DISCLAIMER: I claim no ownership of Harry Potter, nor any of it's characters, themes, plots, etc...
I do however own this original story, as well as all of its original characters.
It had been a quiet day in Godric's Hollow, and now the twilit moon shinned down through the pale pink sky. The streets were deserted, and the streetlamps were just starting to flicker into life. Outside one particular house a striped orange tabby cat stood sentry atop a small set of stairs, its yellow eyes reflecting the light from the streetlamps as it stared down the empty streets.
The silence was broken by a loud crack, like the thunder before the skies break open. The sound swallowed the quiet noises of the neighborhood, echoing and reverberating off every surface it touched. The cat turned its head reflexively in the direction of the noise, staring unblinkingly, at the man who had appeared out of thin air.
The man hastily stuffed a cherry wand into the folds of his navy robes and darted his eyes around the street, making sure no one had seen him, then made his way toward the aged red brick house. He gave a curt nod to the cat, before rapping three times on the door.
A moment later the door swung open, revealing a kind faced woman with fiery red hair and light brown eyes. "Hey Neville." She said with a warm smile, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. "It's been awhile. How are things with Hannah?"
"Oh, uh things are great. Listen is-" but he was cut off.
"What about the girls?" Ginny asked.
"They're fine. Listen is-" but again he was cut short.
"Is Alice excited for her first year at Hogwarts?" Ginny rambled on.
"LISTEN!" Neville said much louder this time. "Is Harry home? I need to talk with him its urgent." Neville said finally.
"Neville what's wrong? I haven't seen you so stressed since we were Hogwarts." Ginny said in a worried, motherly tone, which she usually reserved for James.
"No, it's nothing really, just..." He took a breath. "Is he home?" He asked again this time in a more calm and controlled voice.
"Uh..." Ginny hesitated, apparently some of Neville's stress had rub off on her. "Yeah he's in the basement, doing some paperwork I think."
"Thanks." Neville said as he brushed past her, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.
Ginny stood alone now in the open doorway, worrying about Neville, thinking about what might have happened. He had never been short with her in the past, Neville had always been one of her best friends, whatever it was it must be serious.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, noticing the orange tabby that was sitting on her porch. "Eavesdropping I suppose."
A moment later the cat had morphed into a man, wearing a heavily worn brown trench coat, with fiery red hair like hers, except his was beginning to thin on the top. "For your information," the man began, "I'm keeping your family safe while, your husband," he gave a shudder at the word, "finishes the paperwork. After that we've got to head back to the Ministry."
"Honestly Ron." She scoffed.
There was a brief moment of silence before Ron said in a serious tone, "What do you think's up with Neville?"
"I don't know." Ginny said in a measured voice. "And that's what scares me."
At that precise moment there was another thunderous crack, and Harry Potter appeared before them. His hair stood off in all directions as usual, and his piercing green eyes looked soft behind is thin framed glasses, the lightning bolt scar on his forehead was just as prominent as ever. His golden Auror's badge flashed briefly from beneath his own immaculate trenchcoat. "Here Ron," he said in a soft baritone as he handed Ron the rolled up parchments he was carrying. "Take these to Anastasia."
"Ugh." Ron groaned in the juvenile way that reminded Harry of when they had been teenagers. "You know I hate her."
"Ron without her to take care the paperwork I'd be stuck in that stuffy office all day, and you'd have her as a partner." He scolded. "Now deliver these parchments to Anastasia," but Ron still did not move. "That's an order." Harry stared daggers at Ron, letting him know that he was absolutely serious. He didn't enjoy being stern with Ron, but sometimes, when he was being especially stubborn, it was the only choice.
With a grunt, a snatch and a pop, Ron had gone.
"Harry what's wrong with-" Ginny began but Harry was already answering her question.
"I don't know. But it's not good." He said, then he too vanished from sight.
"Harry!" Neville called as he bustled down the stairs. "Harry!" He called again.
When he finally reached the bottom of the stairs he saw Harry at the far end of the room bent over a large desk with a quill in his hand. "Harry I-" but yet again Neville was cut off.
"Shh," Harry said without looking up. He made a gesture with his free hand to a pair of empty chairs next to a glass table. "One minute Neville."
"Harry I-"
"One minute." He said, in a stern but conversational tone. He rolled up the two scrolls of parchment and disappeared with a pop. Exactly sixty seconds later there was another pop, Harry was standing a few feet away from Neville now, sitting down - without looking - at the chair he had apparated in front of. "What's the matter Neville." He said in the soft voice everyone who had known him from Hogwarts was familiar with.
Neville looked like a mess now, he had cold sweats and could hardly speak without stuttering. Harry whipped out his wand and pointed at a shelf of glass bottles, making a large bottle of amber liquid and two wide glasses float towards them, landing with a clink on the glass table. "Drink." He said as he poured the liquid into a glass and handed it to Neville.
"What is it?" Asked Neville. "A Calming Draught?"
