Harry Potter and all related characters are copyright J.K. Rowling. The Mark of the Beast is copyright me. Do not copy or change in any way without my permission.
Harry Potter and the Mark of the Beast Chapter 2: Shadows
By: DememntorGrl-Oooohhhh, what was with that shadow at the end of chapter one, huh? I don't even know, and I'm the author! Anyways, hope you enjoy. I'm going to TRY and make this chapter extra long. Thanks for reading! Please R/R!
-Oh yeah, and a friend of mine might be helping me write the story. Yay!
Oh, and here's some special notes to some people who reviewed the first chapter (my 1st reviews! I love you pplz!)
-Iggy 2000- thanks for the review, I'll try to read and review your story tomorrow!
-Erica Amidala- thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this part!
-PEZ- *blushing*Do you really like it? I hope so, cuz I thought it sucked=P I do intend to write more, and I hope you like it! Thanz for reviewing!
-Julie-Thanks for reading!
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Harry looked up at the blackened sky. Rain had started to fall; if he didn't get home quick he was going to get soaked. He broke into a run, hoisting his jacket over his head to keep dry. Lightning streaked across the sky as the rain came down harder, pelting him as he sprinted down the sidewalk. Where was he? He hastily took in his surroundings as best he could while running. Had he taken a wrong turn? This wasn't his neighborhood. He took shelter under a nearby tree overlooking a desolate graveyard. An old house on a nearby hill stood, looking vaguely familiar. The rain began to ease. He looked out over the graves. There was a graveyard not to far from his house; if he crossed to the other side he should see the main street that he had meant to end up on. He must have passed it in the rain. Looking up at the sky for threats of more rain, Harry set off between the rows of graves. He had been here before, but when? Suddenly he tripped over something in the grass. He pushed himself up off of the moist grass and looked to see what he had fallen over. His heart caught in his throat; his blood ran cold. It was a severed human hand. Panicking, he jumped to his feet and looked wildly around. A nearby tombstone stood out oddly, but the name couldn't be read due to the build up of dirt and moss on the tomb. Reaching over with a trembling hand he wiped at the layers of muck that covered the name. He felt a shock run through his numb body as he read the tombstone: Cedric Diggory. Died during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Suddenly the hand on the grave came alive, grabbing Harry's ankle. He went crashing to the ground. The soil below Harry was shifting; something was coming out of the grave. It was Cedric. Eyes rolling madly, mouth hanging open, Cedric pulled himself free of the soil. Reaching for Harry, he let out a hideous moan. Terrified, Harry clawed his way to his feet and ran, Cedric right behind him. He ran for the house on the hill nearby. Ripping the door open, he rushed up the stairs and toward a light at the end of the hallway. Someone must be home! They had to help him! He rushed into the room. A man sat in a chair by the fire. Harry stopped dead, unsure of what to say to the man, nor having the breath to say it. Without looking at Harry, the man spoke in a sharp voice, "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Think you can just invite yourself in, hmm? Well, speak up, boy!" Harry struggled to answer the man as he clutched a stitch in his side, gasping for breath. "There's someone after me..."
"He just wants to pay you back for what you did to him. You killed him, Harry, and now he wants revenge. As do I." Turning, the man was suddenly no more. Instead, a giant serpent sat in his place; it's venomous, red eyes gleaming wickedly in the light of the fire. It uncoiled itself and shot at him. He let out a scream as it struck him, knocking him over.
Harry struggled wildly to untangle himself from his bed covers. He had landed ungracefully on the floor in a heap of pillows and blankets. It was just a nightmare. Breathing heavily, he tried to compose himself as images of the nightmare ran through his head. The man in the chair, he hadn't looked like Voldemort, but he seemed familiar. Where had he seen him? A tapping on the window nearby brought him back from his thoughts. A minute owl, twittering madly, was jumping up and down with a note clutched in its talons. Harry opened the window to permit Pig, Ron's owl. Taking the letter from Pig, he opened it and read:
Dear Harry,
How're things? Everything's fine here. You're never going to believe this. Somehow, Fred and George got hold of a thousand galleons! *Harry smiled as he remembered giving the twins his prize money from the Tri-Wizard tournament. He hadn't wanted it, and the Weasleys needed it much more than he did.* They're going to use it next year to open up a joke shop. They've already spent a little bit of it, though. They even bought me some new dress robes! Have you heard any news from Sirius? I wonder what's going on. Hermione just sent me a letter about those murders in London! I wonder what could have done them? Mom talked to Dumbledore the other day to see if you could came stay with us, but for now it looks like your stuck there. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Sorry I couldn't write more, we're going out. Don't let the muggles get you down. Write if you need anything.
