every bite he took. This was completely over his head. This was not the Weasley house he had once known. It was usually full of laughter and big booms from the poltergeist in the attic and regular booms were expected from Fred and George's room. He looked from Ron to Hermione to Ginny, Ron's younger sister. Ginny turned scarlet and turned away. She was still quite taken with him. What she didn't know was that Harry had developed a bit of a crush on her in his sixth year. Now was not the time to think of that, though. Harry finished his meal with a pat on his stomach, and Ron said, "Well, I think it's time that we head upstairs to put Harry's stuff away." Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Ron. He didn't think he could stand the tension in the room one moment longer. Hermione followed Harry and Ron out of the kitchen and they started the climb up the several staircases that held the many rooms in the Weasley house. Ron's room was not dirty this time though, since he was living with Hermione in a two room flat down the road. "We've decided to stay here until term starts," Hermione said, nervously. "Hey Ron, I was wondering . . . don't you think you're a little young to be living together? I mean we're only seventeen . . ." "It's really none of your business, is it?" Ron snapped. Harry was taken back at the nasty comment Ron had said. "I'm sorry Harry, it's just that . . . nevermind," Ron said, looking at his feet. "Guys, come on we're best friends, what was going on down there in the kitchen?" Harry asked. Ron and Hermione started shuffling their feet awkwardly. "We'd really rather not tell you . . . Ron's dad said he wanted to tell you himself," Hermione said. Harry was feeling a hot, boiling rage of anger coursing through his body. "I really want to know why everyone was acting to me so strangely!" Harry yelled, his deep baritone voice echoing throughout the household. Hermione burst into tears and Ron hugged her. "Listen Harry, you're just going to have to trust us here. My dad'll fill you in on everything later, once they get here . . ." "Wait 'til who gets here?!" Harry yelled. "Harry! Just trust us!" Ron bellowed back. Harry stormed out of the room, not seeing where he was going until he ran into someone. "Hi Harry," the girl's sweet voice sounded as if it had plenty of oil in it. "Oh, Ginny! I didn't see you there," Harry was getting choked up by the minute. She was definitely acting different then the way she had acted in the kitchen. "Want to come into my room?" Ginny asked, friendly. "Uh, sure," he said. The anger that had once been running through his veins vanished. She dragged him into her room, he had never been here before. It was blue with several posters on the walls of famous wizard boybands, he guessed. "The Whizzits," held a picture of several young boys with loads of pimples. She sat him down on the bed and said, "I'm sorry that my family was acting so oddly towards you earlier." "That's okay," he started twiddling his thumbs. He was very nervous. Ginny caught on and said, "Harry, relax. I'm sixteen, they know you're a good guy. Don't worry about anything." Ginny laid Harry on his back on the bed and she crawled up to his face and kissed him. Harry didn't know how something so wrong could feel so right. Her tongue massaged his. Harry was just getting into it when his instinct kicked in. He pushed Ginny back onto her bottom and said, "Listen, it's just not right. As much as I will probably really regret this later, I can't see you. It's like some kind of unwritten rule. 'Thy must not see thy best friend's little sister. It's just not right." She started to button up her blouse again. Harry had not realized that it had come off in all the fun he was having. "Fine Harry, but when you do grow up, give me a call," she pushed him out of her room and slammed the door. Harry had to hide his bottom half as he ran to the bathroom. He had no idea that Ginny had this effect on him After he came out of the bathroom, he went downstairs to the living room. Ron and Hermione were there, and so was Ginny. She gave him a dark look and went back to the book she was reading. Everyone seemed to have stiffened a bit when he walked into the room. He could hear rumblings from the kitchen as if voices were talking very quietly. Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen and said, "Harry, dear, would you please come in here?" Harry lifted himself out of the chair he was sitting in and walked into the kitchen. He was shocked to find him face to face with two of the most important people in the wizarding world, along with another familiar face. Albus Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, and Sirius Black were all sitting around the freshly scrubbed kitchen table, each with a cup of tea.



