Disclaimer: Same as always
A/N: Well, fan fiction finally started recognizing I was an author, by putting me in the Just-in. Yay. Maybe, people I don't know will finally be able to read this stuff, and review it, so I'll know if I should continue. Anywho, chapter 4.
Another A/N: Well, I realized chapters 4 and 5 were horrendously short as I was rewriting all the other chapters, I decided to combine the two. So here's the new combination.
Chapter Four: Deaths, Dreams, and Discussions
**beginning of letter**
Dear Harry,
Knowing you, you've probably already read my name before my letter. I know I would. I also know that this has come as a huge shock for you. Dumbledore has known of this capability for a few days now, but thought it best I tell you, instead of him. The reason why we can communicate (through letters only I'm afraid) is because Voldemort has somehow breached the world off the dead. He has as yet failed in his attempt to physically raise the dead, but he can now communicate with us. He has been meeting with certain abominations of the world's past (muggle and wizard alike) in order to raise the dead in his attempts to build the most fearsome army the world has ever seen.
Your parents dearly wanted to write to you as well, but as they have been dead for longer it is harder for them. So I am to pass along to you, the message that they love you dearly, and are so proud of the young man you've become; as am I. I have never begrudged my death to you, as it was you who gave me life, so neither should you blame yourself. You were the reason I lived, and it was only right that I was able to give my life for you. I could not have given my life in a better way, or for a better cause. You are important too the world to die so young, and you must fulfill the prophesy. If it is either you or him who will live, you should know who most people are rooting for. Also, do not blame yourself. It was Voldemort and his Death Eaters that killed me, not some imaginary folly you think you caused. One day we will all have our revenge. Give Voldemort Hell for us Harry! And find out what he's up to, that's why you are going to Durmstrang.
With Love and Affection Always,
Sirius
P.S.
We can not abuse this situation Harry. The ministry is not fully behind Dumbledore and the Order yet, and they may notice the owl's crossing over worlds and may attempt to shut it down before we are able to pin point Voldemort's plan. (One letter a week should be enough, and I will pass messages to and from your parents.) Your parents and I will always be watching you and loving you.
**end of letter**
Harry had to read it twice before he could even think about it. He also had to wipe away the beginnings of tears that were already clouding his vision. His mom. . . his dad. . . his godfather. . . were all a letter away.
* * * * * *
Fitful bouts of nervous sleep were all that met Harry that night. Though he could not clearly remember his multiple dreams through the hours of darkness, he always awoke sweaty and pale. When his eyes would finally pop open and released him from the nightly terrors, shabby walls and creepy shadows met his eyes. The large tree outside his window always swayed in the nocturnal breezes, casting eerie shadows on the wall, not to mention the scraping branches on the window. Normally these things would not bother the hero, but with Voldemort and the Death Eaters prowling around, some people have had to become as guarded as Mad-Eye Moody.
Desperate to keep his mind off the letters he could send to the world of the dead, Harry started thinking about his future. He had now seen other Aurors, and most were not as marked as Moody was. He had been giving the career definite thought, and when Professor McGonagall had given him her vote of confidence, he had redoubled his efforts in order to get the grades it would take to become an Auror.
Pleasant and normal teenage dreams flashed in the back of his eyelids as he dreamed he was famous for an accomplishment he could remember, and not a travesty of his past. He sighed in his sleep, pulled the blanket closer to his chin, gave a faint smile, and drifted off into the normalcy of a pleasant dream.
* * * * * *
As planned, the Weasley's came at 5 the very next day. If Harry was surprised that they were actually on time, it was nothing compared to the open staring and open mouths directed at Harry. It seemed he had forgotten about his new hair style in the wake of Sirius's letter from last night, but Ron and the twins couldn't help but notice. And notice they did.
"Oy! Harry! I say chap, your new do seems to have gotten away from you, then?" Fred jokingly asked. This remark was met by a round of laughter by the wizards (including Harry, who had regained most of his good humor in the face of leaving the Dursley's), and a look of utmost indignation from Aunt Petunia. It had been after all her handiwork that had transformed Harry into a blond.