Ron
That's typical, Harry thought, furrowing his brow darkly as he folded up the letter and slipped it into a drawer in his desk. It looked like he was going to be stuck at the Dursley's all summer long. Well, he might as well get some homework done. Checking the clock he saw that it was eight o'clock. His Uncle would be up soon. Pulling out some fresh parchment and a quill, he began to work on his Potions essay: Discuss the uses of Asafoetida Powder in potions for exorcism, purification, and protection of phantoms and dark spirits. Also discuss how the smell can be dangerous to Humans. Sighing deeply, Harry pulled out his book 1000 MAGICAL HERBS AND FUNGI. He began reading a passage out of the book: Asafoetida Powder can be used for protection or exorcism of evil spirits when a concoction containing the magical powder is thrown into a fire or burned with incense along with magical rites (see the Bibliography for more information about Magical Rites). Harry's quill scratched back and forth across the parchment as he began his essay. A grunt in the next room followed by a loud thud, which caused the second floor of the house to shake, announced the awakening of Harry's cousin, Dudley. A series of aftershocks followed Dudley down the hall on his way to the bathroom, causing Harry to blotch his essay. Grumbling to himself, Harry attempted to cover his mistake. He could hear his Aunt and Uncle moving around as well. That's odd. It was a Saturday. Normally only his Uncle got up so early, out of habit. A knock on the door made Harry jump, blotching his homework again. His Aunt didn't wait for him to answer; she rushed into the room, fully dressed and in the process of putting her makeup on. "Come on, boy! We haven't got all day! Hurry up and get dressed!" she snapped irritably. "What's going on? What are we doing?" Harry was dumbfounded. They hadn't mentioned any of this to him. "WE'RE going to visit Aunt Marge. YOU'RE going to be staying with Ms. Figg. We'll be back tomorrow. Now hurry up and get dressed. And don't forget to get some clothes and your toothbrush, as you'll be staying the night. She'll be here any minute to pick you up." His Aunt marched out of the room, leaving Harry staring after her. Well, he would rather stay with Ms. Figg than go to Aunt Marge's.
Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself sitting on a couch in Ms. Figg's cat infested house, wondering if there was a place where he could do his homework without being discovered or disturbed. Ms. Figg had guests, once again, and they seemed to be the same ones from the previous day. They were gossiping merrily in the kitchen about.... broomsticks! Broomsticks?! What?! "Well yes, she used to have one of those old Shooting Stars, but the thing was so old it just gave out on her. She landed right in some Muggle's swimming pool. It was the funniest thing. Of course, we were worried that she'd gotten hurt, but she was just fine. The Muggles were in a state of shock, though; a grown woman wearing magenta robes riding a broomstick lands in their pool! They couldn't believe it," the woman's voice carried out to Harry in the Living Room as she related the story to the giggling ladies. Harry couldn't believe it. Could Ms. Figg be a witch? She had to be, but why had she never told him? A thought occurred. At the end of his previous year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had sent Sirius (much to Harry's dismay) out to gather support in their stand against Lord Voldemort. He remembered Dumbledore's words clearly as if he had just spoken them, "You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher-the old crowd." Could the Arabella Figg he spoke of be Ms. Figg? He didn't know her first name, but it started with an A. It could just be a coincidence, but still....it had to be her! He had to find out and how was his chance. The four ladies came out into the Living Room and seated themselves. Ms. Figg smiled at Harry, "What are you doing sitting all by yourself in here, hhhmmm? Oh, Rosemary, Donna, Alice, this is Harry. His Aunt and Uncle have gone out of town, and he's staying with me." They greeted him happily, recognition dawning on their glowing faces as he blushed and mumbled hello. It was now or never. "Ms. Figg?" he started uncertainly. "Yes, dear?" she smiled. "Are you a, uh, a..." the words caught in his throat as the four women watched him. "A witch, dear?" "Er, yeah." Harry was relieved. That was probably a yes. She nodded. "But how come you never told me?" he looked uncertainly at her. "Oh, well, since you didn't know about the Magical community before I really couldn't, and I haven't hardly seen you since you started at Hogwarts." she explained.
