~¤~ THE PROPHECY OF DRACO ~¤~
By Crimson Flame
Disclaimer:::
No not mine. Unless the esteemed JKR would like to sell it to me for um…let's see.. Ten dollars and 56 cents, a rubber ball and a feather….Don't you think that's a good deal??! No? Oh well..I tried..
Genre:::
It's mostly Mystery with a dash of Humor, a pinch of Drama and a hint of Romance
Rating:::
Um..I think it is PG-13
Spoilers:::
Um…a bit from each book, um maybe
Timeline:::
Not sure yet. For now, just assume it's as normal. Harry will be attending his seventh year.
Notes:::
This story slightly AU (Alternate Universe)…Just my frail attempts to justify certain situations...
It may progress to be a HP/DM story in future chapters but nothing excessive. (Just a little kissing, touching, hugging, blushing, etc.) Some may just view it as a feeling of er…camaraderie between two friends—er..enemies. It's totally a matter of perception. (Ya right…. The author herself is unconvinced on what she may write.) ^___^;; Hehehe. What I'm trying to say is please give this fic a chance even if you're an anti-slash reader.
I hope to keep them in-character, though I think at some point or another they will tend to be OOC. I'll be writing it from different POV's (point of views) trying to get into each character and find out what makes them tick. But it mostly will be from either Harry's or Draco's POV
So far I've not seen a fic like what I plan to write yet, so hopefully it will be original to say the least. However, it is inspired by the fic "Love in a Form of a Dragon" by FantasysAngel and the movie "Dragonheart", so you could expect to see some similarities.
This fic may span from 15-17 chapters, maybe more maybe less, but around there.
Key words:::
7th year, Harry, Draco, Voldermort, Prophecy, Dragons, New Powers (what else?^__^;;), etc.
Summary:::
A class assignment leads to the uncovering of an ancient prophecy, whispered freely among many beasts, yet rarely mentioned by any man. When the time comes, will Harry and Draco play their part in it or will they forge their own destinies…
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
"Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain,
Telling me just what a fool I've been,
I wish that it will go and let me cry in vain,
And let me be alone again…"
Rhythm of the Rain by The Carpenters
~¤ Chapter 1 ¤~
~¤ The strange conversation ¤~
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Another drop of rain fell from the windowsill onto the soaked earth below. I sat up in bed, looking out the open window lost in my own thoughts, not caring if part of the gentle falls should come through. For some reason or another, sleep had eluded me. Gazing at the midnight sky, now a seemingly impossible shade of black with dark ominous clouds above the horizon, my mind drifts away; for my body could not. Bars once again adorn the frame, effectively keeping others out. Or was it keeping me in? Most probably the latter. Closing my eyes for a moment, I searched for something else to concentrate on, desperate for an escape from this world.
The scent of freshly cut grass and newly formed tears. The feeling of cool damp winds on my warm skin. The sound of waterfalls, yet softer and sweeter. The breaths of fresh air filling my lungs. Everything that is rain became the focus of my thoughts.
As I sat there bathed in the glory that shrouds my senses, all my past worries and problems disappear. My cousin and his damn gang bullying me, my so-called gift of Parseltongue, my Godfather; who unfortunately is still on the run, the guilt at the death of a fellow schoolmate during my fourth year, an attempted runaway in my fifth year, Malfoy being made the Slytherin Quidditch Team Captain in the sixth, just to name few. Most of all the burden of 'saving the world' from Voldemort. For that one moment in time, they were gone, lost, and forgotten.
I sighed at my moment of Euphoria.
I hate the rain.
I blinked at the sudden thought that had interrupted my musings. It doesn't quite seem to be of my recent pondering, rather from some old memory that had been buried within me. It awoke a strange feeling inside of me, an odd mixture of bitter resentment and age-old fear. And then as sudden as it appeared, it vanished.
Strange.
I wonder.
Tearing my gaze from the outside world back into the reality, I looked at the old digital clock on the desk by the bed.
2:03 AM.
Shutting the window, I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes deciding that I needed at least a few hours of sleep before I wake up looking like a zombie tomorrow. Then just as I was about to drift away into dreams, I began to notice a soft murmuring sound apart from the usual 'buzz' of the downpour outside. It sounded like the voices of the only other occupants of no. 4 Privet Drive, engaged in a heated conversation. What are my dear aunt and uncle doing awake at this hour?
I wonder.
Curiosity killeth the Gryffindor? Should I risk severe punishment only to find that they are locked in an argument of who has more armpit hair? Should I risk death only to find that they are actually professional spies working for the British Government?
Yes.
