"My heart is a gypsy - continuously searching for a home, fighting within itself, wondering whether it is weak or even right for that matter to be searching in the first place. Loneliness is what it feels like…"
Jenna Jameson
A Moments Notice
It had been a year since Lord Voldemort had returned. It had been unexpectedly quite and most of the Wizarding world thought that Michael was at minimum an attention seeking child and at worst a delusional nut case. Michael had been turned on before, but unlike second year he had no eye witnesses to his innocence; until Voldemort showed himself there would always be a shadow of a doubt. Michael knew not to be fooled though, it was just the quite before the storm.
Unfortunately for the Wizarding world, the storm had finally come.
Michael sat on the padded window sill looking out into the dark sky. For hours the twinkling stars seemed to mock him, but they were silent now. Everything was quite; even the castle, which was always so alive, seemed to be holding it's breath along with him.
He had been staring into the darkness for so long that he was slightly startled when he saw a faint light to the east. As the black velvet sky turned to gray, Michael could see the thick layer of mist that covered Hogwart's massive grounds. He only gave the dawning landscape a cursory glance before he once again became absorbed in his thoughts.
His family was fighting for their lives, and he was stuck behind a locked door in the headmaster's office.
The grey morning sky dissolved as the sun rose above the distant mountains. The rays of light broke though the wet mist and finally caressed the cold stone of the centuries old castle. Cherishing the warmth Michael closed his eyes and with a sigh he leaned his forehead on the glass.
Michael had been sitting in the headmaster's office for hours; he was waiting on news about the battle he knew had taken place at the Ministry. Time had slowed, and at times had seemed to stop; he couldn't believe that it was finally morning. The Generations of Hogwarts Headmasters had long ago fallen asleep—Michael's silent vigilance couldn't hold their attention— and the bright mourning light that shone against the walls of the office did not rouse them. Even though Michael could hear their soft snores the room was still.
A gentle voice suddenly broke the stillness.
"I expected you to be asleep." The headmaster queried, "Have you not slept at all my boy?"
"Sir!" Michael replied while getting to his feet surprised. "I needed to know what happened. To make sure everyone was safe."
Albus Dumbledore looked at his young student with sadness. He did not want to burden the child with news of the war but he heard the desolate tone of his voice and knew he was thinking about other family that he had lost. Albus knew withholding information would be torture for the boy and decided to put the child at ease.
He walked across the room and gently lowered himself behind his massive desk. With a sad smile he nodded and began. "No need to worry, your parents and uncles are safe. They are resting in their own quarters. There were a few casualties, but no one was killed. We were able to intercept the deatheaters and the prophecy is still in its place.
"Thanks to you, all is well. Now, you look dead on your feet. I know you have already finished your tests but you still need your sleep. Your mother will throw a fit when she finds out I left you here instead of sending you back to the dorms. Now off with you."
"Yes sir." Michael replied with relief. "And thank you, for telling me."
As Michael headed to the door he paused and turned back towards the headmaster to ask one more question that had been plaguing him.
"Sir?"
At hearing Michael's voice Albus raised his head and stared at the boy intently. "Yes my boy?"
Michael seemed to hesitate, but drew on his famed Gryffindor courage and asked, "Why did Voldemort want to lure me to the ministry? I wasn't marked by him, he knows this. I am not the child in the prophecy."
Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his face and sighed in contemplation. To Michael he seemed to wither in front of him and he realized how much the battle had taken out of the famed wizard. Finally Dumbledore opened his eyes and answered the question. "That may be true, Michael, but he won't risk going to the Ministry himself, and he wants that prophecy. Did you know that only those that a prophecy speaks of can touch it without going mad?"
Michael was thrown off by the non sequitur for a moment but wondering where the headmaster was going he quickly answered.
"No sir…"
"It is true. However, no one but the Unspeakables know the specifics of that little charm. Does it react to the true participants? Or who the Unpeakables believe it is about? If it is latter then you would be able to touch it. "
"And if it is the first?" Michael asked, dreading the answer.
"As you know Michael, the world still believes you to be the chosen one. You have defied Voldemort more then any other person alive excluding myself. Also, as far as we know the beginning of the prophecy has not yet been fulfilled and you are still one of the three candidates. You are a symbol of hope to the wizarding world and the biggest threat to the Dark Lord's power. Voldemort knows all this my boy, and he wants to get rid of you.
