Chapter 2: Surprise

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't be writing this. Obviously. All of the characters belong to Queen Jo (aka J.K. Rowling). I've only written the plot of this particular story. Anyway, my name isn't Joanne, it's Nyla. So… er, yeah. Or maybe… J.K. Rowling wrote fanfiction under a different name to let us know what happened before Harry was born (Marauders Era), after the war, and the next gen. Ya never know, mate. (Please don't sue. I'm not worth the time and effort.)

He was on a mission, a mission to do what's right. A mission to return something that shouldn't have belonged to him but did. And no one was going to get in his way. Each step he took hurt, but when you're on a mission, stuff like that doesn't matter. Now, he wasn't assigned this mission. It was a self-imposed mission. The wind blew his untidy, raven-colored hair out of his face as he strode purposefully toward the white tomb. He didn't intentionally gain the Elder Wand. It just happened. The chain… Gellart Grindewald, Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, and finally Harry Potter.

Harry Potter wasn't an ordinary person. He was 'abnormal' as his aunt and uncle put it. You see, he was a wizard. But, he wasn't an ordinary wizard either. There was a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead and he was a Parselmouth. Neither of those contributors was normal, even for a wizard. The fact that he was most likely the most famous person in the Wizarding World didn't help either. He just defeated the darkest wizard after Grindewald.

Voldemort had no respect for anyone. Not even the only one he feared. Dumbledore's tomb was busted open. Harry felt unusually disturbed by this. He knelt down next to Dumbledore's body and carefully slipped the Elder Wand back to where it was before the bastard ripped it out of a dead man's hands. Suddenly, Harry's world succumbed to darkness.

"Hello Harry," a familiar voice said. It was strangely comforting but frustrating because he place where he'd heard the voice before! He turned around and saw a man that was thin, tall, and very old, judging by the silver hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long, purple robes with stars placed smartly on them, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His eyes, the color of the sky on a very nice day, were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. Harry realized that he was in Dumbledore's office. How did he get here? Wasn't he just—wasn't Dumbledore dead? Yes, he was. Harry witnessed his death with his own eyes.

"Professor?" Harry said, his voice cracking a little.

"Harry."

"What happened?"

"Well, Harry. If something is rightfully and legally yours you shall keep it."

"It's more trouble than it's worth," Harry repeated.

"I shall not be able to live with my-"

"Professor, you're already dead. How can you not live with yourself?" Dumbledore chuckled.

"Ah… the power of comic relief… it keeps me young…" Dumbledore said, shaking his head. Keep Dumbledore young… that's hilarious, Harry thought. "Alas, Harry, you must keep it, we wouldn't want another witch or wizard stealing it, now would we?"

"No, Professor," Harry replied.

"Please, Harry, call me 'Albus', I am not a professor—or Headmaster—anymore."

"Erm… all right, Pro- Albus." Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes shining.

"Now, might I suggest locking it in box only you—or shall is say, your partner,"the white-haired wizard said with a wink," –can get to."

"Erm… thanks, could you…erm by chance tell me the spell?"

"Of course, Harry. Fortiditis Potere."

"Thank you." And with that Harry's world went black and he came back to reality to find himself lying next to Dumbledore's tomb. He slipped the Elder Wand back in his pocket. Tap. Tap. Tap. He immediately whipped out his holly and phoenix feather wand. A Cutting Curse was at the tip of his tongue when he saw a mane of fiery red hair. Ginny Weasley was running toward him at full speed. She jumped—more liked pounced—on him like a lioness. She wrapped her legs around his waist and started kissing him.

"Don't-"a kiss "ever-" a kiss. "leave me-" a kiss "again-" another kiss "I swear-" a kiss "Harry-" an additional kiss "I thought-" a kiss "you were-" a kiss "dead-" and she ended it with a rather long snogging session that didn't involve a lot oxygen breathing. As they walked back to Hogwarts hand in hand Ginny asked Harry what he was doing near Dumbledore's tomb. He explained what he was doing and what Dumbledore said. "Holy shit," she exclaimed when he showed the Elder Wand. "Luna and Nyla were right!" (A/N: Yes I included myself in the story. This Muggle has always wanted to be a part of the wonderful Wizarding World [That alliteration!]! So sod off.)

"Who's Nyla?"

"Oh, she's a friend of mine and a person we recruited to be part of the D.A. She's wonderful at Quidditch. She can play all positions but she's best at Chaser-"

"How come she didn't try out?"

"She was too shy. But anyway, she's wonderful at playing Chaser, she helped Luna, Neville and I with defying the regime at Hogwarts, and she saved me Amycus Carrow." She said, suddenly deciding that her shoes were very interesting.

"What did the bastard try to do to you!" Harry asked, his temper rising.

"I don't wanna talk about it," she said barely above a whisper. Harry nodded in understanding. The sod was going to pay for whatever he did to make Ginny this uncomfortable.

Molly Weasley was worried. Ginny and Harry were missing. If they were together everything was fine. But if they weren't… it was worrisome. She whipped out her wand as she heard the portrait hole creak open. Whoever it was… she was ready. Harry and Ginny slipped inside the cramped room—hand in hand. She tip-toed over to them and gave them one of her infamous hugs. She hugged Ginny first and then squeezed Harry but stopped when he said: "Ow, ow, ow, ow…"

"I'm sorry, Harry, dear. Where does it hurt?" she whispered.

"Everywhere."

I'm proud. 1,157 words on Microsoft.

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