Harry Potter and the Second War

Kreyana

Disclaimer: Is my name Joanne Kathrine Rowling? It is?! Wow, and here I thought it was- :is handed a sheet of paper: ...damn. Well, whadda ya know? I really don't own Harry Potter. Too bad, huh? Then again, I guess it is a good thing...

Authors Note: This is my first major fic, and I really hope it's successful, because I just love it so much. It contains SLASH, and if you've been around here enough, you know that that means guy-on-guy love/action/whatever the hell else you want. It will take a while before the slash starts to really show up, but there will be hints! So don't bite my head off for saying it's slash and then not providing any.

Warnings: I did just say slash, right? Good, glad I'm not imagining things. There will be eventual gore, what with the impending war. And, obviously, romance of the Adult kind, but that will come later. Check my bio for the sites where you will be able to find the unedited chapters. Oh, yes, and there are a few issues with language...then again, it is an R fic. What did you expect?

Chapter: One out of many.

Dedicated to: Draco-n-Harry-Lover, for giving me inspiration for the end of this chapter.

- - - -

September the first fast approached, and with it, the beginning of yet another school year. To some, returning to school meant the end of freedom, the beginning of late night studies and mounds of work. To others, it meant another exciting chance at education. To Harry Potter, it meant the return home, to good friends and enemies alike.

To Harry Potter... September the first meant the escape from a terrible nightmare that has lasted for far too long.

That day, July 31st, was a special day for the sixteen-year-old, and not because it was his birthday. It was a special day because this day, Harry would be leaving the Dursley's home of number 4 Privet Drive in exchange for board in a small and overly occupied house known fondly as The Burrow.

- - - -

By ten forty-five AM on the morning of July the thirty-first, sixteen-year-old Harry James Potter sat impatiently on his small, uncomfortable bed in is equally small room on the second floor of his aunt and uncle Dursley's house. At the foot of the bed, his trunk lay, fully packed and locked, with Hedwig's cage sat upon it's top. The snowy-white owl watched her master and friend with curious eyes as the young man's emerald gaze lingered eagerly on the open window.

Throughout the room, not a single item belonging to the thin, black-haired boy remained.

Why might this normally stoic (and somewhat depressed) young man be so excited, one might ask? The answer was simple. So simple, in fact, that it came with the small, shrill ring of the doorbell.

Vernon Dursley glared fiercely up at the door as the bell was accompanied by rudely insistent knocking, which was then followed by an unmistakably feminine hiss. Irritated at being interrupted while reading the daily news paper, Vernon threw the paper onto the coffee table and hoisted himself onto his feet (a task any onlooker would consider a great feat for the largely overweight man.)

Pulling the door open, Vernon was slightly surprised to find two teenagers. The young man he noticed firstly, because of his flaming red hair. He stood perhaps two inches above Vernon, and was as thin as what Vernon would consider a stick. The young woman standing on his left stood at a height of about five foot five inches, at least four inches shorter than the boy. Her bushy mouse-brown hair was held back as well as she could manage into a low ponytail. Both wore distinctly modern clothes, a pair of khaki pants and a red tee shirt for the boy, and a dark navy skirt and pale blue shirt for the girl.

"What do you want?" Vernon snapped, eyeing them warily. The young woman smiled at him.

"Good morning, Mr. Dursley. My name is Hermione Granger, and this is my friend, Ronald Weasley." She introduced, gesturing to the tall boy by her side. Unlike her, he made no move to present a charming smile for the infamous Dursley.

"Granger and Weasley..." Vernon paused, contemplating as he eyed them. "Are you friends of Dudley? I wouldn't think you were, but you never know with that boy..."

Hermione's smile twitched into a frown for a split second. "Er, no. Actually, we're friends of Harry Potter."

Immediately, as the brunette had expected, Vernon frowned deeply. "You mean you're...of his kind?" he questioned disdainfully.

"What do you mean by 'of his kind'?!" The one called Ron seethed, red seeping onto his freckled face and up into his ears. Hermione elbowed him sharply, eliciting a hiss of pain.

"Yes, we are. And we are here on business."

"Business?" Vernon was quickly becoming red in the face from the prospect of being in front of two more of... them, as the Dursley's preferred to call those unlike themselves.

