~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~

Ok that was actually a very different cliffhanger... don't have any idea what it means (just kidding, I'm talking about you), but cool anyway. So that thing Dumbledore said about talking to Sirius... intriguing. Mark my words, Rowling and other unbelievers, WE HAVE NOT SEEN THE END OF SIRIUS!! Don't worry Sirius fans hes not gone forever! Unfortunately he's not making an appearance this chapter in particular. Why would he be? School's almost in session! (well actually a bit more on the evil letter first)

The Chamber of Secrets dream thingy from a few chapters ago? It's a theory. A big really impossible to explain theory... in connection (unfortunately, people) with the Green Flame Torch stuff (oh come on you cant have sixth year without those rumors.... unless HARRY is the torch and if he stares at someone they spontaneously combust... now that's an idea) . But its so coooooooooool! You'll get it when I write it and I don't want to spoil my own story... just Rowling's.

Ah... you are wondering why The Amazing Snorkack failed to update for like 3 or 4 days? I went on a camping trip with my day camp! I slept in a TENT! And I hiked 3 miles! Oh god! Well anyway, here is the chapter... really effed-up title, hope you, er, like it... can anyone tell I wrote the first half before the camping trip and the other half after? I can...

Is it just me or is it that theres no farting in real books? Or going to the bathroom? How long can book characters hold it in, man?? Or perhaps Hogwarts lacks bathrooms. The poor hygiene, I mean no deodorant, no showers, no sinks, no napkins, towels, toilets, toilet paper, THEY LIVE IN UHEALTHY CONDITIONS!

Funny Part of Book Five: *unfortunately it has come to a halt.... we'll just have to wait till the author can get her book back from her brother... rrrrrrgh*

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Chapter 7- Truly Scarred

Harry couldn't think. He knew that the letter he had just received was from Voldemort, or one of his followers. But Sirius. . . . Sirius had to be alive, he couldn't be dead. He was still so full of life and vitality in every memory, even when he had escaped Azkaban. Harry slumped to his knees and looked at the letter. The Dark Mark was fading fast into a pale red stamp on the page.

He felt sick with dread. What was Dumbledore going to say when he saw that letter? Sighing, Harry reached and tried touching the piece of paper. His scar stabbed with pain and he relinquished. Finally, he left the threat on the floor and headed up the stairs to where he had hidden the two letters previously, with the shattered mirror and melted knife, in a secret pocket in his trunk. He pulled them out and headed back to where the headmaster's office was.

Before he knocked with the majestic griffin knocker, he leaned against the door and listened. Through the thick burnished wood, he could hear Snape talking.

"Why am I bothered to give him Occlumency lessons? If you want to know what he's thinking then why don't you ask him yourself?"

"There is a matter of privacy involved. Voldemort is trying to use Harry by striking him where he knows the boy is most vulnerable, his loyalty to his friends," Dumbledore responded. "Sometimes, a man will not share everything he knows, and in times like these, we must know everything."

"The Dark Lord has successfully killed two of Potter's friends. We can only pray for Weasley, and especially Granger, they're sure to be next," Snape said. "It's true that now of all times it is especially useful to. . . . doubt people's trustworthiness. Potter could be hiding more than just these letters."

"I think that he knows well enough that if there's anything he's hiding from me, he will tell."

Harry reached up and knocked with the big griffin knocker. The doors opened. Harry walked in, scratching away at his reddened eyes. He put the letters on Dumbledore's desk and stood there, silently, while the Headmaster surveyed them. Snape didn't bother looking over Dumbledore's shoulder. Instead, he gazed about the room, as though he had never been in it before.

"Harry, these are not from Sirius."

"I guessed that," Harry said under his breath.

"Voldemort is trying to use you by playing on your emotions and personality. Most likely he believed he could get to you through Sirius, even though he is dead."

"So. . . . he's in my mind right now?"

"Not necessarily, Potter. He is having a hard time penetrating your mind for whatever reason, and he is trying to use outside forces to break into it. No doubt he was going to ask you for the prophecy. If he gets hold of that information, chances are very high that the entire wizard world will descend into chaos, and I for one do not wish for that to happen."

"Thank you, Severus." Dumbledore turned away from the Potions Master. "Harry, you can trust the Order with anything suspicious that is going on. If you do not wish to tell it to me personally, then you can contact Lupin or Tonks, or anyone else you feel more inclined to talk to, securely, with this."

The Headmaster held out a strange silver instrument that looked like an assortment of odd connecting metal twisted into a recognizable circle. Harry took it and looked at it, confused.

"Ah. . . . how does it work?"

"It will work on its own, if it is needed."

And I suppose there's no confidentiality involved, Harry thought dully, but aloud he said, "Er, thanks."

As soon as he made it to the common room, he sat down in a chair and examined the odd, plate-sized ring, poking it, shaking it, and trying whatever else to make it work. Nothing happened at all. Slightly dejected, Harry carried it up to the dormitory and stuck it in his trunk.