"Well, I'll see you then" said Harry, completely lacking any and all grief what-so-ever. And with that, the Weasley's, Harry, and Harry's possessions disappeared with a flash of green flame. The Dursley's were once again left with soot and ash all over the floor, and a faint "The Burrow!" still resounding in the fireplace.
Harry's appearance at the Burrow triggered another bout of giggles from Hermione and Ginny, and a sympathetic tutting from Mrs. Weasley. Before the giggles could even become too rowdy, a flick of Mrs. Weasley's wand had fixed Harry's hair to normal. His nervous pat to his head, turned into a sigh of relief as he slumped into a proffered chair from Fred. Big Mistake.
"Sunken Sitters! It's our latest! It looks like a chair, but you fall right through!" George chortled, helping Harry up from the floor, while the other twin snickered appreciatively.
"I noticed." Harry mumbled, checking the subsequent chair for solidity.
What happened next was a typical day at The Burrow. Once again Harry had arrived on de-gnoming day. "Perhaps they save these for when I come' Harry thought idly before running out into the sunshine to join the gnome chucking contest.
It wasn't until after dinner that Harry was able to fill Ron and Hermione in on the recent happenings.
"Oh yes, we found out same day you did. We were ever so shocked, but of course, I explained it all in my letter. You DID read my letter, didn't you?" Hermione informed and inquired.
It was then Harry realized he hadn't. "No," Harry said, quite abashed, "I had so much going on then, it totally slipped my mind. I'm sorry"
"Ah, don't worry about it. Now what do you think Voldemort could be up to?"
Harry and Hermione then proceeded to have a passionate discussion of Voldemort's activities, with Ron suspiciously silent. When the other two noticed he was not adding to their conversation, they asked him about it.
"I was trying to remember something I heard at the last Order meeting, over the extendable ears. They said something abo-"
Ron was forcefully shut into silence by a heart breaking scream, emanating from downstairs.
A/N: REVIEW
A/N: Well, fan fiction finally started recognizing I was an author, by putting me in the Just-in. Yay. Maybe, people I don't know will finally be able to read this stuff, and review it, so I'll know if I should continue. Anywho, chapter 4.
Another A/N: Well, I realized chapters 4 and 5 were horrendously short as I was rewriting all the other chapters, I decided to combine the two. So here's the new combination.
Chapter Four: Deaths, Dreams, and Discussions
**beginning of letter**
Dear Harry,
Knowing you, you've probably already read my name before my letter. I know I would. I also know that this has come as a huge shock for you. Dumbledore has known of this capability for a few days now, but thought it best I tell you, instead of him. The reason why we can communicate (through letters only I'm afraid) is because Voldemort has somehow breached the world off the dead. He has as yet failed in his attempt to physically raise the dead, but he can now communicate with us. He has been meeting with certain abominations of the world's past (muggle and wizard alike) in order to raise the dead in his attempts to build the most fearsome army the world has ever seen.
Your parents dearly wanted to write to you as well, but as they have been dead for longer it is harder for them. So I am to pass along to you, the message that they love you dearly, and are so proud of the young man you've become; as am I. I have never begrudged my death to you, as it was you who gave me life, so neither should you blame yourself. You were the reason I lived, and it was only right that I was able to give my life for you. I could not have given my life in a better way, or for a better cause. You are important too the world to die so young, and you must fulfill the prophesy. If it is either you or him who will live, you should know who most people are rooting for. Also, do not blame yourself. It was Voldemort and his Death Eaters that killed me, not some imaginary folly you think you caused. One day we will all have our revenge. Give Voldemort Hell for us Harry! And find out what he's up to, that's why you are going to Durmstrang.
With Love and Affection Always,
Sirius
P.S.
We can not abuse this situation Harry. The ministry is not fully behind Dumbledore and the Order yet, and they may notice the owl's crossing over worlds and may attempt to shut it down before we are able to pin point Voldemort's plan. (One letter a week should be enough, and I will pass messages to and from your parents.) Your parents and I will always be watching you and loving you.