Chapter Four The Arrow of Light



"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said. "No disrespect, Professor, but what are you all doing here?" Harry asked, amazedly. "We are here to tell you something. It could be hard for you to hear, if you let it, but if you let the news sink in, I'm sure you'll be just fine," he said with a twinkling in his eyes. "Hello, Harry, good chap, how have you been?" Fudge said. Cornelius Fudge was the Minister of Magic for England. "I've been good, thanks," Harry said, calmly. He didn't know why he wasn't shocked that all three of these people were in his kitchen. There would most likely be a fourth, Rubeus Hagrid, but he had passed away in fifth year, fighting Lord Voldemort, Madame Maxime by his side. Harry felt a pang of hurt in his heart as he thought of Hagrid. Harry looked to Sirius, and he held out his arms for a hug. Harry went over and hugged him. "How's Lupin?" Harry asked concernedly. "He's doing just fine," Sirius replied, almost automatically. "Harry, would you please sit down," Dumbledore said. Harry took his place across from the three of them. "I asked these two men to be present at this meeting because I think you might have some questions after I tell you." "Okay," Harry replied. "The Legend of the Arrow of Light," Dumbledore whispered. "Pardon?" "The Arrow of Light, is said to be conjured by none other than Godric Gryffindor. It flies through the sky, searching for a worthy candidate, to be its victim. The Arrow of Light has such medieval powers that no one knows except the worthy one. The Arrow of Light has to have courage, loyalty, etc. And Harry, you are the Arrow of Light." As Dumbledore said those last words, Harry started realizing a few things. That's why the Weasleys were acting so strangely towards him earlier. They were afraid he was going to explode or something. That's what the dream was about . . . the scarlet and gold thing plummeting towards Harry was the Arrow of Light. It was hard to believe that a boy of seventeen years could have so much power. "Why did it pick me?" Harry found those words coming out of its mouth. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself, Harry." "I'm only seventeen. I really can't believe that I could have so much power." "You have power beyond your wildest dreams, Harry." Harry was still in shock from this tall tale. He really didn't know if he believed what the man he had trusted for his whole life at Hogwarts, was saying. "Do you have any questions for any of us?" Dumbledore asked, kindly. "No, can I just be alone to think about it?" Harry asked. "Surely," Dumbledore said. Harry lifted himself out of the chair and walked out of the kitchen. He walked through the living room, and saw Ron and Hermione staring at him uneasily. Ron opened his mouth to say something but Harry gave him a look, as to shut him up. Harry went up the steps, tripping over many things, being too wrapped up in his own world. It just doesn't make sense. I don't have any mystical powers, I'm only seventeen! His head was screaming. Although, Dumbledore had never failed, and why would he lie to him? That's a pretty dumb thing to lie about. He reached Ron's room and opened the door and sat on the bed. He was just starting to ponder the seriousness of the situation when he heard people screaming downstairs. Harry left Ron's room and bolted down the three flights of steps. He came to the landing of the first staircase and saw that Ron and Hermione were having a blazing row. "It's your fault that he's mad at us!" Ron yelled. "Why is it MY fault? You were the one that was being smart to him!" Hermione screamed. Harry chuckled to himself. They were already sounding like a married couple. They obviously hadn't seen Harry sitting on the bottom step and were quite embarrassed when they took notice of him. "Guys, I'm not mad. I was just really frustrated. Everyone was being so weird and awkward. They've cleared everything up, though." Ron and Hermione walked over to the step and sat down next to him. "Sorry we didn't tell you. It's just that Dad didn't want us saying anything to you. He thought it better if Dumbledore told you himself," Ron said. "That's okay. But tell me why everyone was treating me like I was a bomb that was going to go off?" Harry asked curiously, yet seriously. "Harry, don't you realize how serious this is?" Hermione asked. Harry's ignorance to the wizarding world was obviously showing again. "No, as a matter of fact I don't really believe it." Both Ron and Hermione gasped. "What's the big deal? I've got some mystical powers," Harry said jokingly. "Harry, come here," Hermione led Harry up the flight of the steps to the level where the bathroom was. "There's a mirror in here somewhere . . ." Hermione said. All of a sudden a mirror appeared in front of their eyes. This was quite normal in a wizard household, so neither of them were very surprised. "Harry, stand in front of the mirror, and take off your shirt," Hermione instructed. "E-Excuse me?" Harry asked. "Just do it," Hermione said exasperatedly. Harry took off his shirt and Hermione was obviously surprised. Harry was well built with a six pack. Hermione tried to look unsurprised, although Harry knew she was. He chuckled. "It's got to be here somewhere," Hermione said, a little nervous about touching Harry's bare skin. She hesitated a little but she finally put her hands on him. "Hermione, haven't you ever seen a male with his shirt off before?" Harry asked, laughing. "Well yes, I've seen Ron, but you know, he isn't as built as you. It's kind of hard to believe that you were so skinny as a boy but now you have all this muscle," Hermione said, turning red. She resumed her search of his body and finally poked something on the small of his back. "Ouch!" he yelped as he leaped forward a few steps. "There it is. If you'd um . . . pull down you're pants a bit, you'll be able to see it," Hermione said, going redder. Harry chuckled and pulled his pants down a little. There was a little mark. "And?" Harry said. "Look at it more closely," Hermione said, pointing at it with her wand, to magnify it with a simple engorgement spell. It was a little arrow, going through the sun. Harry was quite startled at the sight of it. "Now do you believe us?" Hermione asked. "What is it?" he asked worriedly. "I was reading a book, and I came across the legend of the arrow of light. All of them have a mark, exactly like this one. You are the Arrow of Light, Harry. Don't deny it," Hermione said. Harry looked at Hermione, and for a second he thought that he saw an attraction between the two of them. Not a friendly attraction, but a physical attraction. It was kind of an awkward moment. "Well, I'd better be going then, " Hermione said, breaking the silence. "Yeah, good idea," Harry said. As Hermione left the room, Harry was left with a very weird feeling. What had just happened then? His best friend since first year, his best friend's girlfriend . . . there had definitely been a physical attraction. Harry brushed it off and walked out of the bathroom.