Thoughts of Aunt Petunia holding up an armpit hair, insisting she has ONE more hair than my uncle and Uncle Vernon dressed up in a James Bond-like suit, only his were ripped at the sides with buttons at the front threatening to pop and fly to Timbuktu by the sheer force of it, rushed through my now alert mind. Stifling a giggle and trying hard to push the images off my mind, trying very hard indeed, I made my way down the staircase as quietly as I possibly can. In noiseless strides that would have made Mrs. Norris jealous, I made it down the stairs and pinpointed the noise to be from the living room. Tip-toeing to the spot just by the doorway, I made sure that it was completely safe and out of any angle of view from the living room. Not daring to peek in and ruin it all, I settled instead to only listen to the midnight chat. I strained my ear to hear above the insistent rain outside and the crackling of the flames in the fireplace.
For a moment I panicked thinking that they had heard me coming because there was only silence. Just as I was about to turn my back and run for dear life, my aunt's shrill voice suddenly filled the air.
"Yes sir. Everything has been going on fine. We've managed to keep the boy in good health this few years."
Then, surprisingly there was a new, third voice in the room other than my family's, yet this voice was strangely familiar somehow. Male, with a hint of authority in each syllable. I know I've heard it somewhere before, I just can't seem to remember.
"Good. Have you been feeding your nephew well?"
Hmm. Not only is it a conversation at such an odd hour but it is also one about me. I wonder. Hmmm. I've been doing that a lot lately.
Uncle Vernon's heavy baritone kicked in.
"Yes sir. With my son away for the summers, we've had enough finance to cover for a balanced diet for the boy."
This statement is surprisingly true. Since my fifth year, Dudley has been away at camp every time I come home for the summer. The Dursleys have been providing me with good enough food, albeit not as good as Hogwarts, and starving me only a few times--usually after I accidentally used magic. I guess I really do add to their expenses. A little bit of guilt crawled into me. Perhaps I should compensate them for a bit? Nah. I think I covered only 0.000001% of their expenses then, with Dudley covering 98.999999% and 1% for my aunt and uncle.
"What of his other necessities? Clothing perhaps?" The stranger asked.
"The boy saw it fit to buy his own clothes. Hmmph. Teenagers nowadays."
"If you ask me, Dudley's clothes were much better for him." Aunt Petunia cut in after my uncle answered.
My jaw almost dropped to the floor. Oversized pajamas were better than a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting shirt? Hey. I'm 17 and quite rich for that matter. Of course I'll buy and wear my own clothes if I can.
"That will do. Tell me how are his feelings towards both of you and how do you feel about him?" The stranger added.
Oh this I gotta hear. They were silent for a moment, then Uncle Vernon barked out heartily.
"Hah…The ungrateful brat isn't really fond of us. After all the attention we give to his well-being since he was a child, I don't really see why not. He's always been blind to all the effort we put into him; probably thinks we're monsters from hell sent to punish him."
Well well, Uncle Vernon could read minds. I better take a note.
"Even if all we did was for his own good and for him to develop some useful skills, he probably hates us. For instance, I let him cook breakfast almost every time I can so that he could learn some culinary skills. Like operating the stove or using the pan. God knows where else he'll learn to handle those utensils."
Then Aunt Petunia softly muttered under her breath, "Damn Muggle inventions."
If my jaw were to drop any lower, it would be four feet underground. Did I just hear Aunt Petunia refer the stove and pan as 'damn Muggle inventions'? Maybe I've rubbed it off them. I've been known to shout it out once in a while when I was frustrated at some machine—the lawn mower for instance.
"Excuse me?"
Aunt Petunia quickly said that it was nothing.
"As for how we feel about the kid, it's strictly professional. We don't adore him. We don't shower him with unconditional love nor do we treat him like a tramp by the street. We were given a duty to watch over him and to take responsibility for his development and well-being. And we have done that sir. Nothing more. Nothing Less. There was no need to get attached."
My eyes narrowed at that statement. No comment. Though I was expecting something along the line of 'I absolutely despise that little monster' or 'I wish he had never been born'.
The stranger's voice gave out a steady 'hmm' as though he was deep in thought and considering something important. Then he asked a question that was most unexpected to me.
"Has anything *strange* occurred in this household that could be related in one way or another to your nephew?"
"Ah..yes, now that you've mentioned it. I had almost forgotten. Even though I've kept him away from his destructive items ( I'm guessing that's my wand and all my other magic things ), he just seems to have a gift for messing things up."
"Vernon's sister, Marge was visiting during one summer when he was thirteen, and we were all having a wonderful lunch. Marge was merely discussing the methods of breeding dogs, when all of a sudden the wine glass she was holding exploded."
Aunt Petunia continued on to mention about Aunt Marge swelling up unexpectedly, the trip to the zoo when I was 11, and all the other times when I had accidentally used magic without knowing it. Why is she telling him all this? Won't he get suspicious? Maybe he already knows or has heard about all these things?
"You both do realize that this could all be due to the intense emotions he feels towards you." Mr. Stranger stated.
Yes. Intense resentment. Spending ten years in a cupboard does that to you.
"Perhaps. All those years spent in a cupboard, must result into something."
Whoa, make another note. Aunt Petunia could read minds too.
