Year Six of Harry Potter
Alas, year six has passed. But, if you're saddened by that end, let's just read mine for the hell of it. After all, this is a free country.
Anyway, as in all my other stories, this one's very involved. Read on, Harry Potter fans, read on!
Oh and there's an OC in this, so bear with me. I have a habit of making new characters in every story. But NEVER Mary Sues.
Disclaimer: Why do people even have these? This site's called for god's sakes! Of course we don't own the characters- it's FANfiction! Ah whatever.
(The name Tamora is from my favorite Shakespearian play- Titus Andronicus. A very very good but extremely gory and depressing play. I couldn't help but use the name; after all, Lucius is a name from Titus. I have a very interesting vision... Maybe some fanart :grins evilly: Ah, fanart.)
(Oh, and many thanks to the name 'Ravenwolf' which I use in this, since I have taken this name from the Wicca author Silver Ravenwolf and used it for a new character. THANK YOU, MS. RAVENWOLF! BECAUSE OF YOU, I NO LONGER HAVE WRITER'S BLOCK!)
Back to the Ordinary
Harry sat at the edge of his bed, listening to the snowy white owl rattling in her cage. He payed no attention to her pleas. Sirius was gone... His only chance of escaping the Dursleys was gone with him. It was a dark night, the night Sirius had died, starless and rigid as the look in his eyes as he had fallen behind the curtain. Harry would never forget it.
Still, things were much better than they had been. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren't afraid of Harry nearly as much as they were of Lupin, Moody, and the Weasleys, ever since the day they had all met at King's Cross station. Umbridge was gone for good, and Hagrid was to teach the Care of Magical Creatures class once again. It seemed so very far away now, Dumbledore's Army, the mistletoe, the time spent with Cho at Hogsmeade, the swirling fireworks Fred and George had set off, the chaos they had wreaked, the sound of Umbridge's screams as the she road away atop the centaurs, the Quidditch Cup...but he smiled and let out a sigh. Sirius was not lost in vain... he would have been proud of them, all of them...
Only a few weeks after the summer had began, he had gotten four letters, three from Hermione, and one from Mrs. Weasley. Harry was to spend all of July in the Burrow, and Hermione would meet them at the Leaky Cauldron before they bought their supplies for their sixth year at Hogwarts.
But a cold wind blew that summer night, unusually cold, sending chills up Harry's spine. He could feel his scar burning, but now it was a dull pain. He realized that Voldemort was now as he used to be– both great and terrible, and even more compelled to destroy Harry than before.
He closed the window quickly, opening his album to the picture of Sirius and his parents he had been given. Harry missed both Sirius and his parents terribly, but never-the-less finished his pointless Divination assignment. As always, it was predicted for him to die a horrible death, either by falling into a manhole or having a large bird scoop him up as prey, Professor Trelawney had returned to Hogwarts, and this time, she was absolutely positive that he would die... or at least that's what she had told him before he left.
What would he write this time? Ah, now he remembered. Harry began to fill the last few lines of his parchment.
And the tea leaves, when interpreted, show the large black dog reappearing; but now, it will come and attack me. I will die within a month of return to school.
That would satisfy Trelawney. His assignments were finished particularly early this year, in hopes of leaving the Dursleys' as soon as possible. This would be his first birthday spent with his friends- his real family, and he could hardly wait to see them again.
The window blew open and the ominous wind swept through again. Uncle Vernon let out a loud snore from the bedroom just down the hall. Harry forcefully closed the windows, locking them from the inside. He crawled into bed, pulling the covers tightly about him.'Not much longer here,' he thought calmly, 'soon I'll be back at Hogwarts...'
He woke up in the morning to one of Dudley's tantrums in the kitchen, which unfortunately was just below Harry's bedroom. And then an argument between Uncle Vernon and a voice he nearly mistook for Mrs. Weasley. And that's just who it was.
"Harry can't spend his summer here- he needs to get his supplies for Hogwarts–"
"We do not use that word in this house!" bellowed Vernon at Mrs. Weasley, "You will leave at once or I will call the authorities!"
Harry packed his trunks as fast as he could while they bickered, taking Hedwig and running downstairs into the kitchen.
"I'm leaving now, Uncle Vernon."
"Hello, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley beamed, "Ready to go?"
Vernon was speechless, his face turning its distinctive purple.
"Let's go now," said Harry, leading her to the fireplace.
Harry took a fistful of floo powder from Mrs. Weasley and shouted, "The Burrow!"
Mrs. Weasley apparated before Vernon could protest.
While the green embers surrounded Harry, he felt a hand reach out and grab his ankle, "Get out of my fireplace!"
Vernon burned his hand and yelled in pain, Harry falling through to the Weasley's fireplace.
"Welcome back, Harry!" said a familiar voice.
"Hermione!"
"Hello Harry. I'm here for the summer while my mum and dad go on vacation together."
Mrs. Weasley set breakfast in front of them at the table, waiting for Fred, George, and Ginny to arrive. They had a small conversation about the year ahead, Harry staring off into space for long periods of time.
"Harry- are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley asked concernedly.
"Yes, I'm fine."
Harry had thought about Sirius almost constantly since he had returned to the Dursleys', and now was no different. He barely noticed Fred and George walk in and tease him about being too young to apparate and having to use floo powder. Ginny entered the kitchen. She would be a fifth year, and she appeared so much older now. How last year had aged them...
