Harry Potter and the Demonslayer Chapter 2, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: I swear I don't own Harry Potter or any related concepts besides any characters not immediately recognizeable from JKR's work. Please don't pop my brains with legalese!

Summary: As Harry enters his 6th year, he struggles with the implications of the prophecy and the grief he feels over Sirius' death. And what is the "power the Dark Lord knows not?" What does this new prophecy mean? And who is the Demonslayer? HG, RH, OCOC, Super!OC, independent!OC, notsuperbutprettygood!Harry, notquiteindependentbutsullen!Harry.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews from everyone so far. I appreciate whatever level of support I get.

Chapter 2: All's Quiet on the Home Front...

The next morning, Harry woke up, and for the first time since the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't been dreaming about Sirius. Instead, it was something involving a brown rabbit, a laser gun, and a race car. He laughed at the concept of Professor Trelawney trying to decipher that dream. "The rabbit means many children, but the laser gun means genocide. The race car stands for speed. Obviously, you are to have many children, but they will all be viciously slaughtered very soon after. And are you sure you didn't see a Grim in there dear? Because you are bound to die. DIE!" said the old bat in his mind. He could always cheer himself up by thinking of Trelawney, simply because she was such an amusing old fraud, in retrospect. Harry's thoughts were cut short, however, at a ferocious knocking on his door.

"BOY! Get up and make brekfast!" shouted his Uncle Vernon, possibly the most bigoted and jealous man of the millenium. Well, no, because in this millenium they had slaves. So possibly just the most bigoted man of the decade, or perhasps of the century.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. Right away," sighed Harry. After brekfast, he'd be given a list of chores to do, which would take him all day, and then at dinner, his Aunt and Uncle would make up some chore and say he hadn't done it so as to forbid him dinner. He'd even tried just doing every single chore he could think of and was forbidden from dinner because he didn't wash behind his ears that morning. He'd given up trying and had even begun to simply not do the hardest chore on his list. Of course, he didn't have a chance at threats or "magical expedience." He couldn't even defend himself in the case of an attack, as his wand had been confiscated at the beginning of break.

As Harry sturggled downstairs and began fixing some eggs and bacon, each and every one of his relatives was popping in and requesting special brekfasts.

"Boy, I want my eggs scrambled."

"Wretch, make my eggs over easy."

"Hey, freak, I want fried eggs this morning."

"I want sausage, not bacon!"

"I want cheese!"

Harry, of course, dutifully complied. It was easier than getting yelled at, but he seethed quietly inside. Just as he finished sorting all the food out on the table, he felt something prick into the back of his neck. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" yelled Mad Eye in the recesses of his brain.

"Long time, no see, boy." said Malfoy. Luciius Malfoy had somehow found his way into 4 Privet Drive. But before he even thought about it, Harry was swinging around, and Malfoy was suddenly down on the ground, unconcious and in pain as he had just been hit in the face with a grease-filled cast iron skillet. Before the other nine Death Eaters could retaliate, Harry had dashed around the corner and was halfway upstairs. AS one of the Death Eatrs came around and raised his wand from right next to the stairs, he had the same skillet dropped flat on his head. Slipping into his room, Harry quickly cast about for any method of escape. Finding none and hearing footsteps just outside his room, Harry took another glance around for weapons. Finding only his katana and wakazashi, Harry quickly drew them both, putting the wakazashi in his left hand and the katana in his right. Looking out the window, he saw ten Order members strewn about his lawn. As the door burst open, Harry was already stabbing through the rubble.As he hit fat, the dust cleared and he saw his last three remaining relatives dead by the Death Eaters hands. They had then pushed Dudley into the room first as a whale-sized sheild of fat. Then, as suddenly as the door had burst open, Harry's cousin was thrown forward onto the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, trapped under a body at least three times his weight, was stuck.

"Well, Potter, are you ready to join your mangy dog of a godfather in death?" asked the cold, feminine voice.

"Damn you, Lestrange! Damn you to hell!" spit Harry. In what he thought was a last act of defiance, he spit striaght into Lestrange's face.

"Well, Potter. Defiant to the last, eh? I hope you enjoyed that. However, I don't have time to make this any more painful, so you're just going to have to die. So long." replied Bellatrix gleefully. Harry closed his ees and wished for everthing he'd never had. He wished he'd had parents, he wished he'd had a chance to say goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. He wished he'd had a chance to reconcile his problems with Dumbledore. He wished he'd been able to help Remus through his grief. He wished, above all, he'd been able to savea the world as he was prophesized to. Now, hoever, all of those cfhances had been taken from him and the wizarding world was doomed.

"Avada Kedavra!" shreiked Bellatrix Lestrange, finally about to destroy the Boy-Who-Lived once and for all.