Harry was in for another surprise that day as he sat beneath a tree out back of the house. He had just finished his potions essay (Snape had given them two over the summer! TWO!) and was looking up at the sun as it slowly descended on the horizon. He glanced over at his backyard next door. Ms. Figg's yard seemed friendlier somehow. The cry of a bird rang out through the air. Looking up, he spotted a raven flying towards the tree he was seated under. Closer inspection told him that the raven was carrying something. It was a package from Sirius. A hasty note was scrawled on the side:
Harry,
How are you doing? I hope you're better than the last time we met. Here's a little early Birthday present since I won't have time next week to send it. I'm sorry, but I have to run now. Hoping to see you soon,
Sirius
Harry smiled as he thought of his Godfather. He really missed him, but was glad to know that he was okay. Opening the package, he found a book entitled SPELLS TO DEFEND YOU AGAINST THE UNKNOWN. Leave it to Sirius. There was also a long, thin container of what turned out to be special use-any-time-any-where-floo powder with a note on it: Harry, ONLY use this in an ABSOLUTE emergency! He set the presents aside and leaned against the tree (he really had a thing for trees. They were a nice place to sit and think.). The raven, finished with its delivery, took flight. He watched it fly off into the distance, its ebony shadow following along the ground. As the bird flew off towards the horizon, the shadow suddenly veered off course and headed back towards the house. Landing on the window, it watched the four women inside chatting and laughing over a copy of WITCH WEEKLY. The shadow disappeared in an instant.
"Arabella, what was that outside the window?" Rosemary got up from her seat, "I could have sworn I just saw a shadow of something watching us." Ms. Figg looked outside, "I didn't see anything...." "Maybe it was just my imagination...Oh dear! Look at the time! I'd better run or my husband will have a fit!" Rosemary hurried into the hall to grab her cloak. "We'd better go as well, Arabella," Alice stood up and brushed off her skirt. "Well, it was nice of you three to come and visit me. I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully." The three witches waved goodbye to Ms. Figg before disapparating. "Now where has that boy got to...Harry, come inside now, it's getting late." Harry gathered his package and walked inside. After a quick shower he hopped into bed.
"This is the WWN, the Wizard Wireless Network, the only Network to bring you all the latest from music and give you hourly news updates, weather forecasts, and advertisements on the latest products. And now for the news...One of our sources from the Ministry of Magic has informed us that three more mysterious murders have taken place. Three witches, unidentified at the moment, were found dead just outside of a shop on Diagon Alley last night. The murders apparently took place just after closing. "The three witches had just apparated," claims a nearby shop owner. "I was closing up, and they appeared. They were apparently heading for the Leaky Cauldron. I walked inside and went to the back of my shop. Several minutes later I heard screams coming from down the street. By the time I found them, they were all dead and whatever had done it had disappeared." Just like the other murders the Ministry has been investigating, the three women were completely mutilated leading Unspeakables to believe that an animal of some kind was responsible. The Ministry still has no leads or suspects, but many people believe all of these murders are somehow connected to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A lot of rumors have arisen lately that You-Know-Who has regained his powers and is slowly building his army back up. The Ministry dismisses such rumors, claiming that it is impossible."
"Whoa! Again!" Harry couldn't believe it. For the second morning in a row, he had woken up to find that several murders had taken place, and they had mentioned the murders that had appeared in the Muggle news as well! They had to be connected!
"I can't believe it! And they haven't even identified the bodies yet! How horrid!" Ms. Figg seemed shocked as well. "I wonder who those poor women could have been..."