"Yes, business. We are here to retrieve Harry Potter and remove him permanently from your home." Before Vernon could say another word, Hermione lifted up an envelope, offering it to him. He snatched it from her hand and first stared at the address on its front.

To Mr. Vernon Dursley

Number 4, Privet Drive

Little Whinning, Surrey.

The words were written clearly in the emerald green ink he had seen on Harry's acceptance letters six years earlier. Glancing up at the two, Vernon quickly opened the letter and pulled it out. He read it, muttering under his breath as his eyes scanned the parchment.

"Dear Mr. Dursley,

For the safety of you and your family, Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley have been sent to retrieve Mr. Harry Potter and remove him completely from your care. With the Dark Lord steadily gaining strength, it is not certain of your safety, and therefore, the Minister of Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge, and myself, Mr. Albus Dumbledore have deemed it necessary to switch Mr. Potter over into the care of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur and Molly Weasley.

In case you are unwilling to accept this, Ms. Granger has permission to use any and every means necessary to assure that Mr. Potter is released into Weasley custody. Do have a good day, and give my regards to Petunia.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore."

Vernon returned his gaze to Hermione, the letter still held in place. "Any means necessary?" At Hermione's nod of confirmation, Vernon's face lit up like a ruby balloon. He turned from the door and glared up at the ceiling. "POTTER! GET YOUR RUDDY THINGS TOGETHER AND GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Not even a second passed before the sound of a large trunk being dragged across the floor, bumping into the doorframe (in Harry's haste), and then thumping down the stairs was heard.

At the base of the stares, Hedwig screeched indignantly at the jarring of having moved from the bedroom to the bottom of the stares in less than ten seconds. Harry winced at his uncle's displeased expression and shushed the snowy owl. When he turned his emerald gaze from Uncle Vernon to Hermione, Harry grinned sheepishly at the disapproving look that crossed her face.

She rolled her eyes and took out her wand, muttering Leviosa while pointing it at Harry's trunk, and levitated it. While Harry gaped at her with surprise, Uncle Vernon's previously red face fell from a sneer into complete fright, the color draining from it completely. He stumbled away from the door and tripped his way far from Harry and the floating luggage, his eyes wide. Harry's attention shifted to his uncle and he forgot all about asking Hermione how she was able to cast the spell before the school year. He arched a brow at his uncle, amusement fluttering in his eyes and a smirk tugging at his lips.

"G-get o-out! N-now! OUT!" Vernon stuttered, his huge, frantic eyes boring into each of the three teens fiercely and frightened.

Harry shrugged and began to the door, Hermione floating the trunk along ahead him. "Whatever you say, Uncle."

From the kitchen doors, Aunt Petunia emerged, a confused and indignant look on her face. "What is all this shouting- OH!" She shrieked, dropping the spatula that she had been holding to the floor as her hands flew to cover her mouth.

Hermione ignored the two Muggles as she moved out of the way, allowing Ron to 'assist' Harry and his trunk (on top of which sat Hedwig) through the door. The two shared a satisfied and amused look as they glanced over Harry's shoulder at the Dursley's, whom were frozen in place with their fear.

Ron and Harry staggered their way over to the Weasley's car loading the trunk on top of it with the help of the twins, and they proceeded to tie it down. Harry took Hedwig into the back seat with him and sat her on his lap as Fred and George slid into the driver's and passenger seat, respectively, and Ron waited by the door for Hermione.

"Have a good day, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley!" Hermione said with a smile before closing the door and trotting up to the car. She scooted in, sitting herself next to Harry as Ron slid in after her, closing the door. Fred started the engine and pulled from the curb, driving down the street and around a corner. Hermione turned to Harry, grinning. "That. Was so much fun!" she couldn't help but let out a giddy giggle. Harry returned her grin.

"How did you do that, Hermione? We're not allowed to-"

"I know, but Dumbledore arranged it so that I could. He told the Minister of Magic that the Dursley's might not let you go and asked that I be allowed to use any means necessary."

"Good old Dumbledore." Harry muttered, turning to look out the window.

"The coast is clear!" George announced. "Hang on, we're taking it to the sky!" A jostle and a stomach of butterflies later, the car was in the air, concealed in the clouds from Muggle sight.

Unexpectedly, Harry was pulled into a tight hug from Hermione. He let out a small laugh and returned the hug. "Happy Birthday, Harry!"

"Thanks, Hermione."