"Ogden's Old Firewhiskey." Harry said. "But I have Calming Draught too if you prefer."
"No," said Neville, "this will do fine." He lifted the glass to his lips and drank it all in one large gulp. It burned his throat on the way down, but a moment later Neville felt the warmth of the firewhiskey spread throughout his body, making him more relaxed than any Calming Draught could have done.
"It's Alice." He had expected Harry to be shocked, or to at least react in some way, but he only continued to stare intently at him. Neville was used to this side of Harry, they had been Aurors together for five years before Neville had resigned. "She... She... Well to tell you the truth I don't know what's happened to her."
"Did you take her to St. Mungo's?" Harry asked, he knew it would be hard for Neville to think about another family member in St. Mungo's, but he also knew that Neville was a strong enough man to hear it.
"No, it's nothing like that, it's just... Well... I think she's had a vision." This time Harry reacted, his eyes opened a little wider and his jaw dropped slightly. The reaction was so slight most people would not take any notice of it, Neville would have missed it too, had he not been watching Harry at the time.
"There have been no seers in my family or Hannah's, and all the books I've read say that the 'sight', is passed down through birth. So it can't be a vision right?" Neville was almost pleading with Harry, begging him to say that he was right.
"Why don't you tell me what happened?" Harry said as he sat his own untouched glass of firewhiskey back on the table. "As accurately as you can."
"Alright," Neville breathed, he knew Harry's tactic of letting the witness tell him everything they know first hand, and was thrilled to know that he was being taken seriously.
"It was a little before midnight. Hannah and I were up talking about Alice's first day at Hogwarts, and telling each other about our own first days. I had just gotten to the part about my frog Trevor getting lost and she was laughing. At first we didn't hear it, a low drone from the next room. But then Augusta screamed, and there was another voice neither of us recognized. We ran into the girls' room, and Alice was sitting bolt upright in her bed, her pupils were so large they nearly covered her whole eyes, and she was speaking in a deep, haunting voice." Neville started to cry now, he could only speak between sobs. "I was so scared Harry... My little girl... I didn't know what was wrong... I couldn't help her..." He took a moment to gather himself before he continued.
"Hannah was terrified, she was sitting with Augusta in her bed, stroking her hair and rocking her gently. They were both crying so hard, neither of them knew what was going on." He took another pause. "I didn't catch all of it, and thankfully Alice doesn't remember anything, but here's what I did hear." He said handing Harry a small rolled parchment.
... One with great and terrible power is beginning life anew ... Old evils are rising from a place beyond death ... And he shall have powers to rival any other ... And will be reborn on the eve of the coming solstice ... Coming! ... COMING! ...
"What do you think it means?" Neville asked when Harry put the parchment down on the table.
"I'm not sure." Harry said slowly.
"You don't think it means You-Know-Who is coming back do you?" Neville asked, in the small frightened voice that Harry had not heard since their schooldays.
"I don't think so Neville. Voldemort is dead, and you can't come back from the dead. No matter what any prophecy says." Harry said each word very deliberately, so that Neville would be more inclined to believe him.
"But you can be brought back as an Inferi." Neville pointed out.
"Yes, but that's not really living is it. An Inferi is just a shell of a person, possessed by magic. Like a giant puppet, doing whatever the creator tells it to do." Harry had dealt with Inferi on several occasions, and even tried the curse himself once - just to better understand the mechanics of the spell.
Neville gave a grunt of acknowledgement, signalling that, at the very least, he had heard Harry.
"Are you sure You-Know-" Neville was cut off.
"Neville, he's been dead for nineteen years, don't you think it's okay to the his name now?" Harry said harshly. Neville was one of the bravest people Harry knew, and in the past whenever they had spoken about Voldemort, Neville had always used the name freely, but something about the idea the prophecy had scared all the courage out of him.
"Alright fine." Neville said solemnly. "Are you sure, Voldemort," he whispered the name, "is dead?"
Harry began to speak, but quickly stopped himself. It was plain to see, that Neville was terrified, but Harry thought that if this had happened to Lily, he would be rather shaken up as well.
"Neville," Harry began, the soothing tone of his voice ushering away the tension and anxiety. "Voldemort is not coming back. I killed him, I saw ..." Harry paused as a shiver of cold crept down his spine. "I saw the shriveled piece of his soul die. Trust me Neville, he's gone."
"What do you mean you saw his soul die? You never told any of us about it before."
"No." Harry admitted. "I thought it better for no one to know, or else you'd all think I'd gone mental." Harry sighed and took a sip of his firewhiskey, steeling himself for the long overdue confession.
"When Voldemort killed me, or, when he killed the part of himself that lived inside me - I'm still not entirely sure what happened - I woke up, or, it wasn't so much waking up, as I just, was, in this place.
"At first I wasn't sure if it was real. I wasn't sure if I was real, but as I drifted between conscience and unconsciousness, I suddenly became aware that I was lying on something, and in order to lay on something I must have a body, and if I have a body and a conscience mind, I must be real.