**end of letter**
Harry had to read it twice before he could even think about it. He also had to wipe away the beginnings of tears that were already clouding his vision. His mom. . . his dad. . . his godfather. . . were all a letter away.
* * * * * *
Fitful bouts of nervous sleep were all that met Harry that night. Though he could not clearly remember his multiple dreams through the hours of darkness, he always awoke sweaty and pale. When his eyes would finally pop open and released him from the nightly terrors, shabby walls and creepy shadows met his eyes. The large tree outside his window always swayed in the nocturnal breezes, casting eerie shadows on the wall, not to mention the scraping branches on the window. Normally these things would not bother the hero, but with Voldemort and the Death Eaters prowling around, some people have had to become as guarded as Mad-Eye Moody.
Desperate to keep his mind off the letters he could send to the world of the dead, Harry started thinking about his future. He had now seen other Aurors, and most were not as marked as Moody was. He had been giving the career definite thought, and when Professor McGonagall had given him her vote of confidence, he had redoubled his efforts in order to get the grades it would take to become an Auror.
Pleasant and normal teenage dreams flashed in the back of his eyelids as he dreamed he was famous for an accomplishment he could remember, and not a travesty of his past. He sighed in his sleep, pulled the blanket closer to his chin, gave a faint smile, and drifted off into the normalcy of a pleasant dream.
* * * * * *
As planned, the Weasley's came at 5 the very next day. If Harry was surprised that they were actually on time, it was nothing compared to the open staring and open mouths directed at Harry. It seemed he had forgotten about his new hair style in the wake of Sirius's letter from last night, but Ron and the twins couldn't help but notice. And notice they did.
"Oy! Harry! I say chap, your new do seems to have gotten away from you, then?" Fred jokingly asked. This remark was met by a round of laughter by the wizards (including Harry, who had regained most of his good humor in the face of leaving the Dursley's), and a look of utmost indignation from Aunt Petunia. It had been after all her handiwork that had transformed Harry into a blond.
"Well, I'll see you then" said Harry, completely lacking any and all grief what-so-ever. And with that, the Weasley's, Harry, and Harry's possessions disappeared with a flash of green flame. The Dursley's were once again left with soot and ash all over the floor, and a faint "The Burrow!" still resounding in the fireplace.
Harry's appearance at the Burrow triggered another bout of giggles from Hermione and Ginny, and a sympathetic tutting from Mrs. Weasley. Before the giggles could even become too rowdy, a flick of Mrs. Weasley's wand had fixed Harry's hair to normal. His nervous pat to his head, turned into a sigh of relief as he slumped into a proffered chair from Fred. Big Mistake.
"Sunken Sitters! It's our latest! It looks like a chair, but you fall right through!" George chortled, helping Harry up from the floor, while the other twin snickered appreciatively.
"I noticed." Harry mumbled, checking the subsequent chair for solidity.
What happened next was a typical day at The Burrow. Once again Harry had arrived on de-gnoming day. "Perhaps they save these for when I come' Harry thought idly before running out into the sunshine to join the gnome chucking contest.
It wasn't until after dinner that Harry was able to fill Ron and Hermione in on the recent happenings.
"Oh yes, we found out same day you did. We were ever so shocked, but of course, I explained it all in my letter. You DID read my letter, didn't you?" Hermione informed and inquired.
It was then Harry realized he hadn't. "No," Harry said, quite abashed, "I had so much going on then, it totally slipped my mind. I'm sorry"
"Ah, don't worry about it. Now what do you think Voldemort could be up to?"
Harry and Hermione then proceeded to have a passionate discussion of Voldemort's activities, with Ron suspiciously silent. When the other two noticed he was not adding to their conversation, they asked him about it.
"I was trying to remember something I heard at the last Order meeting, over the extendable ears. They said something abo-"
Ron was forcefully shut into silence by a heart breaking scream, emanating from downstairs.
A/N: REVIEW