Later that evening, Harry once again found himself back at the Dursley's. Everything seemed to always bring him back here. Luckily, Hedewig had returned with an answer from Hermione:
Dear Harry,
I was so relieved to get your letter. I've been on pins and needles all summer long, and I can't stand it when you and Ron go for a week or so without writing. I did hear about the murders; they were on the Wizard news as well as the Muggle news! The Daily Prophet has had a ton of articles about the murders as well as many strange disappearances. You-Know-Who has to be behind this! Have you heard from Sirius? I hope he's doing all right. I'm dying to know what task Dumbledore sent Snape on. Minister Fudge is still in denial about the whole thing. He refuses to believe that even the Death Eaters are active, even after what happened at the World Cup and at the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Anyway, I can't wait to see you. Write me once you get your school list and we'll try to get together with the Weasleys at Diagon Alley to get our school things. Crooshanks says hi. Take care of yourself, Harry. Love,
Hermione
It sounded like this year at Hogwarts was going to be interesting. With all that was going on, he was afraid that many of their normal privileges might be cancelled, such as Hogmseade visits, Quidditch, the freedom to go out on the grounds for anything but classes.... Harry once again lost himself in his thoughts. What could be killing all these people? And for what purpose? Whatever it was, it couldn't just be killing random people. He suddenly wished they would hurry up and identify all of those bodies; perhaps then some connection could be made. He wondered if the people killed outside of the cafe the previous day had all been Muggles. It sounded as though at least three of them had been Muggles as they had been employees at the cafe, but what about the other four? His head began to pound as he racked his brain for answers. He decided that the best thing to do would be to go to bed and worry about it in the morning. He whispered good night to Hedewig and slipped into his bed, falling asleep almost at once.
He didn't understand why in the world their base of operations for the present time had to be such a dump. The house was literally falling apart beneath them, but he dared not question his master. His master had his reasons for staying here, but it was none of his business. Wormtail looked around him, waiting for his master to call him into the room. The door suddenly flew open and out came that man. Wormtail didn't like him; he was arrogant, young, and his master liked him. The man had been sent out on all kinds of *important* missions while Wormtail merely got to sit around and take care of his master. Not that he minded, but he wanted to prove himself, to prove that he was loyal. He entered the room where his master stood, silhouetted against the firelight, deep in thought. Wormtail hesitated, and then spoke, "Master?" "Wormtail, when have you received any word from Lucius about when the others will be ready? I'm growing impatient; we're wasting our time," Voldemort's voice was quiet, yet Wormtail quivered at the poison in every word. "I haven't heard anything. They've...apparently run into some trouble getting more people. The, er, creature sometimes kills the people rather than bringing them back to us. We have to be careful, my Lord. The Ministry is getting suspicious." Wormtail backed away from his master, knowing what was coming. "I know. I've seen it on the Daily Prophet. It's been on the Muggle news as well. Minister Fudge is as ignorant and incompetent as all of you fools; he still is blinded to the truth. He has no idea that I've got my body back. He's in denial. This is an advantage, but you fools are giving him more and more clues as to my growing presence! Perhaps you need a reminder that failure will not be tolerated, hmmmm? Crucio!" Wormtail's screams echoed in the night as Voldemort laughed cruelly. Harry awoke, once again, on the floor. His scar was searing with pain; clutching it tightly, he prayed he hadn't woken anyone. Crawling back into bed, his scar still burning, he tried to recall his dream. Looking around his room, he considered writing to Sirius. Should he tell him? He tried to remember what Wormtail and Voldemort had been talking about as he grabbed his quill and some parchment from his desk. Dipping his quill into some ink, he prepared to write. Movement by his closet distracted him. His shadow had suddenly come alive; it was twisting and moving, growing larger and coming alive. It seemed to come out of the very darkness itself as it began growling at him, stepping towards the bed with its claws outstretched. Horrified, Harry slipped off of the bed and began edging towards his desk where his wand lay. The creature, which had been born from his shadow, was unlike anything he had ever seen. The very fires of hell in its eyes, born of the darkness, a wicked demon, it opened it's jaws wide letting out a hideous snarl. Just as Harry's hand closed around a long, thin object that had been laying on his desk, the beast launched itself at him. He swung his hand around, expecting to see his wand in his grasp; instead he found the container of special floo powder Sirius had given him. Sirius had said to use it only during an emergency and this certainly qualified. One more grab at his desk gave him his wand as he dodged the creature. It prepared to leap again. He tore the lid off of the floo powder, grabbed a pinch, threw it into the air above him, and yelled the first thing that came to mind: "The Burrow!" He coughed as he inhaled what had to be half of the floo powder in the air. He began to spin quickly and felt the familiar sick feeling he always got when traveling by floo powder. He landed flat in the grass. Getting up, he brushed himself off and took in his surroundings. One look was all he needed: this was definitely NOT the Burrow.
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Author's note: Oh my! Where is Harry? What is that creature in his bedroom? And what is up with all of the mysterious murders, huh? Keep reading to find out!
