As said in summary, this story takes place after the fourth book in the
Harry Potter series. I started this story two years ago, and have just
picked it up again to revise and finish it ^.^ I still have to figure out
the ending, and a middle, but I'm sure it'll come eventually. Any comments
would be really helpful to make this as good a story to my abilities, much
obliged in advanced. This is my first, so criticise, but be gentle! If the
writing is too compact do tell me, and I'll space it out more 'kay? Hi to
Foss-man if she sees this, you HP nutter, you *waves*
~Disclaimer~ All characters and HP plot line are the worthy property of J.K.Rowling. This is not the fifth book in the Harry Potter series, and should not be treated as such. Also, I will not claim responsibility for any injuries, or boredom, occurring as a result of reading my work. You have been warned!
Chapter One. Betrayal
It was dark, so dark. Harry opened his eyes and a terrifying sight met his eyes.
"No!!...Not you...!!" The hair's rose on the back of his neck, and he frantically went for his wand, but he couldn't move. He painfully pulled his limbs, all in vain, they wouldn't budge.
"I've got you at last Potter, no ghosts to save you now... there's no point in struggling. As you've realised by that look on your face, you are in a full body bind", cackled the figure that loomed from out of the darkness, Harry's nemesis, He Who Must Not Be Named. And from behind him stepped a small boy, a small boy with fair hair and a smirk on his face. Voldemort stood close to Harry, a hungry look in his eyes. His hand caressed the boy's face, the cruelly-long nails dug and blood trickled down his cheek. The tip of his forefinger rested on the scar, which twinged in protest. "Finally I shall dispose of you, the same as your parents, and it's all thanks to Malfoy here. But it wouldn't have been at all possible without the aid of your little friend of course..." The lips whispered a name. No, Harry had thought, that's not possible. They couldn't do this to me, they wouldn't! Lead fell into his stomach. There was no way out this time, and he didn't care anymore. He felt that Voldemort killing him would be a small mercy. Please let it be painless, he prayed.
"You're crying Potter", sneered Malfoy, "I told you four years ago, you should of stuck with me. Some friend eh?" But before Harry could hurl abuse back at that smug face, or figure out how he could kill Malfoy before his own death, Voldemort had raised his wand and screamed, "Crucio!" and an excruciating pain stabbed into Harry's forehead, his scar... his scar was burning
"AHHHHHH!" Then he was soaked. Soaked?
"What the...?" Harry gasped breathlessley. He blinked, there was a blurry vision of his chubby, hateful cousin holding a dripping toothmug. He tried to sit up, but decided to remain lying when his scar pinched with pain.
"What were you screaming for?" Dudley demanded his piggy face lighting up, a glint in his eye, a smirk of amusement.
"Nothin' Dudley. Go back to bed", said Harry quickly, "Go away"
"Oh no Harry, you were screaming about 'a nasty person trying to kill you' weren't you little baby??" he coochie cooed mockingly, "Maybe the bogie monster. Harry...?"
"What? Look shut up, and get out" he muttered angrily. Dudley continued to ignore him.
"Have you ever heard of 'insane' and 'psycho'? I think..." But Harry didn't get a chance to find out what he thought, because from downstairs came an all-too familiar yell.
"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE, NOW BOY!"
Harry gulped, Dudley asked, "What have you done now?"
"I don't know yet..."
Harry wondered what he could've done to make his Uncle so mad, again, as Dudley blundered down the stairs behind him, not wanting to miss anything.
This summer hadn't been any better then usual, but then Harry had got used to being the resident freak in his family by now. Harry wished he'd been able to spend the end of the holidays with his best friend Ron Weasley, but his parents didn't think this a good idea. This was because last term Harry had, for the fourth time, had once again survived a vicious attack from Lord Voldemort, whom the Wizarding community referred to in hush tones as 'You-Know-Who'. He Who Must Not Be Named had for eleven years caused so much terror that few dared to speak his name. His reign came to an abrupt end 15 years ago when he killed both of Harry's parents, yet failed to harm Harry. Lily Potter saved her son by sacrificing herself, a most powerful counter-curse. Voldemort's spell rebounded, and near dead, he fled, leaving Harry with only a lightning-scar.