"It was believed that the prophecy was about you so you very well may be able to touch it without loosing your mind. If you had not been one of the subjects then you loosing your mind would have been an added benefit to Voldemort. He most likely felt that it was a good way to get rid of you while at the same time letting the world know that you are not the prophesied child."
"Good thing I didn't do something foolish then huh?" Michael said with a nervous laugh. "Voldemort could have the prophecy and I could be a permanent resident at Saint Mungos."
Dumbledore smiled at Michaels attempt to lighten the mood and then continued. "Yes, it was very fortunate that Mr. Black was visiting your father last night. You can be very impulsive when you think your family is in danger. I dread to think of the outcome if Madam Umbridge was still teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Yea," Michael scoffed. "I'm just glad I was able to get her sacked…"
"Now, Michael." Dumbledore interrupted.
"I know, I know." Michael replied with a smirk. "I should not talk bad about my teachers."
Albus Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard alive, returned Michael's smirk.
……..
It had been three weeks since Voldemort had revealed himself to the world and already people were going missing. Amelia Bones was lucky. The head of the Department of Law enforcement was a shoe in for minister and that put her in danger. If it hadn't been for intelligence that Severus Snape leaked to the order she might not have gotten away.
With these thoughts, James grabbed his wife's hand and apparated to Grimmauld Place. He raised his hand to knock but before his fist had even connected with the door it was yanked open and the couple was greeted by the grinning face of Sirius Black.
"Prongs ol' boy!" the animagus exclaimed. "So glad you could make it to my little get together, it is bound to be smashing…"
James could hear the sarcasm hidden behind his cheery exterior and knew that this war was already taking its toll on his friend. Sirius bowed the two of them in and while Lily rolled her eyes James replied. "Glad we could come mate. We wouldn't miss the fireworks for the world."
Before Sirius was able to say anything else they were interrupted by their former charms professor.
"Lily! I am so glad to see you again. Albus and I were just talking about you." Exclaimed Flitwick as he hurried towards the friends. Lily bent slightly and allowed the Charms Master to embrace her around the shoulders. "Congratulations on your new post, I am sure you will make a wonderful potions mistress…"
James broke out into a coughing fit
*cough*better *cough*then *cough*Snape *cough*
Lily sent a glare at her husband before replying to her former teacher. "Thank you professor that is too kind. I am looking forward to it though."
"No need to call me professor, I am your colleague now, call me Filius."
"Thank you, Filius." Lily replied graciously.
Not wanting to be left out James spoke up, "Yes, thank you Filius, your well wishes mean a lot to us."
With a playful glare, Flitwick waggled his finger at the Auror, "You young man, can still call me professor."
Lily couldn't help but laugh at the flabbergasted look on James' face and sent a smile at the mischievous charms master.
"Come on James," Lily laughed as she began to drag her stupefied husband away. "Let's go get a seat before the meeting starts."
As if to clear his head James shook his head and replied with a "Yes dear."
"Oh James," interrupted the tiny professor, "Have you been following the dueling circuit this year?"
"Unfortunately not." He replied. "With the tournament last year, Voldemort, and taking over DADA this past year I just haven't had the time. Why?"
Flitwick was so excited he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I thought you would like to know that James De Luca won the Jr. International Dueling Championship for the second year."
"James De Luca?" James asked curiously. "Is he the one who won last year?"
"Oh my James," interrupted Albus Dumbledore as the three walked into the library where the meeting would be held. "You really have not been following the sport these last few years."
"I have had a few more important matters on my mind." The father replied sarcastically. "You know with the threats towards my son?"
"Now, now James, we are not criticizing you." Dumbledore replied. "We just thought you might be interested in hearing about the duelist."
"Why? What is so important about him?"
"He is so interesting because he is an Italian…" Dumbledore began before being interrupted by James with a scoff.
"So?"
In excitement Flitwick answered James with a squeak. "An Italian Muggleborn!"
At the world Muggleborn James stopped abruptly causing his friend to walk into his back; he ignored Sirius' indignant curse. He was speechless. A Muggleborn— and Italian Muggleborn— won pureblood society's most prized title. Not once, but twice. James couldn't help but laugh in glee.
…..
More then thirty minutes later James was still laughing to himself when Albus Dumbledore spoke directly to the marauder.