-DementorGrl
Harry Potter and the Mark of the Beast Chapter 2: Shadows
By: DememntorGrl-Oooohhhh, what was with that shadow at the end of chapter one, huh? I don't even know, and I'm the author! Anyways, hope you enjoy. I'm going to TRY and make this chapter extra long. Thanks for reading! Please R/R!
-Oh yeah, and a friend of mine might be helping me write the story. Yay!
Oh, and here's some special notes to some people who reviewed the first chapter (my 1st reviews! I love you pplz!)
-Iggy 2000- thanks for the review, I'll try to read and review your story tomorrow!
-Erica Amidala- thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this part!
-PEZ- *blushing*Do you really like it? I hope so, cuz I thought it sucked=P I do intend to write more, and I hope you like it! Thanz for reviewing!
-Julie-Thanks for reading!
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Harry looked up at the blackened sky. Rain had started to fall; if he didn't get home quick he was going to get soaked. He broke into a run, hoisting his jacket over his head to keep dry. Lightning streaked across the sky as the rain came down harder, pelting him as he sprinted down the sidewalk. Where was he? He hastily took in his surroundings as best he could while running. Had he taken a wrong turn? This wasn't his neighborhood. He took shelter under a nearby tree overlooking a desolate graveyard. An old house on a nearby hill stood, looking vaguely familiar. The rain began to ease. He looked out over the graves. There was a graveyard not to far from his house; if he crossed to the other side he should see the main street that he had meant to end up on. He must have passed it in the rain. Looking up at the sky for threats of more rain, Harry set off between the rows of graves. He had been here before, but when? Suddenly he tripped over something in the grass. He pushed himself up off of the moist grass and looked to see what he had fallen over. His heart caught in his throat; his blood ran cold. It was a severed human hand. Panicking, he jumped to his feet and looked wildly around. A nearby tombstone stood out oddly, but the name couldn't be read due to the build up of dirt and moss on the tomb. Reaching over with a trembling hand he wiped at the layers of muck that covered the name. He felt a shock run through his numb body as he read the tombstone: Cedric Diggory. Died during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Suddenly the hand on the grave came alive, grabbing Harry's ankle. He went crashing to the ground. The soil below Harry was shifting; something was coming out of the grave. It was Cedric. Eyes rolling madly, mouth hanging open, Cedric pulled himself free of the soil. Reaching for Harry, he let out a hideous moan. Terrified, Harry clawed his way to his feet and ran, Cedric right behind him. He ran for the house on the hill nearby. Ripping the door open, he rushed up the stairs and toward a light at the end of the hallway. Someone must be home! They had to help him! He rushed into the room. A man sat in a chair by the fire. Harry stopped dead, unsure of what to say to the man, nor having the breath to say it. Without looking at Harry, the man spoke in a sharp voice, "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Think you can just invite yourself in, hmm? Well, speak up, boy!" Harry struggled to answer the man as he clutched a stitch in his side, gasping for breath. "There's someone after me..."
"He just wants to pay you back for what you did to him. You killed him, Harry, and now he wants revenge. As do I." Turning, the man was suddenly no more. Instead, a giant serpent sat in his place; it's venomous, red eyes gleaming wickedly in the light of the fire. It uncoiled itself and shot at him. He let out a scream as it struck him, knocking him over.
Harry struggled wildly to untangle himself from his bed covers. He had landed ungracefully on the floor in a heap of pillows and blankets. It was just a nightmare. Breathing heavily, he tried to compose himself as images of the nightmare ran through his head. The man in the chair, he hadn't looked like Voldemort, but he seemed familiar. Where had he seen him? A tapping on the window nearby brought him back from his thoughts. A minute owl, twittering madly, was jumping up and down with a note clutched in its talons. Harry opened the window to permit Pig, Ron's owl. Taking the letter from Pig, he opened it and read:
Dear Harry,
How're things? Everything's fine here. You're never going to believe this. Somehow, Fred and George got hold of a thousand galleons! *Harry smiled as he remembered giving the twins his prize money from the Tri-Wizard tournament. He hadn't wanted it, and the Weasleys needed it much more than he did.* They're going to use it next year to open up a joke shop. They've already spent a little bit of it, though. They even bought me some new dress robes! Have you heard any news from Sirius? I wonder what's going on. Hermione just sent me a letter about those murders in London! I wonder what could have done them? Mom talked to Dumbledore the other day to see if you could came stay with us, but for now it looks like your stuck there. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Sorry I couldn't write more, we're going out. Don't let the muggles get you down. Write if you need anything.