- - - -

The arrival to the Burrow was quite an event. When the group of five exited the vehicle, the twins went to retrieve Harry's luggage as the Gryffindor trio started toward the door- only after Fred and George reassured Harry that they would get his trunk, of course. Halfway to the lopsided house, the door was flung open and Molly Weasley emerged excitedly, Ginny right behind her.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried as she hurried up to the trio. She immediately enveloped Harry into a tight hug, surprising him and startling Hedwig. The snowy owl squawked indignantly for the second time that day as Harry awkwardly returned the embrace.

"Er- Mrs. Weasley-" he began in a strained voice. Molly quickly released her hold on the poor boy. Holding him out to arms' length, Molly grinned.

"It's so good to see you again, Harry!" She said fondly. She moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair and attempted to straighten it out at least a little bit. Ron cleared his throat a second later and Mrs. Weasley pulled her hands back, clasping them before her. "My! You sure have grown!" Harry flushed at the compliment. "Come along, then! Let's get you settled." She ushered them inside the house after Fred and George. "Ron, dear, would you show Harry to his room? I'll just pop into the kitchen and start lunch. Is there anything you'd like, specifically, Harry?"

"Er, no thank you Mrs. Weasley."

"Alright then, go on!" Molly ushered them in the direction of the stairs before turning and scuttling into the kitchen. Harry watched after her before following Ron and Hermione up the stairs.

"Your mum is really excited to see me..."

"Ah, yeah. Sorry 'bout that, mate. Mum's really excited about throwing you a "sweet sixteen", as she called it. She's invited everyone in the Order, and she had us invite some friends from school."

Harry flushed again. "She really didn't have to."

Hermione, who had been quite for a long time, gave a small roll of her eyes. "Harry, she's Ron's mum. You know she loves you just as much as she does any of her other children! And besides, today's a very special day."

"It's just his birthday." Ron muttered. He received a quick slap to the arm.

"Ron! It's not just his birthday!" she cried, glaring. "If you don't remember, it's also-"

"Here's where you'll be staying, Harry!" Fred said, suddenly. He and George came out of a room just a few doors away from Ron's bedroom door.

"We've put your trunk in a corner–"

"–So you won't have trouble finding it–"

"–I hope." George finished with a teasing grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Gee, thank–" he stopped, realizing something. "Wait, what? Why do I have my own room?"

"Mum said she wanted you to have your own room this year." Ginny said, drawing attention to her. They hadn't even known she followed them.

"Er– yeah. Crazy mum." Ron let out a weak laugh. "Don't know why, but she insisted on giving you Percy's old room."

"Oh." Harry shrugged after a moment. "Alright." At that moment, Hedwig decided to make her irritation known and she let out a shrill squawk. Everyone in the hall winced slightly. "Sorry, Hedwig. S'cuse me..." Harry stepped past the twins and went into his new room. He set Hedwig's cage on the desk and opened the little door, allowing her out. She took her chance to escape the cage and hopped onto Harry's shoulder. After pecking his cheek in thanks, she hopped on top of the cage and stretched her wings, flapping them a couple of times, before she settled down. She fluffed up her feathers happily as she watched the group of teenagers.

Harry turned back to smile at his friends.

"Let's go back downstairs." Hermione suggested, and the group of four made their way out of the room. Harry ran a hand over Hedwig's feathers before he left, and he idly noticed that Fred and George had disappeared at some point. Somehow, he didn't really want to know where they went.

When Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny entered into the den, they didn't even have time to say a single word before Mrs. Weasley walked in. "Ron, would you please go clear the yard and shed? We don't want any trouble tonight!"

The red head sighed. "Yes, mum."

Molly gave them another grin. "Thank you, Ronald. Ginny, Hermione, will you two please help me?"

The girls nodded and followed Mrs. Weasley out of the room. Ron sighed again. "Well, let's go." Harry followed Ron as the other made his way out into the yard. Resigned to the task of de-gnoming the yard, Harry and Ron split up and hunted gnomes, in the hopes of getting done quickly.

- - - -

By six-thirty that evening, everything was fixed up and ready for the party. The invited guests even began to show up, beginning with Remus Lupin. Harry, dressed in a pair of his finest clothes (as insisted by Mrs. Weasley), was surprised to see all of his dorm mates, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the living room when he entered it. He remembered Ron had said something about inviting a few friends, but he never would have guessed he would have invited the team.