"James, is there anything that we should know about in the Auror department?"
Sitting up straighter, James cleared his throat and began to report. "Amelia is back at work even though we believe there is a contract out on her life. We have doubled the security around her so that should help. As most of you know there have been six attacks since Voldemort returned and four more people went missing this weekend. We have also received reports that Lucius Malfoy has been seen leaving the country frequently. We believe that Voldemort is recruiting on the continent."
Though Albus hated hearing that more innocents had gone missing, it was the last bit of information that drew his attention. "Where?"
"He has taken trips to almost every country in the European Union, but he has gone to Italy multiple times."
With a sigh, the leader of the Order sagged into his chair and replied with a sigh, "We knew this would happen."
"What do you mean?" One of the newest recruits asked.
"Italy has always been more favorable towards anti-muggle sentiments." Dumbledore replied. "They most likely went to Voldemort themselves."
With a scoff James interrupted, "You mean Italian Muggleborns are treated worse then third class citizens."
There was immediate protest and exclamations of outrage. Dumbledore intervened before a debate could begin. "I am afraid that James is correct. In regards to Muggleborns Italy's laws and beliefs are quite archaic."
"Is there anyone there that could help us?" Lily directed her question toward the room in general, but the headmaster answered once again.
"There is someone." He thought aloud. "Maria Chevelle. She is an Italian Muggleborn who was educated at Beauxbatons. She returned to Italy and began her own school that would accept Muggleborns."
"When was this?" Flitwick asked.
"About ten years ago. In fact James De Luca is a student of hers. Her protégée in fact."
"Who?"
Hearing the growl coming from the corner Albus turned to his old friend and met the electric blue eye, "James and I were discussing dueling before the meeting began. James De Luca is the Jr. International dueling champion. He is also an Italian Muggleborn."
"I thought they didn't allow Muggleborns to compete?" Minerva McGonagall asked.
"They didn't until about five years ago." Dumbledore answered his deputy headmistress. "Madam Chevelle was really the one to see it accomplished. You see, she was a duelist in her school years. She was quite exceptional and she beat many of the French students who went on to win. Because she was a Muggleborn she could not compete on the Italian circuit though and you cannot compete on the International circuit unless you first compete on a national circuit.
"She pushed for the inclusion of all Muggleborns on the Italian circuit. The international pressure was extremely high and the Italian Dueling Board conceded. Maria Chevelle succeeded, but for her it was too late."
"Albus?" James interrupted with a smile. "Though this is very interesting, maybe we should get back on topic."
"Oh, yes. Madam Chevelle would make a wonderful alley, but I do not believe her influence with those in power is great enough. Also, having her actively help would only distract her from her work. I will send her a missive and a communication mirror but I do not see much coming from it."
……..
"Fool!" Voldemort hissed "Cant you do anything correct!"
"My lord." Lucius Malfoy pleaded, "I beg your forgiveness."
"You failed to get me the prophecy, you failed to kill that insufferable woman, and now you dare to interrupt me."
Voldemort's words were venomous and by the end he was towering over his servant in rage. His jaw was clenched and he gripped his wand so hard Malfoy was sure it would break. He swallowed his fear and bowing lower replied.
"My Lord, I am sorry. She knew we were coming. She had been warned." Malfoy head replied.
"A traitor you mean?" Voldemort asked with little doubt. He turned from his cowering servant and returned to his chair.
"Perhaps, My lord."
"You may be correct." Voldemort replied. "I will deal with this traitor though, forget it."
"As you wish, My Lord."
"Now, what is it you wished to tell me my slippery friend?" Voldemort hissed. "I do hope it is worth my time."
"I believe it is My Lord. I have brought my Italian contact. His name is Gino Lombardi and he wishes to join our cause, and he knows many others who wish this also. He requests an audience, if you will have him."
The Dark Lord stared at Lucius so intently that the aristocrat was sure Voldemort could see every intention. After what seemed like forever, the Dark Lord leaned back, smiled, and said, "Bring him to me."
With another bow of his head Malfoy replied "Yes, My Lord" and hurried out the room. He entered a moment later and was followed by another man. Gino Lombardi was tall, about 6"2' with a lean, muscular frame. His dark curly hair and dark eyes complimented his aristocratic features.
The two men walked the length of the room before they both dropped to their knees. Voldemort considered the newcomer for long moments before he finally spoke.