Harry Potter became the most famous name in the magical world, yet his auntie and uncle, the most Muggle family to be found, kept Harry himself in the dark about his past and heritage. It wasn't until his eleventh birthday that Harry was rescued by a friendly half-giant called Hagrid, and started his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Twice since then Harry had come across the vengeful Voldemort in the form of a memory, or through another person, but both times Harry had managed to escape. However, last year Voldemort had managed to retrieve his body and power with the help of his servants. During the Triwizard Tournament that Harry had been tricked into entering he had been snatched away into Voldemort's clutches, and Harry finally fought the killer of his parents, face to face. He barely managed to escape, but not without the loss of another pupil, Cedric Diggory, Harry's friendly rival. With Voldemort back, Harry was in grave danger, and to Harry's disappointment Dumbledore - the headmaster at Hogwarts and possibly the greatest wizard of his time - agreed with Mr and Mrs Weasley that Harry should remain with the safety of the Dursleys until the beginning of term. Hermione Granger, Harry's other good friend, offered to purchase his school supplies along with her own in Diagon Alley. Although kind, it didn't help to raise his spirits.
"Ooh, what have you done now Harry? Dad sounds pretty mad, did you tell him about your scary, little, psycho dream then?!", he sniggered.
"Eat slime pig-in-a-wig", growled Harry as they approached the living room. Dudley shoved him aside as he paused nervously in front of the kitchen.
"Get in here boy!" he heard Uncle Vernon bark. He went into the kitchen to find Auntie Petunia looking peeved, her bony arms crossed, and Uncle Vernon looming over a tiny owl perched excitedly on a chair, only being held down by a single finger of Harry's uncle.
"Pig!"
"Don't you call my darling Dudley names! He's just got big bones.!"
"No, the owl, it's my friend's owl, it's called Pig", explained Harry
"Well, it bought you this letter, newspaper - not a normal one, your kind - and a package", growled Uncle Vernon
"Oh, thanks" breathed Harry in relief, going to make for the stairs with his package, Daily Prophet and Pig.
"Not so fast", said Vernon, blocking his way "I want you to open it, NOW!"
Damn! thought Harry, Should've known! Harry ripped open the package, it was a pot of glittery Floo Powder. He opened the letter, and instantly recognised his Godfather Sirius' neat handwriting and read out loud for his Uncle's benefit,
'Hello Harry, I hope you're well. Beaky and I are fine. Now, I know it's been your birthday-'
Harry had totally forgotten! Ron had given him some book on old wizard artefacts - freebie from his dad's work, the Ministry of Magic, Harry had guessed. Although a prestigious wizarding family, and a very nice one, Ron's family didn't have much money. There was also a cake from Mrs Weasley, a magic contraption from Hermione (Harry couldn't tell what it was for, but seeing as it was Hermione, probably useful). Some un-matching socks from Dobby, some rocks cakes from Hagrid (Harry wisely decided to not see if they lives up to their name), a new watch from Dumbledore, and a couple of cards, but nothing at all from Sirius. He had been running from the Ministry with Beaky, a hippogriff, ever since he had escaped from the wizard prison, for a crime he had been framed for, so Harry didn't get to see him much.
'-and thanks to a, um, 'helpful contact', (you can probably guess!)-'
"Dumbledore!" whispered Harry. The headmaster was the only one apart from Harry and his friends to believe Siruis' innocence.
'-I've recovered something I used to own, but have no longer use for. I thought you might like it. Just throw some Floo Powder on a fire and say 'Wizard's Floo Mail' and say it's from Snuffles, got it? Well, Happy Birthday, I think I'll be seeing you soon, love your godfather, Snuffles'
"What gift?" pondered Harry "And what does he mean 'seeing me soon'?
"Floo Powder? Gift? Explain Harry!", Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if it was totally unnatural for Harry to have a birthday with presents (well, he hadn't for 11 years). With a sigh, Harry reluctantly explained to the Dursley's what the letter meant. He slyly added,
"It's from my Godfather, you remember, the convict on the run?" Uncle Vernon gave the letter a panicky glare, and decided not to intervene in this present business. As they only had an electrical fire, he agreed to give Harry some money and to get the bus to Little Whinging Park, to make his fire away from Muggle eyes. He also handed Harry a box of matches,
"Anything to get you out of my house", said Uncle Vernon gruffly. "And that paper?"
Harry had forgotten his Daily Prophet, "Oh it's nothin' really, thanks, I'll go later"
He went to his room and put Pig in Hedwig's, his own snowy owl, cage. She was out so he couldn't write to Ron or Hermione. He looked briefly at his Daily Prophet, which he had subscribed to at the beginning of the holidays. Just some special deal on Wand polish, Rita Skeeter's resignation - Harry grinned - and an article about some stolen artefacts from the Wizards' Museum of Magic. Harry stuffed the paper into his suitcase for reading on the train tomorrow, when Harry would be going back to Hogwarts. Harry caught his scar in the mirror and, for the first time since Dudley had watered him, he thought about his dream. There was Voldemort, and Malfoy. Voldemort kills him and it was thanks to one of Harry friends, it was. But as it is with dreams, the more he grasped to remember it, the quicker it trickled away. From Harry's experience, his scar hurting was never a good sign. A friend betrays me. He shook his head.