The night flowed smoothly, and it was the best birthday Harry had had in his sixteen years of life. He was very glad Molly had decided to do throw the party for him, and made a point of thanking her with great sincerity.

He had received so many wonderful and... interesting... gifts that he hardly knew what he would do with them. It was safe to say that, by the time all of the guests left (which was around midnight), Harry felt a sense of satisfaction. He really had no idea that so many people would attend a party for him- especially Snape, though Harry suspected he had been forced into it somehow. The gift the greasy Potions Master had thrust into his arms almost immediately he had said was a request from someone whom preferred to remain anonymous. Confused by that, Harry had decided that he would save that particular gift for sometime later.

Which was why he was currently sitting on his bed, in the room that was deemed his for the rest of the summer, staring down at the small square parcel, wrapped in the brown paper an owl-delivered parcel would be. Curiosity soon won the small war he had previously waged in his mind (over weather to trust that the parcel wouldn't kill him and open it, or play it the paranoid way and leave it), and Harry gingerly began to remove the wrapping, starting with the thin rope-string around it. Once he had managed to pull away a portion of the paper, his eyes widened in surprise. Beneath the ordinary wrapping lay elegant red and gold wrapping paper.

He discarded the parcel paper, tossing it over the side of the bed, and set the gift down on the surface, marveling at the immaculate and perfect way it was wrapped. A single, thick silver ribbon wrapped around one section of the gift, emerging at the top into a beautiful and full bow. And tucked beneath the said exquisite bow, sat a small envelope, just smaller than the width of the box that contained his gift.

Harry slowly pulled out the envelope and stared at the elegant scrawl of his name across the front. He recognized the writing, and yet, he couldn't place where he'd seen it before. It most certainly wasn't Snape's writing, which confirmed the fact that he really wasn't the one to get him a gift. Harry pushed the thought from his mind as he flipped up the small, loose lap and removed the card. Printed on the front was a deep red rose. It began as a beautiful bud and, before Harry's awe-struck emerald gaze, bloomed into a magnificent, full scarlet rose, small drops of dew glistening off of the pedals as they would in the early mornings.

He couldn't help but gape. A small gasp pushed its way past his throat as the sweet aroma of the flower drifted up to tickle his senses. Harry remained still for five minutes before he managed to shake himself from the amazed stupor and open the card. The same silky writing greeted him.

Dear Harry,

It is your sixteenth birthday this day, and I know you wonder who it is that could possibly be sending you something so exquisite. Nothing could suit you more, and I would not settle for less than the very best. This is not the only gift I give to you, for one can never be enough. But for now, it must suffice. The beauty in this can never stand higher in my eyes than the beauty I see in your eyes. I dearly hope you accept this gift, it is a one-of-a-kind, and just for you my beautiful Harry.

Forever My Love.

Harry read the words multiple times, amazed with the compliments paid within them, and he vaguely noticed the pounding of his heart. He folded the card again and set it aside, his hands slowly and shakily unwrapping the gift before him. He tugged the bow apart, unraveling the silver ribbon, and drew his attention to carefully removing the lid. Peering inside, Harry saw a black velvet box floating above a sea of silver, gold, emerald and ruby tissue paper strips.

He removed the smaller box and leaned back against the head of the bed, staring at it in the light provided by the moon. With his hands shaking more than they had been, Harry flipped the lid up. A surprised gasp caught his breath as his eyes gazed at the glass pendant in wonderment. Pulling it from the case, Harry held it up by the silver chain, watching as it glinted in the pale light of the moon.

It was a perfectly cut sphere of glass, no more than six centimeters in diameter, which hung from a perfect, and one hundred percent silver, chain. This was not what amazed Harry, however. For his attention was focused solely on the center of the pendant, where a magnificent dragon moved about. It paced around, the moonlight reflecting from the emerald scales on its thin body. As the pendant swung back and forth, the dragon turned its head toward Harry, focusing its pale blue-silver gaze on him. After a staring contest between the two (completely filled with astonishment on Harry's part), the dragon curled up and closed its eyes, snorting a small bout of flames in what Harry could only assume was content.

Completely in a daze, Harry set the pendant back into the case, moved the wrappings from his bed (placing it all in a neat pile on the bedside table), and climbed under the covers. He removed his glasses, setting them on the table as well, and stared up at the ceiling. His heart pounded in his ears and he only then noticed, as he clutched the small box in his hand, the flush that had risen to stretch across the bridge of his noise and stain it red.