Ron
That's typical, Harry thought, furrowing his brow darkly as he folded up the letter and slipped it into a drawer in his desk. It looked like he was going to be stuck at the Dursley's all summer long. Well, he might as well get some homework done. Checking the clock he saw that it was eight o'clock. His Uncle would be up soon. Pulling out some fresh parchment and a quill, he began to work on his Potions essay: Discuss the uses of Asafoetida Powder in potions for exorcism, purification, and protection of phantoms and dark spirits. Also discuss how the smell can be dangerous to Humans. Sighing deeply, Harry pulled out his book 1000 MAGICAL HERBS AND FUNGI. He began reading a passage out of the book: Asafoetida Powder can be used for protection or exorcism of evil spirits when a concoction containing the magical powder is thrown into a fire or burned with incense along with magical rites (see the Bibliography for more information about Magical Rites). Harry's quill scratched back and forth across the parchment as he began his essay. A grunt in the next room followed by a loud thud, which caused the second floor of the house to shake, announced the awakening of Harry's cousin, Dudley. A series of aftershocks followed Dudley down the hall on his way to the bathroom, causing Harry to blotch his essay. Grumbling to himself, Harry attempted to cover his mistake. He could hear his Aunt and Uncle moving around as well. That's odd. It was a Saturday. Normally only his Uncle got up so early, out of habit. A knock on the door made Harry jump, blotching his homework again. His Aunt didn't wait for him to answer; she rushed into the room, fully dressed and in the process of putting her makeup on. "Come on, boy! We haven't got all day! Hurry up and get dressed!" she snapped irritably. "What's going on? What are we doing?" Harry was dumbfounded. They hadn't mentioned any of this to him. "WE'RE going to visit Aunt Marge. YOU'RE going to be staying with Ms. Figg. We'll be back tomorrow. Now hurry up and get dressed. And don't forget to get some clothes and your toothbrush, as you'll be staying the night. She'll be here any minute to pick you up." His Aunt marched out of the room, leaving Harry staring after her. Well, he would rather stay with Ms. Figg than go to Aunt Marge's.
Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself sitting on a couch in Ms. Figg's cat infested house, wondering if there was a place where he could do his homework without being discovered or disturbed. Ms. Figg had guests, once again, and they seemed to be the same ones from the previous day. They were gossiping merrily in the kitchen about.... broomsticks! Broomsticks?! What?! "Well yes, she used to have one of those old Shooting Stars, but the thing was so old it just gave out on her. She landed right in some Muggle's swimming pool. It was the funniest thing. Of course, we were worried that she'd gotten hurt, but she was just fine. The Muggles were in a state of shock, though; a grown woman wearing magenta robes riding a broomstick lands in their pool! They couldn't believe it," the woman's voice carried out to Harry in the Living Room as she related the story to the giggling ladies. Harry couldn't believe it. Could Ms. Figg be a witch? She had to be, but why had she never told him? A thought occurred. At the end of his previous year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had sent Sirius (much to Harry's dismay) out to gather support in their stand against Lord Voldemort. He remembered Dumbledore's words clearly as if he had just spoken them, "You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher-the old crowd." Could the Arabella Figg he spoke of be Ms. Figg? He didn't know her first name, but it started with an A. It could just be a coincidence, but still....it had to be her! He had to find out and how was his chance. The four ladies came out into the Living Room and seated themselves. Ms. Figg smiled at Harry, "What are you doing sitting all by yourself in here, hhhmmm? Oh, Rosemary, Donna, Alice, this is Harry. His Aunt and Uncle have gone out of town, and he's staying with me." They greeted him happily, recognition dawning on their glowing faces as he blushed and mumbled hello. It was now or never. "Ms. Figg?" he started uncertainly. "Yes, dear?" she smiled. "Are you a, uh, a..." the words caught in his throat as the four women watched him. "A witch, dear?" "Er, yeah." Harry was relieved. That was probably a yes. She nodded. "But how come you never told me?" he looked uncertainly at her. "Oh, well, since you didn't know about the Magical community before I really couldn't, and I haven't hardly seen you since you started at Hogwarts." she explained.
