Hi to all people who know me, and all of you who don't, I'm Phoenix-Flame-Fantasy or you can just call me KT.
This is my first fanfic, so i'm a little nervous that this could go terribly wrong, but i'm going to make an attempt anyway.
I would gladly accept opinions (who wouldn't?) and ideas on how i can make this better in anyway, i will take no offence. If i've made any mistakes it would be helpful if you pointed them out for me, because basically, i'm rubbish at spotting them.
I'm warning everyone in advance that my chapters are very long so i'll only post an update once a week, so it gives my more time to write more at home.
Don't worry, i won't abandon my readers (hopefully) and i'll keep you updated on where i am.
For example i'll update this bit below about my chapters...
Chapter 11- in progress
Before i start, i would like to say that i don't like taking parts out of the original books, but the beginning of the first chapter is taken out of OotP because if you use logic, the scene is watched from Harry's point of veiw meaning that if i changed it, i would be changing his perspective.
Ok, that doesn't make sense, but you might understand better once you've read it, so without further a do i present Harry Potter and the Battle Within
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DISCLAIMER:
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling so i don't own it sadly...
Chapter 1
Harry stood in the Department of
Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic.
There are spells shooting in
all directions but he doesn't care, his attention is focused on the
two people in the centre of the large room.
There was Sirius
duelling with his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange.
It was a fight
between good and evil, but this was real life, not a fairytale.
Harry
saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at
her
'Come on you can do better than that!' he yelled
The
second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter
had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in
shock.
Harry ran towards him, pulling out his wand.
It seemed
to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as
he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the
arch.
Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his
wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and
disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though
in a high wind, then fell back into place.
A voice echoed in his
head…
'There's nothing you can do Harry…nothing…he's
gone.'
Harry Potter woke with a start; he was covered in
a cold sweat and was breathing very fast.
He had been having the
same dream repeatedly, almost every time he fell asleep.
His
breathing slowed down gradually as he stared up at the ceiling.
Haven't I thought about it enough when I'm awake?
Harry asked himself.
He would have given almost anything for a
dreamless sleep potion.
Harry sat upright in bed and tore the
bed sheets off him, knowing he wasn't going to get anymore
sleep.
Running a hand through his untidy black hair he groped
around for his glasses.
After putting them on, it brought
everything into sharper focus.
The room around him was a mess; his
desk was littered with bits of parchment, quills and school books,
which he was reading to keep his mind on something else other than
his Godfather.
On the floor was his luggage bag which he had not
unpacked and had been living out of for the past four weeks. Clothes
were spilling out and shards of glass were visible, from the mirror
he had thrown in and smashed while packing at school.
The bird
cage on top of the wardrobe smelt terrible as it had not been cleaned
out for a long time. It was so bad, that Hedwig, his Snowy Owl, only
came to visit him every three days to collect the usual letter to
send to the Order, to tell them he was fine.
Harry slowly took
in his environment and dimly registered the mess, he didn't care,
nothing mattered anymore…not since…Sirius' death…
As if
magically attracted he looked over at his bedside cabinet.
His
wand lay there, dusty and unused, and next to it a photo album, that
had been left open on a certain page.
He picked it up for what
must have been the hundredth time and smiled weakly at the picture of
his mum and dad on their wedding day with their best man, Harry's
Godfather Sirius.
The picture was moving, as most wizard pictures
do.
They were smiling and waving up at him, happily oblivious to
their fate.
The thought that had been going through his head for
the past four weeks came to him again.
They're all gone…I'm
all alone…
Footsteps coming up the stairs broke into his
thoughts and he hastily took the photo of his, mother, father and
Sirius out and stuffed it under his pillow. He leaned forward and
shoved the photo album under his bed.
He sat back into a
comfortable position and waited, wondering if any of the Dursley's
would remember that it was his sixteenth birthday today, but his
hopes were not very high.
There was a gentle tapping on the
door his Aunt Petunia edged into the room carrying a bowl of soup and
a spoon.
She handed them to Harry without a word and sat opposite
from him on a chair.
Folding her bony arms she started to stare at
Harry as if waiting for something.
When he didn't make any
movement, her eyes narrowed.
"Eat!" she ordered.
"If you
don't eat those, people, will think we're not treating you
right and will come here…"
She shuddered at the thought of
it.
"Eat!" his Aunt ordered again.