* * *

Harry was waiting at the carriages for Hermione, Ron, and Ginny on September 1st. At least a month had passed since the incident with the letters, and he had put it out of mind for his own sanity.

The second-through-seventh years flooded toward the thestral-drawn carriages, talking, laughing, and giving themselves the illusion of all being united. However much everyone tried to blend in with each other, they couldn't disguise a certain Harry gazed at the little second years, unable to imagine that he was once that short.

Someone elbowed Harry very hard in the arm. He looked up with confusion, which was quickly replaced with anger.

"Well, well, if it isn't the amazing Potter!" Malfoy drawled. He was flanked by five or six Slytherins, all of whom looked very dangerous and stupid.

Harry rubbed his upper arm, deciding not to give Malfoy anything to laugh about. He gave the Slytherin Prefect a very stony, serious look. "Listen, Malfoy, you're going about it all wrong. If you want popularity, why not give yourself a scar? Come on, right on the forehead. It'll hurt –"

Time seemed to slow down as Harry drew his wand and made several pronounced slashes in the air with it. A glowing lightning bolt faded into realistic pale scar tissue across Malfoy's already-pale forehead. Malfoy clapped a hand to it, his face screwed up in an effort not to show pain.

"But not as much as it'll hurt your pompous ego."

"Potter, I will personally skin you alive for this!"

"Harry, don't get into a fight!" Ginny whispered from behind his left shoulder. "Did you notice that people are staring?"

"No, no I didn't." Quietly, Harry ducked into the nearest empty carriage.

"Hermione and Ron had some important assignment from McGonagall. . . . if you're wondering where they are."

"I was."

"They wanted me to tell you they said 'hi' and Ron thought it was pretty dumb of them to keep you in the castle for a month on your own."

"Uh-huh." Harry stared out the window of the carriage. Despite only having two people inside, the door closed and it left. The scenery flit by in odd, colorful streaks.

They sat in silence for a while. The carriage rocked and swayed to the pattern of bumps in the road it traveled. Harry noticed he was becoming spaced out and shook his head to stop from spacing out.

"You don't think I'm a baby or anything, do you?" Ginny asked.

"What? No."

"I was just wondering, because. . . . I don't want to sound ten-years-old, but I still do like you. I hope that going out with Michael didn't offend you or anything. . . . but I like you for who you are, not what you did."

"Um. . . ." Harry felt positively cornered by this statement. He was less than thrilled with relationships now, and unfortunately Ginny seemed very into them. There was no right answer, he assumed fearfully. "Sure, then."

"Do you have something on your mind?"

"Yeah. . . . don't even bother asking though, it's impossible to explain."

The carriage rattled to a halt in front of the steps leading up to Hogwarts. Gratefully, Harry jumped out and tried to mix with the crowd, because, frankly, Ginny was just being creepy and she'd probably get over it in a few days or something. Harry needed moral support, he couldn't give it yet.

"Hello," said a very airy voice near him. He turned around sharply. Luna Lovegood, with her wide, glassy eyes, smiled back at him.

"Oh, hi, Luna." Everyone was starting to go through the doors of the Great Hall.

"We caught one!" she grinned.

"One what?"

"A snorkack! A real crumple-horned snorkack! I'll show you tomorrow morning, it's a Sunday. Meet me outside the library at ten. Bye," she waved, drifting away to the Ravenclaw table. Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table rather lonesomely, and ten minutes later Dumbledore stood to make a speech.

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This... chapter... is... HORRIBLE BEYOND WORDS!! OH GOD IT MAKES NO SENSE IT'S AWFUL IT'S KILLING BRAIN CELLS!! IT'S IT'S OHHHHHHHHHH IM SOOOOOO SORRY PEOPLE!!

Camping whacked out my brain... whooo.... I can't write well!! NOOOOOO!! But on the plus side, I got 102 reviews since last time I checked (uh 10 minutes ago) and I am making a large assumption that for a story that's only been alive for 2 weeks that's pretty good? Apparently theres some really good author who gets 2,000 reviews... ah... ruskbite.... and I think I'll over-set my goal for reviews. Come on people, tell a friend, tell all your friends! Lets set my aim for... 500 reviews by the end of the story, hm? Just kidding! If you like, then you review, and frankly if you like then I write more. It's a cycle.

There's a new slang at my camp... if you've got "permanent" PMS, then you have Harry Potter Attitude! Haha! Ok not funny, but still... eegh im gonna be talking about camp all the rest of the chapters huh? Lol, it does take up my weekdays for the next seven weeks.

Anything better to inform the viewers of? Oh right! I drew more pics on the overnight so I'll upload them onto my site really soon. Just be on the lookout for more pics, and remember, theres this cool form on my fanart page so you can talk to me without going to your email! It's REVOLUTIONARY!

Well, uh, it is.. why are you still reading this?