Chapter one - 4 Privet Drive
Harry Potter, the mighty wizard, the "boy who lived" was bored. But that was not what was bothering him. He remembered this time last year he had been worrying about the beginning of the war that the wizarding world had been scared of for fifteen years.
But now he knew that the war had already begun and there has already been a casualty. Could it be called a casualty? No matter what Albus Dumbledore the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry thought, he could not let go of the belief that the death of his Godfather was his fault.
A lot of things had happened over the past few days. Dumbledore allowed Harry a subscription to the Daily Prophet and hence Harry was much better acquainted with the news from the wizarding world. The Prophet had gone back to worshipping Harry as the greatest wizard since Dumbledore. The ministry was in tatters thanks to the cover up job of Cornelius Fudge "The Minister of Magic" and the trial of the late Sirius Black was reopened. The last news was of considerable interest to Harry. He knew in life or in death Sirius would have wanted his name to be cleared, so things looked good on that front.
But even that was not on Harry's mind right now. The primary news he looked for in the Prophet was not there. The only news there was about Death Eaters, was about an attack at a monastery in Asia
The reason it was thought to be a Death Eater attack was because a person, a monk, was killed and the dark mark was visible. It seemed that Voldemort had just disappeared from the face of the earth again and things were back to as normal as they could be in the wizarding world.
Harry knew that this was the calm before the storm, Voldemort was out there scheming. He could also understand why. He was the live spectator to the Dark Lords duel with Dumbledore. He had realized now the only reason Voldemort came out of that duel alive was because of the prophecy.
"THE DAMN PROPHECY!" Harry thought.
That was the root of all the problems. It was frustrating for Harry to sit back and wait for things to happen, he knew the final phase of this game. It will inevitably come down to him and Voldemort.
But the only thing worth waiting for was that no matter what the prophet thought of him he was no where near as powerful as Lord Voldemort.
Another thing that struck Harry as weird is that his nights were no longer intruded on by nightmares. They had been his regular companion last year and even in the first week of his summer holidays. Those nightmares consisted of Sirius falling through the Veil and then Voldemort would arrive and possess him forcing him to use the Killing Curse on his friends and the Weasleys.
He struggled in his sleep so much that he was scared to shut his eyes. Ron and Hermione had started to write to him again. The gist of their letters consisted of bickering about each other.
"I wonder when they will wise up to their feelings and admit to each other."
Indeed everyone in Hogwarts, except the concerned pair concerned, seemed to be aware of the true cause of their constant squabbling.
Another person who had kept writing to Harry almost daily over the Holiday was the youngest and the prettiest Weasley. Ginny did not seem to have any problems in communicating with him via owl. Her first letter came with the news that Percy had finally learnt where his true friends lie and had returned to his family. Harry had a feeling that there was more to the pompous ex Head Boy than met the eye. But since his return he had virtually donated his owl Hermes to Ginny. Harry found it strange how little he knew about the youngest Weasley yet how friendly she was to him.
"I suppose it runs in the Weasley family."
The Weasleys, they were one of the few good things left in his life. It was because of people like the Weasleys, Hermione, Remus Lupin, Tonks and his friends at Hogwarts Harry was still resolute to fight Voldemort to the end. A strong sense of revenge fuelled him. He wanted to avenge those slain and stand up for those alive for the side of good.
Another occurrence had come to Harry. Apart from resolute determination and courage he also needed the might to fight the Dark Side. He remembered the Cruciatus curse he used on Bellatrix Lestrange. How she had mocked her saying "you have to mean it". Harry's lips curled to semblance of a smile.
"Next time, Bellatrix, next time." He thought.
To fight the dark you have to hate them. And right now Harry's hatred toward the legions of the dark side matched his thirst for revenge against Voldemort. He had gone on a studying spree this past two weeks and had mugged up every possible book he could lay his hands on about wizardry.
His homework was finished before the end of the first week of his holidays. He wondered how delighted Hermione would be when she heard about his academic improvements. But now he had run out if study material he had borrowed from the library. It had been three days since he had written to the Order, requesting them to lend him something to sharpen his skills. He was frustrated at not being able to perform magic and practice whatever he had read.
He had written to Dumbledore expressing his frustration but heard a reply from the Order that Dumbledore had gone to Asia to investigate the attack. Apparently the ministry had not taken any interest in it so Dumbledore had taken it in his own hands.
"I wonder why the old man is so interested in it", Harry thought, "I mean he has the entire Order at his disposal, he could easily send someone to investigate. I thought he would be more interested in staying here in case Voldemort made his move."
"My dear Mr. Potter, things are not always as simple as they seem."
Harry was so shocked that he fell of his chair. He was alone in his room yet someone had spoken to him. Hearing voices in his head was not new to Harry. This was Voldemort's favourite game. But this voice was nothing like His.
"Oh I forgot you don't like voices in your head, well don't just stand there, look out your window and across the street."
Harry peered outside and was flabbergasted to see a tall dark skinned man in wizarding robes standing just outside his front lawn. Then in the blink of an eye the man disappeared.