Chapter Five The Journey to Hogwarts

The next month at the Weasley's was definitely the strangest he had ever spent there. There was a certain awkwardness between him and Hermione and he was certain that Ron was getting suspicious. Mr. Weasley was acting extremely protective and Fred and George avoided him completely. Mrs. Weasley was the only one that acted normally. He often heard her arguing with Mr. Weasley about the way everyone was behaving. ('The boy's still a human being, Arthur!') On the night before the return to Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley summoned Harry into the kitchen yet again. "Now Harry, everyone might be acting oddly towards you. A lot of them will regard you as something of a 'God.' Just ignore them." Harry was definitely startled by this 'conference.' Harry really didn't think anyone would treat him differently. He didn't think anyone else would know about him being the Arrow of Light. The awful reporter, Rita Skeeter, who dug up anything bad about anyone and anything, had been outlawed from the wizard world. Harry had not heard from her since. As the seven Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione sat around the den, Hermione spoke up. "I'm Head Girl, I got the letter today." "Oh, how wonderful darling! Too bad Ron wasn't made Head Boy," she said with a stern nod towards Ron. Ron replied with a frown when she wasn't looking. "That's really great, Hermione," Harry said with a smile. Hermione looked away quickly. Harry guessed that she was still dwelling on the occurrence that had happened a few weeks earlier. They barely spoke to each other, except to say, "Pass the stuffing, Harry," or "Excuse me, Hermione." Ron was getting more and more suspicious everyday. Harry tried to act completely normal around him and Hermione, but it was obviously harder for Hermione to do this than it was for Harry. She was getting choked up and red every time she was around Ron. This wasn't helping the fact that Harry and she were trying to conceal the fact that they had an attraction to each other. Whenever Ron tried to hug Hermione, she didn't respond in her usual loving manner. She made a weak attempt every time. She and Harry never locked eyes, let alone say 'hello to each other.' The awkwardness had continued to grow throughout the last month of the summer. Later that night, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all sitting around the fire in the den, in their usual eerie silence, until Ron exploded. "OK! What is going ON HERE?" Ron bellowed. "What're you talking about, Ron?" Hermione replied, weakly. "We aren't talking about anything! And we haven't for the past month! You and Harry are always nervous around each other! Is there something going on here that I don't know about?" Ron yelled. "Of course not, Ron. What'd you think, we liked each other or something?" Harry asked. "Well, yes, that's what I was starting to -" Ron began. "Ron! I've always been faithful to you, do you think that I wouldn't tell you if I had a crush on Harry?" Hermione said. After that, there was the same silence. After awhile, Ron finally spoke up. "Are we still best friends?" The three of them looked at each other. That moment was so awkward, and it made them all nervous that they actually had to think about it. Were they still best friends? It seemed like they had grown so much apart over the summer. They all looked at each other and started to crack up. "I'll take that as a yes," Ron said, laughing. "To think that we actually weren't going to be best friends forever," Harry said. "Yeah, I was so nervous just then. No one was saying anything," Hermione said, giggling. They laughed for a straight ten minutes, until they looked at the clock and saw it read, "10:31." "I haven't laughed like that in a while," Ron said, as they headed up the staircase to bed. On the third floor, they reached Ron's room. "Well, g'night Harry," Ron said as he and Hermione quickly headed the other way. "Where're you going?" Harry asked slyly. "Well, you know, we thought we'd spend the night together," Ron said, going red. "But you've spent the last month in here with me," Harry said, continually being sly. "Well, I mean if you really want us in there with you -" Ron said. "No thank you! Go and have fun," Harry said, laughing hard. After Hermione had walked towards the end of the hallway, Ron looked back at Harry and smiled at him. Harry smiled back and gave him the thumbs up. Harry opened Ron's door and entered his room. There was someone sitting on his bed. Ginny. "Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. "Hey Harry, I'm sorry that I was so - er - cruel to you earlier, and I wanted to make it up to you." "Ginny, what did I say early -" Harry was cut off because Ginny had kissed him. Harry gave in this time and let Ginny give him . . . well . . . pleasure. After Ginny had finished, Harry laid on the bed. Ginny kissed him and walked out of the room. Harry went to the bathroom to clean himself up, the pleasure still thoroughly placed around his body. Harry left the bathroom and walked to the bathroom. He laid on his bed, and drifting off to a pleasant sleep.