"You share many of my goals Gino, but why travel across the world to bow before an English man. What is it that you seek?"
"For years my Party has fought against the encroachment of the Mudbloods. I admit we are failing, My Lord. My government is bowing to the wants of other nations and it must be stopped. I have sixteen men who are willing to do anything to restore Pureblood honor and we believe you have the power to achieve this."
Voldemort stared into Lombardi's eyes for a long moment before a cruel smirk covered his face. "There is something you want though. Ask, and I will consider the request."
"You are too kind My Lord." Gino replied with another bow. "All we ask is that you take care of a slight nuisance. Something that I think you will agree is aligned with all of our goals."
At that moment the head of the Lombardi family raised his head to meet the eyes of a monster he had only heard about before know. The evil grin on the lipless face sent chills down even his back.
……………………………………
"You sure you will be okay?" Anthony asked for the fifth time. "I mean, you could come with us, you might get bored while I'm attending all of my father's meetings, but it's Paris, I bet you could find something to do."
Anthony finished his argument with a hopeful smile but James just shook his head.
"No, it's okay. Go learn the business with your father. Buone vacanze. I'm going to train with Madam Chevelle for the next month, so don't worry." James replied with a friendly punch to the shoulder, he continued with a devious smirk. "When you get back though, Rome won't know what hit it."
Anthony laughed but quickly sobered and with a nod of his head asked for a final time, "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Okay Amico." He said with a smile while grasping his friends arm. "I will see you in a month then, take care of your self."
"I will, now get going before you're late. Buon viaggio, have a safe journey."
With a final wave to his friend Anthony grabbed his Portkey and disappeared in a flash of light.
When James was finally able to blink the spots out of his eyes he sighed and turned towards the door. He wasn't lying to his friend, he was going to train with madam Chevelle, but it didn't make watching his friend leave any easier.
As he walked down the spacious corridor he couldn't help but hate the silence. It reminded him that he had no one to call his own. Just hours before the Accademia had been a hive of activity, now though it was eerily quiet. Other then the few students who were wards of the school and a few professors the Accademia was vacant. Every other student had gone home to their families.
James' mindless wondering finally led him to a large wooden door. Seeing where he was he couldn't help but smile before knocking lightly on the door. After only a moment there was a response from inside and James grasped the handle and pushed.
Once he cleared the door way James was greeted with a bright office and a beaming smile.
"Buongiorno!" Maria Chevelle exclaimed "I wondered how long it would take before you found your way here."
Now that School was officially over Maria Chevelle began to relax and addressed her student much more informally.
"I was saying bye to Anthony" James replied as he sat in his favorite overstuffed chair.
"Did he get off okay?" She asked as she came around her desk and sat on the couch that was across from the chair James sat in.
"Yea, he should be in Rome by now. He and his dad are catching a flight this afternoon. They'll be back in a month."
"What are your plans until then? You have to do something other then dueling?"
James grimaced at her playful tone.
"I was, ah, thinking about, ah…"
"Thinking about doing what?"
Finally deciding just to say it James took a deep breath and said, "I want to know who I am, if I have anyone."
"Why are you so embarrassed? You know I won't laugh." She soothed when she say James dismal, embarrassed, look. "Any luck so far?"
"No, I don't even know where to start. I know I am English, but that is about it. My age is a guess, and I have no clue what my birth name is, For all I know I was abandoned."
"You don't really believe that do you?"
Not wanting his mentor to see his despair James turned his head away. Maria knew how he felt though and it broke her heart. She got up from her seat and knelt in front of her student.
"James, Look at me. You are a wonderful young man, and any mother would be proud to call you her own. Never entertain the thought that no one ever loved you, and that you do not have people who care for you now."
Hearing the sincerity in her words James struggled not to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, all the while wishing the moisture in his eyes didn't betray his torment. Once he was sure the tears were gone he looked back up. "I know, I just can't help but feel lonely sometimes. I have no one to call my own. There is a hole in my heart and it's empty and I can't do anything about it."
Madam Chevelle wasn't sure what to say. After a moment of silence she rose to her feet and sat back on the couch. She finally asked a question which seemed out of place to James.
"Do you remember the first duel you lost?"
"Yea." He laughed. "I lost to Lombardi, and I threw one hell of a fit. I really hate loosing. "
"That you do." She smiled, remembering that moment. "But do you remember what I told you afterward?"