Letting out a shuddery sigh, Harry turned onto his side and closed his eyes. He drifted into a pleasant sleep that night, unconsciously holding the velvet box close to his heart.

- - - -

The next morning came all too quickly and Harry groaned as he was awakened by a knock (that was far too loud for his sleep-muddled mind) and the voice of one of his closest friends.

"Harry! Get up! We've got our letters and Mum wants us to get to Diagon Alley as soon as we can!" Ron Weasley said as he opened the door. Harry groaned again and turned his back on the red head. Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, it's already ten!" he marched over to the dark haired young man and flung the blankets off of his thin form.

Harry, in response, rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his forearms, glaring daggers at the blurry form of red, peach, navy, and brown. Ron plopped his glasses onto the bridge of his nose with a small smirk.

"C'mon, breakfast is ready." As Harry sat up completely, Ron left the room. "Oh, and there's a towel in the bathroom. Mum got it just for you." He said before he closed the door behind him.

Harry flung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet. It really didn't feel as if he had had about nine hours of sleep, and he really wished he were still sleeping. Grabbing an outfit from his trunk, the not-yet-fully-aware Gryffindor trudged to the bathroom just down the hall and locked himself within it. He dumped the new clothing onto the sink counter, started up the shower, removed his glasses and finally rid himself of the long and baggy black shirt and fitting boxer shorts (which he had bought himself during the previous year) that served as his pajamas.

Fifteen minutes later Harry emerged from the bathroom, a steaming heat following in his wake, and walked back to his room. He tossed his clothing into his trunk before turning to his bed intent on making it for that day. He stopped, his hands frozen on the sheet, when his eyes landed on the little velvet box. His cheeks flushed and he mumbled to himself, "I forgot about it..."

"Forgot about what?"

Harry jumped at the soft reply and turned around quickly, a hand jumping to his heart. He breathed a sigh. "Hermione, you startled me."

She grinned at him sheepishly. "Sorry Harry. What was it you forgot about?" she asked, cocking her head to the side in her curiosity.

"Oh, er, nothing. I was just- it's nothing." The bridge of his nose flamed again and he prayed Hermione didn't notice.

Hermione noticed, for she was a bright girl and she noticed much about her best friend, but she did not question it. Instead, she smiled at him. "I was just wondering if you were ready for breakfast yet. Actually, Mrs. Weasley sent me to see if you had finished with your shower."

"I'll be down in a minute, Hermione. I just wanted to make my bed first." He hoped she would go on without him. For some odd reason, he felt as though he shouldn't tell his friends about the gift. His hopes, however, were crushed when the brunette brightened up.

"I'll help you!"

"Er, no, that's okay, you don't-" Unfortunately for him, Hermione insisted and was at his bed before he could say another word. The smile on her face remained in place when she saw the box, but Harry saw her eyes sparkle in confusion. She looked over to her friend.

"Harry, what is that?"

He flushed. "It's– er– it's that gift that Snape brought." He mumbled. Her eyes grew wide.

"Snape got you that?!"

"No!" He shook his head insistently. "Snape only delivered it. It's definitely not from him! Besides, why would he give me anything? He wasn't even pleased about being here last night."

"Do you know who it's from?" Harry shook his head. "Well, what is it?" He picked up the box and handed it to her.

"See for yourself."

Hermione flipped up the lid and gaped in astonishment. "Harry! T-that is...is.." She closed the lid and handed it back to him, shaking herself out of her shock. "It's...wow." She sighed, brushing a hand full of frizzy locks behind her ear.

"It's what, Hermione?" Harry watched her with confused emerald eyes as he flipped the lid open again. He glanced down at the pendant and was slightly taken aback by the irritated glare the dragon gave him. When he looked back up to his brunette friend, he met her calculating gaze. "What?"

"It's special." She said finally.

"Special?"

Hermione nodded. She quickly made his bed and flopped onto it, leaning back on her hands as she watched Harry. He sat beside her. "Harry, that pendant is the only of its kind. There is nothing else like it in the entire world- muggle or magical. Whoever sent that to you must really think you're special. No one would freely give away an item of such great a value." She turned her eyes away, looking at the wrappings on his nightstand. "I never would have ever dreamt I'd one day see it in person. I've only ever read about it– I mean, I've seen it as a picture before, but..." she muttered to herself.