Harry complied and
started to drink his soup with the spoon.
He didn't feel like
eating, but he didn't feel like arguing either.
He was used to
this, it had happened at the same time, every day for the past three
weeks.
It started when Harry came home to Privet Drive after
the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and
wizardry.
He had gone straight up to his room, before his uncle
could say one word, and locked himself in.
He wasn't ready to
face the world after what had happened; he was still blaming himself
for Sirius' death.
As Harry would hardly ever leave his room,
Aunt Petunia had taken to passing food through the cat flap in his
door, which had been placed some years previously.
Harry hardly
even moved from his bed, let alone the room, so the plates of food
and cups remained untouched, until there was a weeks worth of food
piled high just inside the door.
Aunt Petunia used common sense
(something that surprised Harry) and realised he wasn't eating. She
got her husband Vernon to smash open the door and remove the
lock.
Now he was forced to eat, even if what he got was always
small in amount, and was carefully watched by his aunt.
He
looked up from his half-finished soup to see that she was glaring at
him with her steely blue eyes, so he glared right back with his dull
green eyes.
He thought miserably to himself that she was his only
living relative left.
If you compared his aunt and his mother, you
would have never guessed they were sisters, and his aunt never acted
like she even had a sister at all.
Harry had always imagined
what it would have been like not to have been made to live with the
Dursleys, with his aunt, uncle and stupid, Cousin Dudley.
He had
hoped he could have lived in an orphanage instead, because that was
what he was, an orphan.
His parents died when he was only one
year old in their own home.
They were murdered, trying to protect
him from the darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldermort.
He had
been on a mad quest to destroy Harry but failed and almost destroyed
himself, leaving Harry with his famous lightning-bolt shaped scar on
his forehead.
Just over a month ago Harry had discovered why.
A
prophecy was made that he was destined to fulfil….
'The
one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…
Born to
those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…
And
the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the
Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other
for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the
power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month
dies…'
As Harry thought of these words it brought him
sudden sadness.
He looked down at his soup feeling suddenly sick
and then closed his eyes and sighed.
"Are you alright?"
Harry
jumped, spilling hot soup down him and onto the bed.
He had
completely forgotten his aunt was still there.
"What did you do
that for!" she screeched "now I'll have to change your
sheets...GET UP!"
Harry walked over to the window,
considering changing his soup stained clothes.
He peered outside
and realised there was a group of four people at the front door.
His
spirit soared, thinking it was his friends coming to visit him for
his Birthday, since it was today.
But on closer inspection he saw
it was Dudley's gang, making him feel more miserable than
before.
Piers Polkiss was at the front of the group, he had
been one of Dudley's best friends for as long as he could
remember.
He was still as scrawny as ever, though he was
taller.
His rat like face was screwed up in anger and he seemed to
be arguing with somebody at the door. Harry guessed it was
Dudley.
The house shook as the front door was slammed in their
faces and they stood there for a few seconds looking stunned.
As
they turned to leave, Piers looked up at Harry's window.
When
piers saw Harry, his face turned from a look of confusion to
hatred.
He nudged the others around him and they all looked up at
him, all with the same expression of hatred on their faces.
Harry
stared down at them with a puzzled expression, he had no idea what
that was about.
He shrugged and turned to see if Aunt Petunia
had gone.
But she was still there, one arm full of sheets, but in
the other hand see held the photograph Harry had stuffed under his
pillow.
She just stood there with her mouth hanging slightly open
and her eyes transfixed on the picture.
Then she looked up into
Harry's eyes, and to his surprise they were filled with tears.
She
seemed to be trying to say something but she kept faltering.
"Harry…"
was all she could manage in a weak voice.
He suddenly felt a wave
of anger wash over him.
It belonged to him, not her!! She
didn't even deserve to touch it!
He took two long strides
over to the bedside cabinet and snatched up his wand.
"Give it
back" he growled pointing it directly at her.
She flinched and
dropped the bed sheets, but stood resolutely gazing at him in shock,
still holding the photo.
"Give it back!" he almost
screamed.
She jumped backwards as red sparks shot out of his wand
tip, but then held out the picture with a shaking hand for Harry to
take.
He pulled it sharply from her grasp and put it in his
pocket.
"Get out!" Harry shouted.
Aunt Petunia
turned and fled from him in terror, tears now streaming down her
face.