It took James a moment, but when he finally remembered, he gave her a sad smile and repeated what she had told him. "It is not always about winning, but about becoming better for it."
"Exactly." She replied. "I know that your life is difficult, and that sometimes you want to throw a fit, but remember what your difficulties teach you. And that they are the reason you are the man you are today. There is always going to be another mountain. It is not always about getting over the hill, but it is about the climb. Don't ever regret what you are, even if the forging was painful."
"You always make me feel like a petty child, you know that?" James asked with a smirk.
"Yes I do." She said with a smile. "It works though, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, Yeah it does."
"Good, now get out of here, I have paperwork to do and we are going to start training after lunch."
"Ouch!" He cringed playfully. "No break whatsoever?"
"What do you think I am giving you now? You do want to win again next year don't you?"
"Yea, Yea, I'm going." James got to his feet and began to head towards the exit. When he reached the door he turned around and looked at his mentor. "Grazie. You always make things better."
With a smile she shooed him out and replied, "It was nothing, now go."
With a soft laugh James shook his head and headed out the door. He headed back to his dorm to grab his notebook and headed outside. It was a beautiful day and he wanted to enjoy his 'break'. Something that Madam Chevelle said had given him an idea for a song, but before that he had to work through some of his emotions. He had a lot of thoughts going through his mind and he wanted to get something down on paper.
Not ten minutes later James sat upon the grass looking out onto the massive lawns that surrounded the Accademia. There was a soft breeze blowing through the trees and other then the sound of the leaves rustling it was silent. It was also lonely.
I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one and I walk alone
James was used to it. He was almost sixteen and he hadn't gone back to Saint Jeromes since he left for school in his first year. He always spent a few weeks with Anthony's family but his friend always accompanied his father on a business trip to Paris for the first three weeks of the summer holidays. He stayed busy with his training, but the emptiness of the school was just a reminder that he had no one.
James knew he shouldn't dwell on these thoughts, as Madam Chevelle said he had a lot of things going for him and a lot of people who cared about him. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. He had always felt this way and no matter how many people he was surrounded by he had always felt alone.
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a...
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah
Sure, his friends were like family to him and he would never give them up for anything, but he knew that there was more waiting for him. He was lucky, he had more opportunities then most orphans and he thanked God for that, but he couldn't help but want more.
A part of James always thought that he was destined to be alone; No one could want a Muggleborn, let alone an orphan Muggleborn. He wasn't even sure he could be part of a family now; he had never had anyone and he didn't think that he could deal with those feelings. James loved to learn, but he wasn't sure that he could learn to be part of a family. It just wasn't him.
I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone
Read between the lines
What's messed up and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk a...
He still wanted it though; someone to call his own. He wanted; no needed someone to fill the gaping hole in his heart. There had to be someone who would fight by his side? Someone that would love him unconditionally? He wasn't whole.
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah
Ah-ah, Ah-ah
I walk alone
I walk a...
Sometimes James wondered if he did have someone out there; Family that didn't know about him or couldn't find him and missed him. There was a hole in his soul that he knew could not be filled by a lover, there had to be someone to fill it though; a brother perhaps?
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a...
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone...
Finishing the last few lines of the song James closed his notebook, stood up and headed inside for lunch; he had a dueling session with Madam Chevelle and he would need the energy.
…………………………
Michael was bored. He was once again sitting in his bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place while his parents did work for the Order. There was a moment of excitement when a barn owl flew through his open window. He had opened his results with some excitement but having no one to share them with put a major damper on his enthusiasm.
O.W.L. Results for Michael Evan Potter
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS — O
POTIONS— E
TRANSFIGERATION— E
CHARMS— O
HERBOLOGY— E
ASTRONOMY— E
ARTHRITHMACY— N/A
ANCHIENT RUINS— E
CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES — O
DIVINATION— N/A
MUGGLE STUDIES— O
HISTORY OF MAGIC— A
INTRODUCTION TO MAGIC— N/A
OUTSTANDINGS: 4
EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS: 5
ACCEPTABLE: 1
10/13 POSSIBLE OWLS
With one last look at the parchment he crumpled the paper and threw it across the room. With a frustrated sigh Michael leaned his head back against the window. He usually would occupy himself with homework or his animals but since he hadn't been allowed to go over to the Weasley's he had already finished his work and he couldn't tend his animals because his parents wouldn't let him stay at home by himself. Instead he was stuck at his Godfather's home with nothing to do.