Harry Potter, the mighty wizard, the "boy who lived" was bored. But that was not what was bothering him. He remembered this time last year he had been worrying about the beginning of the war that the wizarding world had been scared of for fifteen years.
But now he knew that the war had already begun and there has already been a casualty. Could it be called a casualty? No matter what Albus Dumbledore the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry thought, he could not let go of the belief that the death of his Godfather was his fault.
A lot of things had happened over the past few days. Dumbledore allowed Harry a subscription to the Daily Prophet and hence Harry was much better acquainted with the news from the wizarding world. The Prophet had gone back to worshipping Harry as the greatest wizard since Dumbledore. The ministry was in tatters thanks to the cover up job of Cornelius Fudge "The Minister of Magic" and the trial of the late Sirius Black was reopened. The last news was of considerable interest to Harry. He knew in life or in death Sirius would have wanted his name to be cleared, so things looked good on that front.
But even that was not on Harry's mind right now. The primary news he looked for in the Prophet was not there. The only news there was about Death Eaters, was about an attack at a monastery in Asia
The reason it was thought to be a Death Eater attack was because a person, a monk, was killed and the dark mark was visible. It seemed that Voldemort had just disappeared from the face of the earth again and things were back to as normal as they could be in the wizarding world.
Harry knew that this was the calm before the storm, Voldemort was out there scheming. He could also understand why. He was the live spectator to the Dark Lords duel with Dumbledore. He had realized now the only reason Voldemort came out of that duel alive was because of the prophecy.
"THE DAMN PROPHECY!" Harry thought.
That was the root of all the problems. It was frustrating for Harry to sit back and wait for things to happen, he knew the final phase of this game. It will inevitably come down to him and Voldemort.
But the only thing worth waiting for was that no matter what the prophet thought of him he was no where near as powerful as Lord Voldemort.
Another thing that struck Harry as weird is that his nights were no longer intruded on by nightmares. They had been his regular companion last year and even in the first week of his summer holidays. Those nightmares consisted of Sirius falling through the Veil and then Voldemort would arrive and possess him forcing him to use the Killing Curse on his friends and the Weasleys.
He struggled in his sleep so much that he was scared to shut his eyes. Ron and Hermione had started to write to him again. The gist of their letters consisted of bickering about each other.
"I wonder when they will wise up to their feelings and admit to each other."
Indeed everyone in Hogwarts, except the concerned pair concerned, seemed to be aware of the true cause of their constant squabbling.
Another person who had kept writing to Harry almost daily over the Holiday was the youngest and the prettiest Weasley. Ginny did not seem to have any problems in communicating with him via owl. Her first letter came with the news that Percy had finally learnt where his true friends lie and had returned to his family. Harry had a feeling that there was more to the pompous ex Head Boy than met the eye. But since his return he had virtually donated his owl Hermes to Ginny. Harry found it strange how little he knew about the youngest Weasley yet how friendly she was to him.
"I suppose it runs in the Weasley family."
The Weasleys, they were one of the few good things left in his life. It was because of people like the Weasleys, Hermione, Remus Lupin, Tonks and his friends at Hogwarts Harry was still resolute to fight Voldemort to the end. A strong sense of revenge fuelled him. He wanted to avenge those slain and stand up for those alive for the side of good.
Another occurrence had come to Harry. Apart from resolute determination and courage he also needed the might to fight the Dark Side. He remembered the Cruciatus curse he used on Bellatrix Lestrange. How she had mocked her saying "you have to mean it". Harry's lips curled to semblance of a smile.
"Next time, Bellatrix, next time." He thought.
To fight the dark you have to hate them. And right now Harry's hatred toward the legions of the dark side matched his thirst for revenge against Voldemort. He had gone on a studying spree this past two weeks and had mugged up every possible book he could lay his hands on about wizardry.
His homework was finished before the end of the first week of his holidays. He wondered how delighted Hermione would be when she heard about his academic improvements. But now he had run out if study material he had borrowed from the library. It had been three days since he had written to the Order, requesting them to lend him something to sharpen his skills. He was frustrated at not being able to perform magic and practice whatever he had read.
He had written to Dumbledore expressing his frustration but heard a reply from the Order that Dumbledore had gone to Asia to investigate the attack. Apparently the ministry had not taken any interest in it so Dumbledore had taken it in his own hands.
"I wonder why the old man is so interested in it", Harry thought, "I mean he has the entire Order at his disposal, he could easily send someone to investigate. I thought he would be more interested in staying here in case Voldemort made his move."
"My dear Mr. Potter, things are not always as simple as they seem."
Harry was so shocked that he fell of his chair. He was alone in his room yet someone had spoken to him. Hearing voices in his head was not new to Harry. This was Voldemort's favourite game. But this voice was nothing like His.
"Oh I forgot you don't like voices in your head, well don't just stand there, look out your window and across the street."
Harry peered outside and was flabbergasted to see a tall dark skinned man in wizarding robes standing just outside his front lawn. Then in the blink of an eye the man disappeared.