Summary: Harry Potter is about to start is sixth year at Hogwarts when a
very unexpected someone shows up on his doorstep giving him warnings and
asking him for help...
A/N: This is my first fic, so I'm sorry if it's horrible. All reviews are welcomed, but don't be too hard on me. :) Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. Harry Potter characters and things belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and some other companies I don't know the names of. The only things I own are the plot and anyone or anything or anyplace I make up.
Harry Potter and the Torch of Light
Chapter One – The Unexpected Visitor
There wasn't much excitement going on around Privet Drive. Toddlers were chasing each other bare-foot on the grass, men were mowing their lawns until each blade of grass was perfect, and women were chatting away with their neighbors or fixing the gardens. Harry Potter sat on a garden wall just outside of Number 4, and absent-mindedly pulled petals off of dandelions that were growing near where he was sitting.
Harry let out a small sigh, and took a deep breath of the mild breeze that was blowing through the trees. He threw aside the dandelion stem and lay down on his back. There were too many empty spaces in his heart now. No mother, no father, no godfather. His only remaining relatives were the Dursleys, but he had never considered them his family.
He didn't know how long he had been lying there on the garden wall, but when there was no sign of children screaming he decided it was the right time to go in and get washed up for dinner. When Harry walked into the living room, he could hear angry voices coming from the kitchen. He creped over to the closed kitchen door and quietly listen to what all the commotion was.
"Petunia, I do not trust him!"
"It's only for a few days, Vernon! What could he possibly do?"
"He's almost sixteen and you know about his abnormality!"
"He can't use magic outside of school or he will be expelled, and I doubt he would want to leave school!"
Harry was shocked. Aunt Petunia had just said 'magic' when she had forbid him to use that word under her roof. Eager to hear more, he moved closer to the door.
"Do not use that word! Someone could hear."
"Vernon, all I'm saying is Harry won't blow up the house while we're gone. It's only three days."
"All right, all right, he can stay here. But if he does anything to this house, I will lock him in his room until he has to go back to that school of his."
When Harry heard chairs being moved across the kitchen floor and footsteps he hurried over to the stairs and into his room. He sat down on his bed and the thought of being home without the Dursleys for three whole days raised his spirits slightly. It wasn't as good as getting away from Privet Drive completely, but at least he would still be away from the Dursleys.
There was a small knock on his door, so he got up and turned the doorknob. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon stepped into his bedroom and looked around the room for a moment. Uncle Vernon cleared his throat.
"Petunia, Dudley, and I are going away for a few days to visit Marge. We are allowing you to stay here, but if there is anything wrong with the house and we find out you've been doing any funny business when we return, you will be locked up in your room for the rest of the summer." Uncle Vernon glared at him.
"All right, I promise I won't do anything." Harry answered, glaring right back at him.
"Okay, well we're leaving in an hour because I'd rather travel at night, and we'll be back in three days, maybe more. There's enough food in the house for you to cook meals and such until we get home."
Harry nodded and he closed the door as they left, letting out a silent whoop while going over to his trunk. He searched through his trunk for parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. When he found everything he went over to his desk to write a letters to Ron and Hermione. Just as Harry unscrewed the cap to the bottle of ink, he heard a /i sound and looked over at his window and saw Hedwig fly in with two letters attached to her leg.
He smiled slightly and untied the letters from her leg and sat down on his bed to read them. Harry recognized the first one as Ron's untidy scrawl and opened it first:
Harry,
Hey, mate, how's your summer going so far? Still doing all right? I hope so. Mum and dad said you can come to the Burrow in about a week. They asked Dumbledore why you couldn't just come home with us right after we got off the train, but he said you needed to stay with the Muggles for a little while. Dad says he has his reasons.
Listen, I feel really bad about what happened in the Department of Mysteries, and I don't want you beating yourself up for it. It wasn't your fault, Harry, and if you want me to help you murder Bellatrix Lestrange, just ask. I'm sure Neville would also volunteer to help you as well.
Anyway, I've sent you a pouch of Floo powder and dad connected the Muggles' fireplace to the Floo Network incase you want to go to Diagon Alley or the Burrow. Ginny and I persuaded Dumbledore to let him connect it and it took about two weeks, but it was worth it. We don't want you to go mad with those Muggles and end up killing yourself with a quill and wind up having to share a toilet with Moaning Myrtle.