Harry was in for another surprise that day as he sat beneath a tree out back of the house. He had just finished his potions essay (Snape had given them two over the summer! TWO!) and was looking up at the sun as it slowly descended on the horizon. He glanced over at his backyard next door. Ms. Figg's yard seemed friendlier somehow. The cry of a bird rang out through the air. Looking up, he spotted a raven flying towards the tree he was seated under. Closer inspection told him that the raven was carrying something. It was a package from Sirius. A hasty note was scrawled on the side:
Harry,
How are you doing? I hope you're better than the last time we met. Here's a little early Birthday present since I won't have time next week to send it. I'm sorry, but I have to run now. Hoping to see you soon,
Sirius
Harry smiled as he thought of his Godfather. He really missed him, but was glad to know that he was okay. Opening the package, he found a book entitled SPELLS TO DEFEND YOU AGAINST THE UNKNOWN. Leave it to Sirius. There was also a long, thin container of what turned out to be special use-any-time-any-where-floo powder with a note on it: Harry, ONLY use this in an ABSOLUTE emergency! He set the presents aside and leaned against the tree (he really had a thing for trees. They were a nice place to sit and think.). The raven, finished with its delivery, took flight. He watched it fly off into the distance, its ebony shadow following along the ground. As the bird flew off towards the horizon, the shadow suddenly veered off course and headed back towards the house. Landing on the window, it watched the four women inside chatting and laughing over a copy of WITCH WEEKLY. The shadow disappeared in an instant.
"Arabella, what was that outside the window?" Rosemary got up from her seat, "I could have sworn I just saw a shadow of something watching us." Ms. Figg looked outside, "I didn't see anything...." "Maybe it was just my imagination...Oh dear! Look at the time! I'd better run or my husband will have a fit!" Rosemary hurried into the hall to grab her cloak. "We'd better go as well, Arabella," Alice stood up and brushed off her skirt. "Well, it was nice of you three to come and visit me. I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully." The three witches waved goodbye to Ms. Figg before disapparating. "Now where has that boy got to...Harry, come inside now, it's getting late." Harry gathered his package and walked inside. After a quick shower he hopped into bed.
"This is the WWN, the Wizard Wireless Network, the only Network to bring you all the latest from music and give you hourly news updates, weather forecasts, and advertisements on the latest products. And now for the news...One of our sources from the Ministry of Magic has informed us that three more mysterious murders have taken place. Three witches, unidentified at the moment, were found dead just outside of a shop on Diagon Alley last night. The murders apparently took place just after closing. "The three witches had just apparated," claims a nearby shop owner. "I was closing up, and they appeared. They were apparently heading for the Leaky Cauldron. I walked inside and went to the back of my shop. Several minutes later I heard screams coming from down the street. By the time I found them, they were all dead and whatever had done it had disappeared." Just like the other murders the Ministry has been investigating, the three women were completely mutilated leading Unspeakables to believe that an animal of some kind was responsible. The Ministry still has no leads or suspects, but many people believe all of these murders are somehow connected to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A lot of rumors have arisen lately that You-Know-Who has regained his powers and is slowly building his army back up. The Ministry dismisses such rumors, claiming that it is impossible."
"Whoa! Again!" Harry couldn't believe it. For the second morning in a row, he had woken up to find that several murders had taken place, and they had mentioned the murders that had appeared in the Muggle news as well! They had to be connected!
"I can't believe it! And they haven't even identified the bodies yet! How horrid!" Ms. Figg seemed shocked as well. "I wonder who those poor women could have been..."