"That was a surreal moment. Slowly piecing my reality together, like an immensely difficult jigsaw puzzle.
"Once I realized that I was conscience, I realized that I was naked, but somehow I knew that I was alone, so it didn't bother me. Once I realized I could feel, I wondered if I could see. I opened my eyes and... I don't know how to describe it, It was like seeing for the first time, but at the exact same moment realizing that I had eyes. Everything was white and cloudy, like my surroundings were being formed as I looked at them.
"I sat up then. I wasn't wearing my glasses, yet I could see fine - though there wasn't much to be seen. The next part still haunts me sometimes. There was a soft thumping and a pitiful, almost tortured whine. I wasn't scared, just... I don't know how to put it exactly. I felt uncomfortable, and I really wanted to be wearing clothes. I'd barely formed the thought in my head when a set of robes appeared in front of me. For some reason I didn't question how they'd simply materialized out of nothing, I just put them on.
"I stood then, and I looked around. I still had no idea where I was, and for a moment I thought I was in the Room of Requirement. As I looked around the room, I found the thing that was making all the noise, it was horrifying. It appeared to be a small, naked child, brittle and bony, with rough, raw skin, struggling to breath. It was curled up under a small bench, like luggage someone had forgotten. I was terrified of it, even though it was small, even though it was weak, even though it was dying, I was terrified. Looking back now I think it was an instinctual fear, like somehow I knew what this thing was, and the very thought of it was enough to set me on edge. Scared though I was I walked towards it, soon I was within an arm's length of it, I thought I should try to help it somehow, but I could not bring myself to touch it.
"Then Dumbledore was suddenly there, and he told me that I couldn't help it. That was at once one of the happiest and saddest moments of my life. Dumbledore was here again, half moon spectacles and all, and as soon as I saw him I began to remember everything that happened, the horcruxes, the battle and even my own death, flooded back into my conscience mind." Harry sighed, then took a long pause.
"But Dumbledore's dead. You can't be brought back from the dead, so if you're seeing him does that mean you died too?" Neville asked nervously.
"That was what I asked Dumbledore, he said 'On the whole, dear boy, I think not,' " Harry gave a small chuckle, but he was not entirely sure why. There was a long silence after that, as both men thought of Dumbledore. Neville remembered him as the kind, albeit occasionally mad, Headmaster of Hogwarts, but Harry remembered him as a man like any other man. A man who made foolish mistakes, a man who spent his whole adult life running from his past, and a man who'd always offer you a lemon candy. Harry smiled.
"That's what that thing was underneath the bench," Harry said, breaking the silence, "it was the part of Voldemort's soul that he had killed."
"He's dead Neville." Harry breathed. "Besides, I don't think you have to worry. Most prophecies don't come true."
"But your's did." Neville pointed out.
"Yes," admitted Harry. "Have you ever heard the prophecy Neville?"
Neville shook his head.
Harry cleared his throat and began to recite the prophecy, "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..."
There was a silence afterwards in which Neville stared, unblinking, at Harry, he had completely missed the point.
"Don't you see? The prophecy could have meant either one of us, and it's only because Voldemort acted on the prophecy that it became true at all. Each part of a prophecy has variables, indeterminate values that you can't know unless you act or omit action. By itself a prophecy is just a cluster of words, it only becomes true if we chose to make it true." Harry looked at Neville and smiled. "It's all about our actions, but more importantly, our choices."
Neville smiled then for the first time since he'd arrived.
"My advice," Harry said, "forget about it. You and Hannah were the only ones to hear the prophecy, am I right?"
Neville nodded.
"Good." Harry sighed. "Only those you hear the prophecy first hand, or are involved in its foretellings, can speak it out loud. So please, forget about it, and for the love of god, burn that parchment."
Author's Note:
Thank you all for reading and please be sure to leave your review, good or bad it all helps. (If you do leave a review - and you're a registered member of - I will give you a cameo in my story. Cheers!
Firstly, I have tried to keep the story as canonical as I possibly could so there is very little AU (Alternate Universe) material. Things that are AU are things like the Hogwarts staff (since very little information is known about the 2017-2018 Hogwarts staff, you will see some characters that you recognize, and some that are in a new position but the spirit of the Hogwarts staff is the same as it has always been), I've also added some characters of my own creation which also make the story - just a little bit - AU. But besides that it's all as close to the canon as I could make it.
Secondly, while this story is rated T use your own personal discretion because some scenes do get kind of... dark. Not to give anything away but I would say 14+ is a good age for this fic, but again, use your own discretion.
Thirdly, this story is planned for 3 parts (much like this Author's Note), but things are subject to change, depending on your interest and mine. So leave those reviews, follow and favorite this story, if you want it to keep going. Anyway, I plan to write 1 maybe 2 chapters a month (as I do have a life outside of this - admittedly not much, this story is starting to consume everything I do) but like I said before things are subject to change.
Now that we're through with the formalities, I'll be seeing you soon in chapter 1.