Well, write me back and maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley later on this week.
-Ron
Harry reached into the envelope and pulled out a purple pouch full of Floo powder. It wasn't his favorite way to travel, but he was glad he'd get the chance to go to Diagon Alley while the Dursleys were away. He put the letter and pouch aside and looked at the second letter Hedwig had brought. It was from Hermione.
Dear Harry,
How are you? How's your summer? I hope you're well and that you're enjoying the holidays. Mine is going nicely, and I've already finished all of my homework. Have you done any of yours yet? I know Ron hasn't started his; it's so obvious I don't even need to ask.
Harry, I want you to know that it wasn't your fault that Sirius passed away. He would've wanted to die fighting, and he was fighting to protect you. Sirius cared about you very much, and I know that wherever he is, he's proud that he fought for what he believed in. I do hope you're not having a hard time because of all of this.
On a happier note, can you meet Ron and me at Diagon Alley on Wednesday? Write back as soon as you can with an answer.
Love, Hermione
He let out a sigh and walked over to his desk to respond to their letters. No matter what anyone said to him, he couldn't stop believing it was his fault Sirius wasn't alive anymore. If he hadn't assumed his dream was reality, Sirius would still be alive.
Then again, Harry knew a lot of things about his connection with Voldemort now and about his parents, but wouldn't Dumbledore have told him anyway? He doubted he would have, because it took him five years to tell Harry everything. Harry heard Uncle Vernon calling his name from the stairs. He quickly got up and walked over to the door.
"Yes?"
"We're leaving now."
"All right, 'bye."
"Remember, no funny stuff while we're gone."
"Right."
He walked downstairs and decided he would write to Ron and Hermione later. When the Dursleys pulled out of the driveway, he went into the kitchen to find something to eat. After cooking some soup he found in the cabinet he went into his bedroom to get his books, parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink so he could get a start on his homework.
When he sat down in the kitchen and started flipping through his History of Magic book to look up the ban on flying carpets, there was a knock on the front door and he got up, curious of who would be knocking on his door at eight o'clock at night. His question was soon answered when he opened the door and came face-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy.
A/N: This is my first fic, so I'm sorry if it's horrible. All reviews are welcomed, but don't be too hard on me. :) Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. Harry Potter characters and things belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and some other companies I don't know the names of. The only things I own are the plot and anyone or anything or anyplace I make up.
Harry Potter and the Torch of Light
Chapter One – The Unexpected Visitor
There wasn't much excitement going on around Privet Drive. Toddlers were chasing each other bare-foot on the grass, men were mowing their lawns until each blade of grass was perfect, and women were chatting away with their neighbors or fixing the gardens. Harry Potter sat on a garden wall just outside of Number 4, and absent-mindedly pulled petals off of dandelions that were growing near where he was sitting.
Harry let out a small sigh, and took a deep breath of the mild breeze that was blowing through the trees. He threw aside the dandelion stem and lay down on his back. There were too many empty spaces in his heart now. No mother, no father, no godfather. His only remaining relatives were the Dursleys, but he had never considered them his family.
He didn't know how long he had been lying there on the garden wall, but when there was no sign of children screaming he decided it was the right time to go in and get washed up for dinner. When Harry walked into the living room, he could hear angry voices coming from the kitchen. He creped over to the closed kitchen door and quietly listen to what all the commotion was.
"Petunia, I do not trust him!"
"It's only for a few days, Vernon! What could he possibly do?"
"He's almost sixteen and you know about his abnormality!"
"He can't use magic outside of school or he will be expelled, and I doubt he would want to leave school!"
Harry was shocked. Aunt Petunia had just said 'magic' when she had forbid him to use that word under her roof. Eager to hear more, he moved closer to the door.
"Do not use that word! Someone could hear."
"Vernon, all I'm saying is Harry won't blow up the house while we're gone. It's only three days."
"All right, all right, he can stay here. But if he does anything to this house, I will lock him in his room until he has to go back to that school of his."
When Harry heard chairs being moved across the kitchen floor and footsteps he hurried over to the stairs and into his room. He sat down on his bed and the thought of being home without the Dursleys for three whole days raised his spirits slightly. It wasn't as good as getting away from Privet Drive completely, but at least he would still be away from the Dursleys.