"I'll tell Ron and Hermione tomorrow" he decided uncertainly and continued packing.
End of Chapter One....
~Disclaimer~ All characters and HP plot line are the worthy property of J.K.Rowling. This is not the fifth book in the Harry Potter series, and should not be treated as such. Also, I will not claim responsibility for any injuries, or boredom, occurring as a result of reading my work. You have been warned!
Chapter One. Betrayal
It was dark, so dark. Harry opened his eyes and a terrifying sight met his eyes.
"No!!...Not you...!!" The hair's rose on the back of his neck, and he frantically went for his wand, but he couldn't move. He painfully pulled his limbs, all in vain, they wouldn't budge.
"I've got you at last Potter, no ghosts to save you now... there's no point in struggling. As you've realised by that look on your face, you are in a full body bind", cackled the figure that loomed from out of the darkness, Harry's nemesis, He Who Must Not Be Named. And from behind him stepped a small boy, a small boy with fair hair and a smirk on his face. Voldemort stood close to Harry, a hungry look in his eyes. His hand caressed the boy's face, the cruelly-long nails dug and blood trickled down his cheek. The tip of his forefinger rested on the scar, which twinged in protest. "Finally I shall dispose of you, the same as your parents, and it's all thanks to Malfoy here. But it wouldn't have been at all possible without the aid of your little friend of course..." The lips whispered a name. No, Harry had thought, that's not possible. They couldn't do this to me, they wouldn't! Lead fell into his stomach. There was no way out this time, and he didn't care anymore. He felt that Voldemort killing him would be a small mercy. Please let it be painless, he prayed.
"You're crying Potter", sneered Malfoy, "I told you four years ago, you should of stuck with me. Some friend eh?" But before Harry could hurl abuse back at that smug face, or figure out how he could kill Malfoy before his own death, Voldemort had raised his wand and screamed, "Crucio!" and an excruciating pain stabbed into Harry's forehead, his scar... his scar was burning
"AHHHHHH!" Then he was soaked. Soaked?
"What the...?" Harry gasped breathlessley. He blinked, there was a blurry vision of his chubby, hateful cousin holding a dripping toothmug. He tried to sit up, but decided to remain lying when his scar pinched with pain.
"What were you screaming for?" Dudley demanded his piggy face lighting up, a glint in his eye, a smirk of amusement.
"Nothin' Dudley. Go back to bed", said Harry quickly, "Go away"
"Oh no Harry, you were screaming about 'a nasty person trying to kill you' weren't you little baby??" he coochie cooed mockingly, "Maybe the bogie monster. Harry...?"
"What? Look shut up, and get out" he muttered angrily. Dudley continued to ignore him.
"Have you ever heard of 'insane' and 'psycho'? I think..." But Harry didn't get a chance to find out what he thought, because from downstairs came an all-too familiar yell.
"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE, NOW BOY!"
Harry gulped, Dudley asked, "What have you done now?"
"I don't know yet..."
Harry wondered what he could've done to make his Uncle so mad, again, as Dudley blundered down the stairs behind him, not wanting to miss anything.
This summer hadn't been any better then usual, but then Harry had got used to being the resident freak in his family by now. Harry wished he'd been able to spend the end of the holidays with his best friend Ron Weasley, but his parents didn't think this a good idea. This was because last term Harry had, for the fourth time, had once again survived a vicious attack from Lord Voldemort, whom the Wizarding community referred to in hush tones as 'You-Know-Who'. He Who Must Not Be Named had for eleven years caused so much terror that few dared to speak his name. His reign came to an abrupt end 15 years ago when he killed both of Harry's parents, yet failed to harm Harry. Lily Potter saved her son by sacrificing herself, a most powerful counter-curse. Voldemort's spell rebounded, and near dead, he fled, leaving Harry with only a lightning-scar.
Harry Potter became the most famous name in the magical world, yet his auntie and uncle, the most Muggle family to be found, kept Harry himself in the dark about his past and heritage. It wasn't until his eleventh birthday that Harry was rescued by a friendly half-giant called Hagrid, and started his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Twice since then Harry had come across the vengeful Voldemort in the form of a memory, or through another person, but both times Harry had managed to escape. However, last year Voldemort had managed to retrieve his body and power with the help of his servants. During the Triwizard Tournament that Harry had been tricked into entering he had been snatched away into Voldemort's clutches, and Harry finally fought the killer of his parents, face to face. He barely managed to escape, but not without the loss of another pupil, Cedric Diggory, Harry's friendly rival. With Voldemort back, Harry was in grave danger, and to Harry's disappointment Dumbledore - the headmaster at Hogwarts and possibly the greatest wizard of his time - agreed with Mr and Mrs Weasley that Harry should remain with the safety of the Dursleys until the beginning of term. Hermione Granger, Harry's other good friend, offered to purchase his school supplies along with her own in Diagon Alley. Although kind, it didn't help to raise his spirits.