"I suppose so. Anyhow, I believe that's all for now. I'll keep you posted on the latest news and you two should give me the report as soon as possible. Is there anything you would like to add?"
"Yes sir. In addition to fulfilling our duties, we saw it fit to give him chores to do to give him the physical and mental exercise he needs. Otherwise, at his recent..ahem..schooling facility they don't work him hard enough. Nothing too strenuous of course. He has gained a lot from these valuable experiences and also…"
Ya right. If you call mowing the yard, painting the fence, running up and down the neighborhood to get the morning newspaper, hauling old boxes up into the attic, washing that damned car of his every three days, plus doing Dudley's mathematics and chemistry summer assignments, 'nothing too strenuous'. Hah! The only thing I seemed to have gained was nicely toned body and an improvement in my stamina. And through the chemistry homework, I think I'm getting better at understanding potions.
Then, sudden silence jerked me from my thoughts. Uncle Vernon had stopped midsentence.
Oops! Did I say 'hah' aloud? Please ignore me, please ignore me. I'm just a mouse, I'm just the wind, heck I'm just a damn bleeding cockroach! Anything! Just ignore me. Please. I silently prayed to all the holy ghosts and Merlins I know.
"YOU BOY!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF BED??!!"
Bugger.
Uncle Vernon stood there in front of me, just a stone's throw away looking much alike the angry black bulls from Spain. Gulping down a breath,I did what any reasonable wizard would do in this situation.
RUN!!!
So I ran in a speed I didn't think was possible—must be from all that running up and down the neighborhood---towards the safety behind a locked bedroom door.
Unfortunately for me, while making my way up the stairs I had to trip and fall down. Dazed for a moment from the impact of falling, I vaguely realize that my beefy uncle was gaining distance and was nearing just beyond an arms reach of me.
I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest and my mind shutting down. I panicked. It was then when my mind was empty, I felt a rush going through my body. I closed my eyes as a tingling sensation traveled down my spine, through my lifted arms and my open palms, ending at the tip of my fingers.
Impedimenta!
My mind shouted silently, acting through an ancient instinct forgotten by my conscious self. I held my arms up in defense waiting for the inevitable blow. But it never came.
Instead, the sight that greeted my reopened eyes was like a movie moving in slow-motion. Uncle Vernon was now moving in a speed that suited his wide and heavy form. Wasting no more time I jolted up to the bedroom and locked the door behind me.
Damn. I'm in trouble for sure this time. I used magic again. Miserable and exhausted, I made my way back to bed and fell right away into dreamless sleep, the strange conversation already forgotten--replaced by the worry of expulsion.
¤
I spent the next three days excluded from meals. Surprise surprise. Oddly yet fortunately, no owls have arrived notifying me that I was expelled from Hogwarts. Quite the contrary in fact. I've just received a letter each from Ron and Hermione, plus one from Sirius, all asking about my condition and explaining the birthday presents that came along with them.
Then to my greatest relief, the letter containing the new semester's syllabus and book list from Hogwarts arrived the very next day. Perhaps the magic I've performed wasn't strong enough and no one noticed. Who knows? All in all I was aesthetically happy.
The last day I had to spend here at number 4, Privet Drive came in a breeze. I am most certain that I won't be returning here after my 7th year graduation nor would the Dursleys welcome me with open arms if I did.
Uncle Vernon drove me for the last time to the Leaky Cauldron in Muggle London. As I gathered the trunk containing everything I ever had off the boot, my uncle grabbed my arms and leaned closer as if to whisper a secret into my ear.
"Now listen to me boy. Forget everything you've heard that night. Don't think that just because a social worker came to have a chat with us means you can do whatever you like. My family has been fine with you and now it's going to get better without you. Don't you dare ruin it for us . Do you understand me?"
I blinked at him. Social worker? So that's who the mystery guy was.
Slowly I nodded and he let go of me. He stared at me for a moment trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Then he turned, went back into his car and drove away, out of my life forever.
As I made my way towards Diagon Alley, my mind was filled with happy thoughts and I had to refrain myself from skipping all the way there. However, something is nagging at me in the corner of my mind and not long ago the Sneakoscope in my pocket had begun spinning.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
Note: Impedimenta (im-ped-ih-MEN-tah ) == Stops an object or slows it down.
Info from: http://www.i2k.com/~svderark/lexicon/index-2.html
So? Opinions? Is it good?
It's gonna be a bit slow in the beginning, but each chapter will be important to the development of the plot, not to mention the characters.
I'll be updating in a week or so, coz you know Christmas is coming and all that. Plus I'm a really slow and fussy writer.
See you till then. Hopefully.
Ps:// This will be my first 'real' fanfic so please be gentle on the reviews and if you wanna flame, well just add it to my name. But do keep'em coming…The more reviews I get the more I feel inspired/pressured to update faster. Sadly I think I work better under pressure…^__^;;
So go on and press the little purplish blue button and make someone happy. And don't just press it mind you, leave me a review too.