Harry looked back at the pendant, his brows furrowing in confusion as he pulled it out and let the pendant swing slightly on its chain. What's so special about it anyway? he wondered as he placed the chain around his neck for the first time.

"Hermione, what's so special about it?" His question startled the brunette from her thoughts and she looked over at him.

"...Let's go get some breakfast before it's too late." She said, changing the subject, and she stood to make her way to the door.

"Hermione!"

She stopped and turned. "We'll talk about it later, okay Harry?" He let out a defeated sigh and nodded. Hermione threw him a small smile over her shoulder and walked out of the room. Harry, after a moment, set the velvet box on the nightstand and followed her to breakfast, finally heeding his stomach's protests.

When Harry fell into his chair at the table, Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. "Good morning, Harry." He politely replied and gave her a small smile. "Did you have a nice night?" Harry nodded as he began to eat. Molly smiled. "That's good. Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Here's your Hogwarts letter." She handed him the envelope and he took it.

After swallowing his bite of toast, Harry thanked her. He opened the letter, skimmed it (it wasn't much different from the year before, all of the books were just a level higher), and returned to his food.

As soon as everyone had finished their meal, Mrs. Weasley ushered the teens into the living room, where they all slid on their cloaks, and then to the fireplace. Ginny was sent first through the floo network to Diagon Alley, Ron and Hermione after her, then Harry followed lastly by Mrs. Weasley.

Harry emerged from the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, coughing and sputtering and swatting at the soot that clung to him. He looked around at the three Weasleys' and Hermione and saw them doing the same, Hermione looking slightly miffed at the offending stains. He knew that she never liked flooing, no one did.

Casting away the last soot scuff, Harry muttered to Hermione (whom was right beside him) that he would meet them at Flourish and Blotts. After a confirming nod, he made his way into the back courtyard, through the brick archway, and into the busy street of Diagon Alley.

After about only twenty minutes of wandering around Diagon Alley, Harry had his supplies restocked and replaced. As he had told Hermione, he entered into Flourish and Blotts, spotting them immediately, even though there was quite a crowd in the small bookshop. Confusion written in his eyes, Harry walked up to the Weasleys and stood between Ron and Hermione.

"What's going on?" He still couldn't see anything, as there were dozens of people ahead of them.

Ron rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "It's just another book signing." He said, sounding uninterested. Harry arched a brow.

"Then why are you here and not getting your books?"

"Because he wants to see the author." Hermione said slyly, sending a smirk Ron's way. Ron turned red and Harry's eyes danced with amusement.

"Oh really. Well, I want to get my books. Have fun, Ron." He playfully nudged him before walking off toward the schoolbooks. He felt the glare his best friend threw at him and merely smirked. It was always fun messing around with him like that.

By the time Harry returned, which was a mere ten minutes later, the crowd ahead of the Weasleys began to disperse. Harry watched the hopeful and excited glint on Ron's face, but, to his dismay, the table was empty. Whomever it had been had already left. He walked up to his best friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Bad luck, mate." Ron sighed and shrugged, giving a small smile to his friends before he trudged over to get his own books.

Harry turned to Hermione. "What was that all about anyway? Who was it?"

"Harry Potter, great lover of Quidditch, has never heard of Alena Piers?" A mock-shocked drawl questioned behind him. Harry scowled, turning to glare at the 'infuriatingly insufferable git' he had had the displeasure to know for five years.

"Malfoy." He bit scathingly.

The blond Slytherin smirked.

"Potter." He returned in an amused tone, throwing the Gryffindors completely off balance. As they stared at him incredulously, his pale eyes glanced down as something emerald caught and glinted in the pale light. His gaze flashed back up to Harry's and he met his emerald eyes, arching a brow. His smirk still playing on his lips, Malfoy walked closer to the duo, which stood, surprisingly, without a Weasley in sight; they normally had at least one around them at all times.

Harry tensed slightly as Malfoy stepped up to him and tilted his head down slightly to keep their eye contact. His eyes widened considerably at the words that came from the tall Slytherin as barely a whisper, "Nice necklace, Harry."

His hand instinctively flew up to conceal the dragon as he stepped back slightly. Malfoy arched a silvery brow at him and smirked again. Harry could do nothing more than stare at him, bewildered.

"See you at Hogwarts, Potter." He pushed past them, brushing against Harry's shoulder, and swept out of the store. Hermione watched him go, glaring at his back. When she turned back to Harry, she was startled to see that he hadn't moved since Malfoy left.

That brush had startled Harry, but mainly because it had sent a surprising shiver through him. He suppressed another that threatened to rake his lithe form at the thought of it. Wh-what the hell?! He closed his eyes, tilting his head down toward the ground.

"Harry?" the tentative question and gentle hand placed on his shoulder startled him out of his slightly dazed state and he looked up. "Are you alright?" He gave her a small nod.

"I-I'm going to go... pay for my books..." He moved away from her and up to the clerk, setting his stack of books onto the desk. He was surprised he hadn't dropped them with that...thing... that Malfoy had done.

When he had used Harry's name.

He took in a slightly shuddering breath, paid for his books, and headed to the door. On his way, he brushed past Ron.

"Oi! Mate, where are you going?"

"I need some air." He replied over his shoulder. Ron watched him in confusion until the door closed and Harry walked away from the store.

"What the bloody hell happened to him?"

- - - -

Harry walked swiftly down Diagon Alley, weaving between witches and wizards. He ducked into an alley he had never noticed before and leaned heavily on the wall. He closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths. His heart was pounding within his chest, just as it had when he read that letter. It was...odd...hearing his name from Malfoy. And something about him, about the way he had said it, had left Harry feeling overwhelmed by something. Some emotion that he knew wasn't hate toward the taller boy.

He tilted his head back, his face contorting in confusion. He had no idea why he was reacting the way he was. And he wasn't sure he liked it. His hand found his pendant once again and his eyes opened. He tilted his head to look down at it. The dragon was staring at him with its piercing eyes, watching him carefully.

His breathing, which had sped up to accommodate the speed of his heart, slowed as his pulse returned to normal.

"What are you looking at?" he muttered bitterly at the dragon. It seemed to arch an amused eyebrow at him, oddly resembling Malfoy. Harry dropped the pendant and it bounced on his chest for a brief moment before stilling. He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. Merlin. Get a grip, Harry.

"Harry?" he turned at the call of Mrs. Weasley. "Where are you? We're leaving now, dear."

Harry sighed again and picked up his bags, and then proceeded back out into the busy horde of magical people and to the group he had arrived with. They walked, Ginny talking happily about something or other, back to the Leaky Cauldron and flooed back to the Burrow.

- - - -

September the first quickly arrived and before Harry knew it, he was on the Hogwarts Express and on the way back to the famous school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He sat in a compartment on his own, enjoying the silence. His friends, Ron and Hermione, were off doing their duties as Prefects, which left the Golden Boy alone. And wishing he had something to do. Harry sighed and slumped against the window, watching as the scenery passed by. His eyes slipped shut and he was just about to drift off when the sleep-enhanced sound of his compartment door sliding open startled him.

He jumped, sitting straight in his seat, and turned to see who had entered the compartment. Malfoy stood at the door, a smirk gracing his features. He strode in, closing the door behind him, and gracefully sat across from Harry. He rested his arms casually across his chest as he watched the Gryffindor. The look on his face, Draco found, was utterly amusing. So, to express this, he let out a small chuckle and arched a brow.

Potter stared at him in complete astonishment.

"Something wrong?" Malfoy snickered.

"Y-... Why ...Wh-" Harry gaped. Managing to shake himself out of his temporary state of shock, he glared and hissed, "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"Sitting." Malfoy drawled, still highly amused.

"Don't state the obvious." Harry flatly replied.

"But it is what I'm doing." He snickered again

The Gryffindor sighed. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"A friendly conversation." A dark brow arched. "Have you seen today's issue of The Daily Prophet , Potter?"

"No." Harry eyed him warily. "Why?" Malfoy reached into his robes and withdrew a rolled copy of the Prophet.

"I think you may find the front page story...enlightening."

Harry took the offered parchment, unrolled it and proceeded to read.

Precautions to the Second War

By Rita Skeeter

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as announced by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, will not be accepting any new students in the time pending the war.

"It is for the safety of our future generations," Dumbledore proclaimed in an interview. "That the doors to Hogwarts remain closed to all potential students. I do not mean to drive them away for good, merely to keep them as far from what will inevitably become the center of the war."

However, while new students are refused entrance, current students will be returning. The headmaster would not comment further on this topic, but it is clear on the purpose of this act. It is because of a singe student attending Hogwarts that the upper years will all return. The Wizarding World's own Golden Boy, Harry Potter, will be continuing to train and gain strength to win what Dumbledore hopes will be a promising war. He puts his trust into a mere boy whom does nothing more than seek the spotlight and seize the attention of Witches and Wizards all over the world.

What is it that Harry Potter hopes to achieve? Many believe he seeks recognition as a great hero, the respect from all and great power. Others speculate that he just wants what is best for the world. But who knows for sure what his intentions are? With his thirst for power, could Harry Potter's goal be to rid the world of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to make room for himself as the new Dark Lord?

Harry stopped reading the article. His hands shook with barely contained fury. "Where does she come up with this shit?!" he raged. "Me... the new Dark Lord?! It– it's preposterous!" His eyes closed briefly as he crumpled the paper. When he opened them again, they burned with his fury. He looked up at Malfoy, struggling to keep his emotions inside. "Why did you show me this?" he asked in the calmest tone he could manage, which, surprisingly, was a deadly calm.

Malfoy watched him, a completely serious look covering his features. "Perhaps I thought that everyone close to you would try to keep it from you. Isn't it better getting the news from the Prophet itself and not someone else?"

"Technically I got it from you." He replied. Unconsciously, Harry reached up to pull the pendant from beneath his shirt. He grasped it in his hand and somehow, he felt all of the anger flow from him. Malfoy observed this unconscious gesture and the corner of his lips twitched up slightly.

"I suppose I'll go now. Enjoy the ride, Potter." He stood and left the compartment without another word.

Harry tossed the parchment as far from him as was possible before his anger returned and he accidentally set fire to it. Releasing the pendant, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his other hand before pinching the bridge of his nose. Where does she get the notion that I want to be the next Dark Lord? I'm a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! That woman is bloody insane. He sighed. If she isn't careful, she'll get herself killed because of one of her articles. I'd hate to see what Voldemort has to say about that.

- - - -

An evil laugh erupted from the darkness of a hidden mansion. It sent shivers down every spine, struck fear in every heart and mind. All who heard it thanked Merlin they were far from the source of the evil sound.

"M-my L-lord?" The only servant with the misfortune to be beside the source questioned in a stuttering and frightened voice.

Another laugh ripped from Voldemort's throat. "Who does that woman thing she's fooling?" He laughed again, an eerie, chill laugh. "Harry Potter? Take my place? The boy is far too good for such a thing!" he snickered. Wormtail backed away a step from his lord. "Wormtail!" the bark startled the skittery man and he jumped.

"Y-y-y-yes, m-m-m-my l-l-l-lord?"

The crimson eyes that flashed in his direction brought forth a small whimper of fear as Voldemort smirked at him. "Send...a gift...to Ms Skeeter. An invitation to meet. Be sure to mention that 'exclusive details of the Lord's plans' shall be revealed to her at this meeting."

"Y-yes Sire." He turned to exit the room.

"And Wormtail," when the short, fat man stopped and turn to his Lord, Voldemort continued, "Send Lucius Malfoy to me."

Wormtail bowed and left the room.

A smirk curled Voldemort's lips as he cast a glance over the article again. "So... that old fool has decided to cast away new students. This means he has plans. Yes, many plans. This information could be very useful to me, indeed." The long snake, that usually lay curled on a rug near her master, slithered up the chair and into Voldemort's lap. He affectionately brushed his pale, bony hand along her scales.

"Nagini, my dear..." her tongue flicked in and out of her mouth as she gazed up at the man whose name struck fear in every heart. "...The time is drawing nearer. Soon, my plans will be set into action."

- - - -To Be Continued- - - -

Well, I surprised myself. I mean, look at this chapter! God, I hardly have anything this long. And that scene with Voldemort was a completely unexpected ending! Completely unexpected period. It was never meant to be included. Never even thought of it. In fact, this wasn't even supposed to be the end of the chapter.

Here is the first chapter! This is the only thing I have written, but I do have ideas springing up in my mind all the time. This also took me seven days to write. A full week. Wow. Anyway, please tell me what you think by clicking on that little button right down there and reviewing. Hope you all enjoyed! ...and please review!!