"Ooh, what have you done now Harry? Dad sounds pretty mad, did you tell him about your scary, little, psycho dream then?!", he sniggered.
"Eat slime pig-in-a-wig", growled Harry as they approached the living room. Dudley shoved him aside as he paused nervously in front of the kitchen.
"Get in here boy!" he heard Uncle Vernon bark. He went into the kitchen to find Auntie Petunia looking peeved, her bony arms crossed, and Uncle Vernon looming over a tiny owl perched excitedly on a chair, only being held down by a single finger of Harry's uncle.
"Pig!"
"Don't you call my darling Dudley names! He's just got big bones.!"
"No, the owl, it's my friend's owl, it's called Pig", explained Harry
"Well, it bought you this letter, newspaper - not a normal one, your kind - and a package", growled Uncle Vernon
"Oh, thanks" breathed Harry in relief, going to make for the stairs with his package, Daily Prophet and Pig.
"Not so fast", said Vernon, blocking his way "I want you to open it, NOW!"
Damn! thought Harry, Should've known! Harry ripped open the package, it was a pot of glittery Floo Powder. He opened the letter, and instantly recognised his Godfather Sirius' neat handwriting and read out loud for his Uncle's benefit,
'Hello Harry, I hope you're well. Beaky and I are fine. Now, I know it's been your birthday-'
Harry had totally forgotten! Ron had given him some book on old wizard artefacts - freebie from his dad's work, the Ministry of Magic, Harry had guessed. Although a prestigious wizarding family, and a very nice one, Ron's family didn't have much money. There was also a cake from Mrs Weasley, a magic contraption from Hermione (Harry couldn't tell what it was for, but seeing as it was Hermione, probably useful). Some un-matching socks from Dobby, some rocks cakes from Hagrid (Harry wisely decided to not see if they lives up to their name), a new watch from Dumbledore, and a couple of cards, but nothing at all from Sirius. He had been running from the Ministry with Beaky, a hippogriff, ever since he had escaped from the wizard prison, for a crime he had been framed for, so Harry didn't get to see him much.
'-and thanks to a, um, 'helpful contact', (you can probably guess!)-'
"Dumbledore!" whispered Harry. The headmaster was the only one apart from Harry and his friends to believe Siruis' innocence.
'-I've recovered something I used to own, but have no longer use for. I thought you might like it. Just throw some Floo Powder on a fire and say 'Wizard's Floo Mail' and say it's from Snuffles, got it? Well, Happy Birthday, I think I'll be seeing you soon, love your godfather, Snuffles'
"What gift?" pondered Harry "And what does he mean 'seeing me soon'?
"Floo Powder? Gift? Explain Harry!", Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if it was totally unnatural for Harry to have a birthday with presents (well, he hadn't for 11 years). With a sigh, Harry reluctantly explained to the Dursley's what the letter meant. He slyly added,
"It's from my Godfather, you remember, the convict on the run?" Uncle Vernon gave the letter a panicky glare, and decided not to intervene in this present business. As they only had an electrical fire, he agreed to give Harry some money and to get the bus to Little Whinging Park, to make his fire away from Muggle eyes. He also handed Harry a box of matches,
"Anything to get you out of my house", said Uncle Vernon gruffly. "And that paper?"
Harry had forgotten his Daily Prophet, "Oh it's nothin' really, thanks, I'll go later"
He went to his room and put Pig in Hedwig's, his own snowy owl, cage. She was out so he couldn't write to Ron or Hermione. He looked briefly at his Daily Prophet, which he had subscribed to at the beginning of the holidays. Just some special deal on Wand polish, Rita Skeeter's resignation - Harry grinned - and an article about some stolen artefacts from the Wizards' Museum of Magic. Harry stuffed the paper into his suitcase for reading on the train tomorrow, when Harry would be going back to Hogwarts. Harry caught his scar in the mirror and, for the first time since Dudley had watered him, he thought about his dream. There was Voldemort, and Malfoy. Voldemort kills him and it was thanks to one of Harry friends, it was. But as it is with dreams, the more he grasped to remember it, the quicker it trickled away. From Harry's experience, his scar hurting was never a good sign. A friend betrays me. He shook his head.
"I'll tell Ron and Hermione tomorrow" he decided uncertainly and continued packing.
End of Chapter One....