Later that evening, Harry once again found himself back at the Dursley's. Everything seemed to always bring him back here. Luckily, Hedewig had returned with an answer from Hermione:
Dear Harry,
I was so relieved to get your letter. I've been on pins and needles all summer long, and I can't stand it when you and Ron go for a week or so without writing. I did hear about the murders; they were on the Wizard news as well as the Muggle news! The Daily Prophet has had a ton of articles about the murders as well as many strange disappearances. You-Know-Who has to be behind this! Have you heard from Sirius? I hope he's doing all right. I'm dying to know what task Dumbledore sent Snape on. Minister Fudge is still in denial about the whole thing. He refuses to believe that even the Death Eaters are active, even after what happened at the World Cup and at the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Anyway, I can't wait to see you. Write me once you get your school list and we'll try to get together with the Weasleys at Diagon Alley to get our school things. Crooshanks says hi. Take care of yourself, Harry. Love,
Hermione
It sounded like this year at Hogwarts was going to be interesting. With all that was going on, he was afraid that many of their normal privileges might be cancelled, such as Hogmseade visits, Quidditch, the freedom to go out on the grounds for anything but classes.... Harry once again lost himself in his thoughts. What could be killing all these people? And for what purpose? Whatever it was, it couldn't just be killing random people. He suddenly wished they would hurry up and identify all of those bodies; perhaps then some connection could be made. He wondered if the people killed outside of the cafe the previous day had all been Muggles. It sounded as though at least three of them had been Muggles as they had been employees at the cafe, but what about the other four? His head began to pound as he racked his brain for answers. He decided that the best thing to do would be to go to bed and worry about it in the morning. He whispered good night to Hedewig and slipped into his bed, falling asleep almost at once.
He didn't understand why in the world their base of operations for the present time had to be such a dump. The house was literally falling apart beneath them, but he dared not question his master. His master had his reasons for staying here, but it was none of his business. Wormtail looked around him, waiting for his master to call him into the room. The door suddenly flew open and out came that man. Wormtail didn't like him; he was arrogant, young, and his master liked him. The man had been sent out on all kinds of *important* missions while Wormtail merely got to sit around and take care of his master. Not that he minded, but he wanted to prove himself, to prove that he was loyal. He entered the room where his master stood, silhouetted against the firelight, deep in thought. Wormtail hesitated, and then spoke, "Master?" "Wormtail, when have you received any word from Lucius about when the others will be ready? I'm growing impatient; we're wasting our time," Voldemort's voice was quiet, yet Wormtail quivered at the poison in every word. "I haven't heard anything. They've...apparently run into some trouble getting more people. The, er, creature sometimes kills the people rather than bringing them back to us. We have to be careful, my Lord. The Ministry is getting suspicious." Wormtail backed away from his master, knowing what was coming. "I know. I've seen it on the Daily Prophet. It's been on the Muggle news as well. Minister Fudge is as ignorant and incompetent as all of you fools; he still is blinded to the truth. He has no idea that I've got my body back. He's in denial. This is an advantage, but you fools are giving him more and more clues as to my growing presence! Perhaps you need a reminder that failure will not be tolerated, hmmmm? Crucio!" Wormtail's screams echoed in the night as Voldemort laughed cruelly. Harry awoke, once again, on the floor. His scar was searing with pain; clutching it tightly, he prayed he hadn't woken anyone. Crawling back into bed, his scar still burning, he tried to recall his dream. Looking around his room, he considered writing to Sirius. Should he tell him? He tried to remember what Wormtail and Voldemort had been talking about as he grabbed his quill and some parchment from his desk. Dipping his quill into some ink, he prepared to write. Movement by his closet distracted him. His shadow had suddenly come alive; it was twisting and moving, growing larger and coming alive. It seemed to come out of the very darkness itself as it began growling at him, stepping towards the bed with its claws outstretched. Horrified, Harry slipped off of the bed and began edging towards his desk where his wand lay. The creature, which had been born from his shadow, was unlike anything he had ever seen. The very fires of hell in its eyes, born of the darkness, a wicked demon, it opened it's jaws wide letting out a hideous snarl. Just as Harry's hand closed around a long, thin object that had been laying on his desk, the beast launched itself at him. He swung his hand around, expecting to see his wand in his grasp; instead he found the container of special floo powder Sirius had given him. Sirius had said to use it only during an emergency and this certainly qualified. One more grab at his desk gave him his wand as he dodged the creature. It prepared to leap again. He tore the lid off of the floo powder, grabbed a pinch, threw it into the air above him, and yelled the first thing that came to mind: "The Burrow!" He coughed as he inhaled what had to be half of the floo powder in the air. He began to spin quickly and felt the familiar sick feeling he always got when traveling by floo powder. He landed flat in the grass. Getting up, he brushed himself off and took in his surroundings. One look was all he needed: this was definitely NOT the Burrow.
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Author's note: Oh my! Where is Harry? What is that creature in his bedroom? And what is up with all of the mysterious murders, huh? Keep reading to find out!
-DementorGrl