There was a small knock on his door, so he got up and turned the doorknob. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon stepped into his bedroom and looked around the room for a moment. Uncle Vernon cleared his throat.
"Petunia, Dudley, and I are going away for a few days to visit Marge. We are allowing you to stay here, but if there is anything wrong with the house and we find out you've been doing any funny business when we return, you will be locked up in your room for the rest of the summer." Uncle Vernon glared at him.
"All right, I promise I won't do anything." Harry answered, glaring right back at him.
"Okay, well we're leaving in an hour because I'd rather travel at night, and we'll be back in three days, maybe more. There's enough food in the house for you to cook meals and such until we get home."
Harry nodded and he closed the door as they left, letting out a silent whoop while going over to his trunk. He searched through his trunk for parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. When he found everything he went over to his desk to write a letters to Ron and Hermione. Just as Harry unscrewed the cap to the bottle of ink, he heard a /i sound and looked over at his window and saw Hedwig fly in with two letters attached to her leg.
He smiled slightly and untied the letters from her leg and sat down on his bed to read them. Harry recognized the first one as Ron's untidy scrawl and opened it first:
Harry,
Hey, mate, how's your summer going so far? Still doing all right? I hope so. Mum and dad said you can come to the Burrow in about a week. They asked Dumbledore why you couldn't just come home with us right after we got off the train, but he said you needed to stay with the Muggles for a little while. Dad says he has his reasons.
Listen, I feel really bad about what happened in the Department of Mysteries, and I don't want you beating yourself up for it. It wasn't your fault, Harry, and if you want me to help you murder Bellatrix Lestrange, just ask. I'm sure Neville would also volunteer to help you as well.
Anyway, I've sent you a pouch of Floo powder and dad connected the Muggles' fireplace to the Floo Network incase you want to go to Diagon Alley or the Burrow. Ginny and I persuaded Dumbledore to let him connect it and it took about two weeks, but it was worth it. We don't want you to go mad with those Muggles and end up killing yourself with a quill and wind up having to share a toilet with Moaning Myrtle.
Well, write me back and maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley later on this week.
-Ron
Harry reached into the envelope and pulled out a purple pouch full of Floo powder. It wasn't his favorite way to travel, but he was glad he'd get the chance to go to Diagon Alley while the Dursleys were away. He put the letter and pouch aside and looked at the second letter Hedwig had brought. It was from Hermione.
Dear Harry,
How are you? How's your summer? I hope you're well and that you're enjoying the holidays. Mine is going nicely, and I've already finished all of my homework. Have you done any of yours yet? I know Ron hasn't started his; it's so obvious I don't even need to ask.
Harry, I want you to know that it wasn't your fault that Sirius passed away. He would've wanted to die fighting, and he was fighting to protect you. Sirius cared about you very much, and I know that wherever he is, he's proud that he fought for what he believed in. I do hope you're not having a hard time because of all of this.
On a happier note, can you meet Ron and me at Diagon Alley on Wednesday? Write back as soon as you can with an answer.
Love, Hermione
He let out a sigh and walked over to his desk to respond to their letters. No matter what anyone said to him, he couldn't stop believing it was his fault Sirius wasn't alive anymore. If he hadn't assumed his dream was reality, Sirius would still be alive.
Then again, Harry knew a lot of things about his connection with Voldemort now and about his parents, but wouldn't Dumbledore have told him anyway? He doubted he would have, because it took him five years to tell Harry everything. Harry heard Uncle Vernon calling his name from the stairs. He quickly got up and walked over to the door.
"Yes?"
"We're leaving now."
"All right, 'bye."
"Remember, no funny stuff while we're gone."
"Right."
He walked downstairs and decided he would write to Ron and Hermione later. When the Dursleys pulled out of the driveway, he went into the kitchen to find something to eat. After cooking some soup he found in the cabinet he went into his bedroom to get his books, parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink so he could get a start on his homework.
When he sat down in the kitchen and started flipping through his History of Magic book to look up the ban on flying carpets, there was a knock on the front door and he got up, curious of who would be knocking on his door at eight o'clock at night. His question was soon answered when he opened the door and came face-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy.