Disclaimer: Really really not mine. All JK Rowling and Joss Whedon's.
Setting: Straight after Order of the Phoenix and starts at the Buffy episode 'No Place Like Home'-when Buffy finds out that Dawn's the key and Joyce is ill.
Pairings: Really not sure yet.
Summary: One is special, Two are chosen but 3 are destiny.
Nearly fifteen years ago Lord Voldemort killed James Potter, only James Potter. Is it time Lily returned to the wizarding world?
Holy Trinity:Hi
Laura:thank you for all the optimism + support
Dur'id the Druid: It was supposed to be pathos (a kinda anticlimax 'cos Glory's so powerful and everything you'd think she was going to do something really drastic with Voldemort and then he just gets rid of her although you will have to just wait and see what happens in the end.)
Tanydwr: Wait and see. Thanks for the good luck +same to you.
Sorry about the bit of confusion with times/ages etc I made a mistake in my original summary. This is set after Ootp so Sirius is dead. Harry's nearly sixteen. Sorry, my bad.
Sharing with another
When Buffy awoke it was with reluctance. She was warm and comfortable however for only a moment before her bruises and aches from her fight with Glory reminded her of their presence. The warmth, from a beam of sunlight falling on her face and the quilted covers enveloping her, remained but comfort was long gone. Buffy groaned and forced herself out of the four-poster. She winced with movement but even facial expression seemed to cause discomfort. Dawn was still asleep, an untroubled look on her face, and with a small smile Buffy walked past the other beds to the door and down the spiral stairs to the common room. The fire had been re-lit and was flickering merrily in the fireplace opposite the portrait hole. Nearby stood a small table on which was set a silver tray stacked high with toast, fruit, bacon and eggs and on which a piece of parchment balanced precariously. Buffy carefully lifted off the parchment and a piece of toast, which was still surprisingly warm, and sat in a large armchair by the fire. On the parchment was a short message written in violet ink.
Dear Misses Summers/Potter,
As I said I have an early appointment with the Minister for Magic today so I will be absent from the castle for the morning. I will however return to Hogwarts at lunch-time and I would very much like for you to join me in my office for lunch. I have contacted St. Mungo's and have heard that your mother is recovering well and you will be able to visit this afternoon. Should you wish to make contact with anyone else the owlery is on the fifth floor but the Fat Lady will give you directions. I have supplied parchment, ink and quills with your breakfast which I hope you enjoy. Please do feel free to explore the castle grounds and remember to introduce yourselves as acquaintances of mine to anyone you may meet. Remember this also when writing a letter, as it is possible for such correspondences to fall into the wrong hands. Should you require anything else the house-elves will be most obliged to supply you and they may be found in the kitchen or contacted by simply leaving a written request.
Albus Dumbledore
Buffy picked up the parchment, a foot long feather and a bottle of scarlet ink and looked at them in surprise. 'Wizards obviously not heard of biros then. Maybe I should start selling them, could probably make some money,' she thought then settled back in her chair to write to Sunnydale.
Hi Giles,
Wow it's difficult to know what to write, and definitely strange not to be either picking up the 'phone or just walking 'round to see you. Instead I'm writing using a great long feather and parchment, not even paper. I think I know why you like England so much- the people where I am aren't much beyond the medieval ages either. I'm staying in a castle which is-get this- a boarding school. I know, me back in a school, how strange is thay, at least I doubt I'll be blowing it up. Anyway I'm not allowed to say too much in this letter, more secrets, like I don't have enough! I'm taking a chance though 'cos we've got not one but two new evil guys in town and I really think we need some info. Since that's kinda your forte I was thinking you and Wills might like to play a little hide and seek with some information. First one's Lord Voldemort/He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named/Tom Riddle/The Dark Lord-apparently very evil wizard almost killed nearly 15 years ago and back, just my luck huh? Second one brought a little visit from tweety bird (although I think I just about stayed awake for the mashing). She's called Glory, human looking with a bad perm but A LOT stronger and she knows about me-if you catch my drift.
Anyway Mom's doing ok, can't really tell you much in a letter. Dawn's with me at this school and we're making some seriously wiggy discoveries. I miss all of you, send my love to everyone. Tell Xander that it hasn't rained once since we got here (I know he wont believe it but it's true) and I hope I'll see you all soon. Let me know anything you find about our baddies.
All my Love
Buffy
That done Buffy attacked the breakfast tray although it took her a little while to realise that whatever she took was instantly replaced. That discovery made her gusto increased two-fold. When Dawn arrived in the common room she was surprised to find Buffy covered in toast crumbs and yet a full rack (or several) left. It didn't take long for Dawn too to realise that she could eat as much as she wanted and soon both sisters were holding their stomachs and moaning. Buffy decided to post her letter and so, according to Dumbledore's instructions received directions from the Fat Lady and made her way to the owlery. On pushing open the door Buffy gasped at the collection of birds in front of her. Being day most were sleeping but a few were flying around the oak ceiling beams. All in all it was quite a remarkable sight particularly since owls were not a regular feature in Buffy's sighting list, vampires and demons she was used to seeing in crowds but owls were somehow freaky in such close confines. Buffy looked up at the ceiling wondering how on earth an owl was going to deliver her letter when a particularly gorgeous Tawny owl flew down and perched on her shoulder. It startled Buffy but she quickly realised it had come to take the letter. Unfortunately she had no idea what to do with it. The owl held out its foot helpfully and Buffy saw that there was a leather cord attached to it. She wrapped the parchment into a scroll and tied it to the owl's foot.
"Uh…take this to Giles…please." Buffy said unsure of exactly why she was speaking to an owl. The owl hooted softly and flew out of the window. Buffy watched as the dark form of the bird shrunk to a tiny black dot against the blue sky. "I hope he's got a good sense of direction," Buffy muttered turning to leave the owlery. She rejoined Dawn in the common room and the two of them followed Dumbledore's advice, setting out to explore the castle although Buffy was very careful to hide from Dawn that she had already seen much of it.
~*~
So now, while Buffy and Dawn are busy exploring, let us return to a most crucial figure in this story and one who has not featured yet to great extent. I mean of course The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. We left him last in the company of Ron Weasley, in the living room of his late godfather and in a state of great depression. Unfortunately we rejoin him in much of the same mind-frame although it is perhaps sadness that plays a more significant role than hatred in his conscious thoughts.
Harry had very soon been left alone after his arrival at Grimmauld Place. Everyone, it seemed, had places to be, jobs to do, tasks to plan etc etc. Even Ron was called away by Mrs Weasley after only moments in Harry's company. His greeting had been friendly enough but there was some sort of barrier between them that Harry wasn't entirely sure Ron even knew about, perhaps it was some kind of barrier between him and everyone else? When the other occupants of the dark, dank house had dispersed Harry slowly made his way upstairs to the room he had shared with Ron last summer. It was as plain and bare as he remembered, two beds were neatly made up and Ron's belongings were dumped on one, his trunk on the other. Harry stared bleakly around the room for a moment and then sat down on his bed idly plucking at the bars of Hedwig's empty cage.
"So you're back then." A familiar voice said. "Despite his death."
"Shut up." Harry yelled at the painted figure of Phineas Nigellus. "Don't you talk about it."
"But it's what you need." The portrait said. "You have a lot to face but it's your choice I suppose. Still you do not know so I suppose it is excusable."
"What don't I know?" Harry said bitterly. "More secrets, more things that I'm not ready to know, more things about my life, about me." Harry's resentment had built up behind a dam and though it had not yet burst the cracks were beginning to show. Phineas' reply did not reinforce the dam, its ambiguity was in fact a cause for Harry's anger to mount. "What don't I know?"
"What's to come. Who you are. You haven't even begun."
Harry left the bedroom with this strange commentary ringing in his ears. Phineas was right of course, though Harry didn't know how right. Since Sirius' death Harry had changed, he had changed after Cedric's death too but this was closer to his heart and it had not yet healed. Suddenly Harry realised that his legs had taken him up a staircase he had never climbed before and stopped him outside a door he had never seen. Curious, even amidst his confusion, Harry pushed open the door only to find himself in Sirius' bedroom. Harry paused on the threshold, a burning desire to run as far away as possible battled with an equally strong one inside him that wanted to learn everything he could from the room. Eventually he stepped inside drawn by the prospect of finding out something more about the marauders, or his parents.
The room was decorated with pictures although Harry was surprised to see that many of them were of broomsticks and motorcycles, not the newest models though, (Harry knew he would spot a firebolt in an instant) there were Cleansweeps and Silver Arrows and the motorbikes were definitely retro. A quick glance around the room confirmed that everything in it was from the past. Sirius had lived in the past. Much as Harry had rejected the notion it had been staring him in the face, Hermione had been the only one of the trio astute enough to recognise it but now Harry had no choice but to see it. Sirius had been trapped for so long, it had helped to kill him Harry was sure, that the current world was too different to accept. Thirteen years in Azkaban, two on the run, then one stuck in this house that reeked of evil, well Harry could understand why Sirius would prefer the past. The past was a world where he had three best friends, a surrogate family and a school where everyone liked him. The present was a world where one friend betrayed another, his best friend was dead, he was despised and feared by almost the entire wizarding world and even the fourth friend, even Dumbledore believed him to be a traitor and a murderer.
Harry's gaze fell on three framed photographs on the table in the corner. One was a copy of the picture Harry had of his parents' wedding, the black and white figures were waving and smiling at him. Sirius stood next to James as best man and Pettigrew and Lupin were nearby. Harry did not look at that one for long, he had it himself so there was no need, but moved on to the next one. It was a large picture in a silver frame and in it were the four marauders. There was Lupin, smiling broadly, Pettigrew, scowling ever so slightly, James and Sirius with their arms over each other's shoulders. They couldn't have been a day older than sixteen, James' hair was as messy as Harry's, his glasses slightly wonky. Sirius was handsome and healthy, there was no hint of just how drastically he was to change. The last picture had three people in. Harry picked it up and sat on Sirius' bed, neatly made as if he would one day come home to it, and stared at the faces he longed to see. Though the picture was black and white Harry fancied he could see Lily's copper-red hair, the rainbow glint off James' glasses and the tan on Sirius' grinning face. The three of them were tangled up together in what seemed like a cross between a three-way hug and a game of twister and looked Blissfully happy. Hogwarts was in the background though Harry guessed they must have been at least in their final year. He sat, he didn't know how long for, looking at the picture. Looking at the three people in the world he knew loved him, at three people he would never see, three people whose lives had been taken by Lord Voldemort. Harry knew, it had been hidden from him a long time, but he knew that the burden of defeating Lord Voldemort fell upon his shoulders. It was a burden he did not want yet a destiny he must face and one that would at least allow him to wreak revenge.
Hours passed, it could have been days for all Harry was aware. The bustle of headquarters continues below him but was just background. The world seemed to stop still as Harry watched the laughing faces. As night fell a voice fell on his ears startling him. He looked up to see Hermione standing over him, hair as bushy as ever, a worried expression on her face.
"It'll get better Harry" she said softly. "It has to get better." Hermione sat down beside Harry and tenderly held his hand.
"It was my fault." Harry muttered still bitterly. "The stupid prophecy."
"It broke Harry. It's not important." Hermione was rather bemused by Harry's comment, expecting something more specific about Sirius; she too had been struggling to deal with loss of him. She knew that it was right for Harry to have sympathy, Sirius was his godfather, and yet everyone seemed to forget that she too had risked a lot to save him, she too had got to know him and had spent much of the summer with him.
"It is important Hermione, the prophecy was my life, my destiny and he didn't tell me." Hermione stared at Harry, whatever she had expected him to say it wasn't that. "Dumbledore didn't tell me why they had to die, he didn't tell me it was my fault."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione whispered, scared by Harry's tone.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. That's what I mean. My destiny, to kill. Murderer or victim it has to be and there are always others in the crossfire. Sirius, my Mum…" Harry drew a shuddering breath. "My dad."
"Shush." Hermione said carefully wiping a tear from Harry's face. "It's not your fault." She leaned in towards him and tenderly kissed him. It was short and gentle but as Hermione's lips lightly brushed his Harry realised just how close they were, how much they had shared. They sat there, close together simply for comfort until Ron's voice echoed through the house calling them to dinner.
~*~
The Minister for Magic's Office tended to change in decoration each time it gained a new occupant. Currently the walls were papered with alternate, thick vertical stripes of lime green and white and a large faux crystal chandelier spattered light over golden cherubs that adorned the white stripes. The door was stately oak, hundreds of years old and completely out of place in the tacky surroundings topped off by a carpet rug woven with ornate Middle Eastern patterns. Cornelius Fudge however seemed perfectly at home in such surroundings, his bowler hat matching the green of the walls to near perfection. His face however was a shade of purple that clashed painfully with the green. The cause of Fudge's high blood pressure was sitting calmly opposite him, hands folded in his lap.
"Dumbledore I do not understand why you insisted on this meeting. It is not your responsibility to fight He Who Must Not Be Named."
"It is the responsibility Cornelius of the entire magical community to work together in order to fight Lord Voldemort." Fudge let out an involuntary squeal at the sound of this name and turned if possible even more purple.
"I thought I made it clear last year Dumbledore that your power is easily reduced. The Ministry is in full control of the situation."
"Indeed Cornelius, I am sure they are in as much control as they were of the dementors that attacked Harry last Summer." Dumbledore's quick retort hit Fudge hard and his neck grew red with the memory.
"Now see here Dumbledore, that was not my fault."
"I am not here to lay blame Cornelius. We must think about what is to come not what has passed. You have witnessed the return of Lord Voldemort, it is what you do with that knowledge that is important and yet, despite the proof of your own eyes that he is back you refuse to take sufficient action against him."
"It is none of your concern Dumbledore." Fudge blustered swelling slightly.
"On the contrary. It is indeed my concern. Hogwarts, like every other magical institution, will be under direct threat and I am not prepared to put my students in danger now Lord Voldemort has revealed himself."
"Would you stop saying his name." Fudge hisses as Dumbledore fixed him with a cool gaze.
"You must learn to conquer your fear of it Cornelius. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."
"Are you saying we should not fear the Dark Lord? Even you Dumbledore can not be so rash."
"I would not presume to say anything of the sort. Lord Voldemort has done terrible things, yes, but he is not infallible. He has human weaknesses and we must target them in order to overcome him."
"And I suppose you know what these human weaknesses are then do you?"
"Indeed Cornelius seven years of teaching Tom Riddle Transfiguration has given me a little understanding of him. I am more than willing to share what little I know with the ministry but"
"No no, no need." Fudged puffed looking affronted. "I have already put into place action to stop the Dark Lord." Fudge's expression shifted to one of self assured smugness as he thought wit pride of his plan. He revelled in the look of surprise on Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore was indeed surprised, he had not believed that Fudge would take direct action.
"I assume you are referring to the defence techniques being taught to people through leaflets and handbooks."
"Partially." Fudge replied pompously.
"Cornelius that will not win this war. We must put up a united front or else we will crumble under Lord Voldemort's attack no matter how much each individual resists him." Dumbledore, though not displaying any emotions other than complete conviction in his words, was considerably less calm than usual. The change was imperceptible to anyone other than Dumbledore himself and yet Fudge's self-importance was growing.
"I was not aware that we were at war Dumbledore. Perhaps you would care to explain to me how you know of a war the Ministry has not declared." The Minister for Magic knew that this would annoy Dumbledore and yet, as tends to happen when you converse with Dumbledore, the headmaster's response made it clear that he was in total control of the conversation.
"It is not necessary for the Ministry to declare war for one to exist, no declaration is necessary at all. Lord Voldemort's mere (though it is a feat to be remarked at) return is a more powerful announcement than any political speech. He is a greater threat to our security than any other."
"Indeed the threat is palpable. That is why I have taken steps to counteract it. You obviously do not respect my judgement and so I am afraid it is now that we have reached the parting of ways you spoke of a year ago. I have said it before and I will say it again, The Ministry has allowed you too much leeway and it is time for us to take control once more. Good day Dumbledore." For the first time Dumbledore's cool composure broke.
"You cannot be serious Cornelius. You have seen the effects of such centred power. You have already let your love of office lead you to step aside and allow Lord Voldemort a second chance. Do not let our differences lead you to hand him the power he craves."
"I am deadly serious Dumbledore. I have taken action and you may continue to take yours unless it interferes with Ministry action. If it does, you will be stopped and you yourself know that you, like Lord Vol…Voldemort, are not infallible. So this is where we part. Good bye." Fudge held the door open for Dumbledore, thoroughly enjoying his feeling of superiority. Dumbledore got up to leave but typically imparted wise words of advice before doing so.
"I wish I could say that the outcome of your decisions will fall on your own head but I cannot. The choices you make will affect each and every witch and wizard. Lord Voldemort and his deatheaters will thank you on bended knee but no one else will; they will be too busy trying to live under the punishment you will bring upon them."
Dumbledore swept from the room and as he passed Fudge could almost feel the power blazing from the elderly wizard's brilliant blue eyes. He closed the door and returned slowly to his desk.
"You can come out now." Fudge called to a seemingly deserted room and a door to his left swung open, crashing into the wall with a sound that made him wince. A figure clad in black leather trousers and a red shirt, half unbuttoned, strolled into the middle of the room. "Temper, temper…is everything alright?" Fudge asked uncaringly but in a gesture of concern that his tool would be fit to carry out his plans. The response however was certainly unexpected, full of sarcasm and not altogether comprehensible.
"Five by Five Boss."
Evil? I really wanted to get to this point so yay I finally did.
I'm not really that happy with the first half of this chapter. Hope you like it anyways. Let me know.Pleeeeeeease!!!!! Slayeryness coming up soon so the sooner you review the sooner you get the revelation.