He knew why his parents wouldn't let him help, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. Michael hated feeling helpless and after the long summer of inactively he felt even more useless. Wasn't he the one that Voldemort wanted to kill? Wasn't most of the world looking to him to do something? Whether his parents liked it or not he was going to be involved in this war; his parents were naive if they thought he could avoid it, besides, he had already lost too much not to fight.
Thinking about his brother always brought conflicting emotions. On one hand he missed him terribly and would do anything for the chance to have him in his life again. There was also anger towards those that took him, and also towards Harry himself.
'He is alive so why hasn't he found his way home yet?'
Michael would always feel remorse for thinking those thoughts but it didn't keep them away. He also felt fear though.
'Why hasn't Harry contacted us? What could stop him?'
Michael wondered if he was still trapped somewhere and couldn't escape. Or worse, maybe he had forgotten about them and was living a life somewhere else.
'I wonder what he could be doing. Is he scared of the coming war? Or does he have no clue what is coming?'
In frustration Michael took his pillow and threw it at the door. It made little sound, but the action made him feel better. Not having anything else to do Michael lay down and decided to try and take a nap; his parents wouldn't be back for hours and he wanted to be up to greet them.
The moment his eyes closed and his breathing evened out Michael became aware of his surroundings. He was not in his bedroom at Sirius' house. It looked like he was in an old manor house. The windows were covered in heavy drapes and there was no furniture except for a high backed chair and a small table to the right of it.
The moment that Michael saw the familiar red eyes of the chair's occupant he knew he was not in a mere dream. He was in a vision and he did not think it was purposeful on the Dark Lord's part.
A hissing sound drew his attention to the monster across the room and Michael listened carefully.
"I have agreed to your request my friend." He whispered in a low voice towards a figured bowed at his feet.
"Thank you My Lord, you are most gracious." The man spoke with an accent that Michael couldn't quite place. "Destroying the school will send a message across the world. The Mudbloods will know fear once again."
"We will attack the school on the first of September after everyone has retired to bed." Voldemort exclaimed, then with a sinister smile he continued. "Blood shall seep through the stones and you will get your revenge."
Michael's first thought was Hogwarts; he never imagined another school could be the target. He was horrified to think of all his friends being hurt. He had time though; the attack wasn't planned for another week. They would be prepared. With that last thought Michael was able to force himself awake. He noticed the sun had set and that his parents would be back soon. He jumped to his feet and rushed to the door. He had to find someone so that they could warn the Headmaster. Voldemort was going to attack Hogwarts and they needed to stop it.
……………
Across the World James De Luca abruptly sat up in bed wide awake. Adrenalin from the dream was still coursing through his system and he was breathing hard. His body ached and he had no idea why. He looked to the clock on his side table and it read 10:48 PM.
It was September first and James had been sleeping less then an hour.
James dreamed quite often, but most of those were the normal dreams that everyone had, and if not they were scenes of what he thought could be memory; this was different though. It felt real, and like it was happening at that very moment. James had recognized numerous Italian Purebloods dressed in black cloaks and he was almost positive that the crimson eyed man was Lord Voldemort. The architecture was distinctly Roman.
James had never had a premonition through a dream before, and he didn't know what to think of it. He had learned long ago to listen to his gut though, and it was screaming that something bad was going to happen and it was going to happen very soon.
Hurrying, James kicked the covers off his legs and ran to the door. He had to warn Madam Chevelle. Voldemort and his Italian Death Eaters were about to Attack the Accademia.
A/N
Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. We went on vacation for two weeks and when I got back I had some troubles. I actually had most of the chapter written before I posted the last chapter but I had difficulty with a few scenes. I'm still not 100% happy but I figured you guys had waited long enough and I could always rewrite it later.
The song towards the end is Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams
For those of you who know who Jenna Jameson is her background has NOTHING to do with the story. I read the quote and I thought it fit perfect for this chapter.
Italian Translations
Amico- Friend
Buone vacanze- Have a good holiday
Buon viaggio- Have a safe journey
Buongiorno – Good Morning
Grazie – Thank you
Hope you enjoy, and for the MANY people reading this can't you leave this little author a note? It would be much appreciated. Toodles!
