Author's Note: This is the sequel to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Fanfic. Go read that one first, if you want this to make sense. But then, it won't anyway. D

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Potter47

One
New Titles

It was a dark and stormy night.

Then, the next day, it was bright and cheery, and that is where our story begins.

It was a bright and cheery day.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and as of yet, not a single kamikaze bluebird had flown too close to the Whomping Willow.

Luna Lovegood was walking along the grounds of Hogwarts, whistling a merry tune, serenely oblivious to the world around her.

Sereneness--or "serenity"--is a beautiful thing. It comes when one is at peace, when one is calm, when one is tranquil... or, if one is Luna Lovegood, when one walks face-first into the Half-Blood Prince.

"Ow," said the Half-Blood Prince. "You walked right into me."

"Sorry," said Luna serenely. Then, with a sudden eyebrow motion reminiscent of Hermione, Luna said, "Hang on a minute."

The Half-Blood Prince stopped. Luna watched him impatiently.

"What?" said the Half-Blood Prince.

"I said to hang on a minute," said Luna, serenely aggravated.

"I am," said the Half-Blood Prince.

"No you're not."

"What do you expect me to do?"

"To hang on a minute." Luna harrumphed serenely, and reached into her pocket, pulling out an abnormally large set of numbers:

3:57 PM

they read.

She tossed it into the air above the Half-Blood Prince's head, and then said, "Hang onto it."

The Half-Blood Prince furrowed his brow for a minute, and then did as instructed. Then Luna smiled.

"Now, where was I?" she said. "Oh, yes."

With another sudden eyebrow movement reminiscent of Hermione, Luna said to the Half-Blood Prince, "You're not the Half-Blood Prince!"

"What are you talking about?" said the supposed Half-Blood Prince.

"You're not," said Luna. "According to the last book, the Half-Blood Prince was Snape."

The alleged Half-Blood Prince sighed. "Blast it. But... but... I am a Half-Blood Prince..."

"You are?"

"Mmhmm. My parents were the King and Queen of Greenland before they died. My name's Po Turforti-Seén."

"Wouldn't that make you the Half-Blood King, then?" said Luna serenely.

"Why, yes, I suppose you're right," said the Half-Blood King. Then: "Wait... does that mean I have to adopt Snape?"

"Of course," said Luna.

"But I'm only fourteen..."

"Well, he's only forty. It'll work."

----

It was a bright and cheery day. Still.

Harry Potter was lounging on the grounds of Hogwarts. He supposed he probably shouldn't have even been at Hogwarts, what with the school closing down the year before, but loads of kids seemed to like to hang around anyway. He'd just seen Luna talking to Po Turforti-Seén, for instance.

It was a sad thing, about Po. He'd defeated Voldemort last year like the prophecy had said and everything, and then book six had come out and brought Voldemort back and made Snape the Half-Blood Prince instead and now instead of being a war-hero, Po Turforti- Seén was just another washed-up, has-been King of Greenland. It was so sad... especially since Greenland wasn't a monarchy.

Harry's mind changed the subject.

Isn't today a beautiful day...? said Harry's mind. Isn't today a most wondrous December the Twenty-First...? It's almost Christmas, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and not one kamikaze bluebird has flown too close to the Whomping Willow...

Then, as though some sort of magical spell had turned the world upside down, Harry's world turned upside down.

A voice shouted from the myriad of "students" gathered needlessly on the grounds of the closed-down school: "The title's here!" it said.

There was an ominous, yet bright and cheery, silence.

"Well, what is it?!" yelled Harry.

"Hang on a second," said the "student." "I've got to figure out how to open the blasted door..."

The "students" waited with anxious anxiety for minutes upon end. Harry watched a pretty little butterfly flit around beautifically, which is not a word, but should be.

"HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY GA--no, wait! HOLLOWS--no, wait! HALLOWS! HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS!"

The butterfly fell to the ground, dead.

"Oh no," said Harry. "Hermione's going to go nuts--"

And that she did--she was suddenly just next to Harry, along with Ron, who was attempting to restrain her.

She was shouting.

"DEATHLY can't modify HALLOWS...! Deathly is an adverb! Hallows is a noun! That's atrocious grammar--and hang on a minute!"

Po Turforti-Seén looked round from where he was standing, wary.

"Hallows isn't even a word! 'Hallow' is a verb meaning to 'make sacred'... so what, is she saying it's 'Harry Potter and the Act of Making Things Sacred, Deathly?' That's just bull--"

"Hermione!" shouted Ron, affronted. "Watch your language!"

Hermione stook her tongue out at him--"stook," by the way, is not a word, but clearly should be.

As, apparently, is "hallows"...

"I'm going to go write a letter of complaint to J. K. Rowling this instant!" said Hermione.

Ron's eyes widened. "But--but--but--what if she smites you?" he whispered fearfully.

"She wouldn't dare...!" muttered Hermione, glaring up at the heavens.

----

Po Turforti-Seén didn't know what to do. As the Half-Blood King, he'd just begotten himself a forty-year old son, and he had no idea what to do next.

A strange, fatherly feeling flared up inside him, and suddenly everything was clear.

"I have to find my son," he said, with a certainty he had not known he possessed. He nodded sagely, assuredly, serenely.

Po Turforti-Seén looked out at the horizon which was, suddenly, clearly visible on the Hogwarts grounds.

"Don't worry, Severus," said the Half-Blood King, his determination clear on his face. "Daddy's coming."

TBC

Dearest reader, and hopefully reviewer,

It has been a long time since we last corresponded--before there was any talk of "Snape Killing Dumbledore" or that mysterious R.A.B. (who most likely isn't that mysterious at all). In fact, it has been since the Night Before Book Six since you last year from me.

A lot has changed in my life. As you know, Po-Turforti-Seen has more important things on his mind now that he's been cleared of HBP status, than to chase around a little old author like me--as such, I've been leading a very calm, stress-free life.

That is... until the title.

Now it's back to work for me, back to the old days of my H.B.P.P.s. Sure, they won't be called that anymore--unless I feel like it, for old times' sake--but here they are again. What is going to happen in book seven...? That, my friend, is what we're here to find out.

Stay tuned.