His mind often wandered into thoughts of Cho over the first month spent at the Burrow. He missed her, though he hated the way she overreacted at the Hog's Head. She was so incredible, it was hard to ignore her beauty.
Harry's birthday had long since passed. It was late August, the 30th to be exact. Dumbledore had sent them their letters weeks ago. Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Harry sat in the living room, reviewing their lists.
"Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six..." Ron said, sitting in the large armchair. He drawled on. Harry wasn't listening, and apparently, neither was Hermione. "New cauldrons too, mum," said Ron before he read the next book on the list.
For the second time that summer, Harry made to pack his luggage. "We'll be going to Diagon Alley in a few minutes, dears," said Mrs. Weasley prudently.
They traveled by floo powder to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid greeting each as they appeared.
"Well would ye look a' tha'. All grown up, now, aren't ya? Ron, Hermione, and Harry, and... Why Ginny- yer looking jus' like a young lady now."
"Thanks, Hagrid."
Harry glanced at Ginny, causing her to blush a deep red and stay silent until they'd left the Leaky Cauldron. She walked into Flourish and Blott's alone when they passed it, not bothering to tell Mrs. Weasley.
"Don't mind Ginny, she still has a crush on you even though she's got a...boyfriend. She won't tell us who it is, though. Hate it when she does this, don't you?"
"Mmhm..." muttered Harry, obviously not catching a word Ron had said. The joy of returning to Hogwarts, though it had become lessened from Voldemort's return, was still an improvement from the Dursleys'.
They decided to each buy their things separately, then meet at Flourish and Blott's for their books. Harry's first stop was at Gambol and Japes to buy the secretly mass-produced Ton-Tongue taffies. If he was to enjoy his sixth year, it would be better to choke the greedy Slytherins, including Malfoy. Five sickels a pack was more than enough to charge, but Harry knew that Fred and George would ask seven from ordinary customers.
"We can't charge our hero seven sickels," joked Fred.
"Especially one who got rid of Umbridge," said George.
"Besides, Mum can't find out about these, so we have to find a way to keep you quiet."
Harry smiled warmly, "Thanks. I'll take two packs of taffies, then."
George handed Harry two packs and Fred took the money. "When you get back to Hogwarts, send 'em all our regards."
"I will."
He exited Gambol and Japes, going straight to Mullpepper's for his new list of ingredients from Professor Snape.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. Sixth year? I know just what you sixth years have on your lists since so many of you have been 'ere since morning. Just a minute."
Mr. Mullpepper brought Harry his ingredients, looking over them, "New potion vial?"
"Yes."
He inspected them again, "One galleon."
Harry paid Mr. Mullpepper and left the apothecary. After they all had been to get their school supplies (except books), they met at Flourish and Blott's as planned. As Harry reached for the door go in, something flashed behind him. He spun around, but found nothing unusual. His scar seared painfully, and he moved into the shop hesitantly, looking behind him one last time.
Mrs. Weasley spoke to them. "You've all got to buy your books and be out of here as fast as possible. We've got quite a bit of packing to do when we get back home. Alright? Alright. Get going!"
Luckily enough, the books needed were in the first few bookcases in the front of the store. "Advanced Care of Magical Creatures- Poisonous Insects, Dragons and... Dragons!" yelped Hermione. "Hagrid can't be teaching us to care for...dragons...can he?"
Ron and Harry both shrugged. Hermione groaned, taking the book off the shelf. "Why do I have a feeling this year is going to be even more dangerous than the last five?"
"Because Vol– He-who-must-not-be-named, is back," Harry corrected himself.
Ron shuddered. "I think his name's losing meaning, don't you?"
"I think so," laughed Harry.
Ron tried, "V–...Voldem–...Sorry. Voldemort!" It was said in a whisper, as if he was afraid that a dementor lurked around the corner.
Had there been anyone around, the name of Voldemort may have caused a riot even at a whisper; but today the shop was uncommonly bereft of customers.
"Let's go- come on!" Mrs. Weasley said, approaching the front desk. "How much will all this cost, then?"
"Ten galleons and four sickels," replied the cashier.
"T-Ten galleons?" stumbled Mrs. Weasley, "Well, alright... Just a minute."
Harry watched her fumble with knuts and sickels.
"I can take care of it, Mrs. Weasley."
"Nonsense, Harry. I have it." She hid her embarrassment by inspecting her purse, pulling out a handful of galleons. "Still have quite a bit of our prize money left- not to worry."
Harry gaped at the large sum of money. They really did deserve that money, and now Ron could buy a robe that didn't have lace or tears in the seam.
"Off to get your robes now, Ron- dress robes especially. Don't dawdle, Ginny- lots to do still." They came across the shop; inside was Malfoy being fitted for new dress robes.
"Mum- just one curse- please?" Ron asked.
"No no- You're not allowed magic until start of term. Just keep to the opposite side of the room." The walked into Madam Malkin's.
"Hello Mr. Weasley- Molly! And Harry- back so soon?" said Madam Malkin.
Draco turned on the wooden stool with a scowl.
"Wait here- stand on these," she motioned to two stools for Ginny and Ron, Ron being alongside Draco.
"Well Weasley- I see only half your family's here. Have to sell them to pay for your robes? No, of course not. Your entire family wouldn't even be worth a sickel."
Ron lunged at him, but Harry held him back. "No, Ron- you'll fall off."
"Oh, right." Ron got off the stool and punched Malfoy in the stomach. He groaned painfully and stumbled off the stool, stepping on the ends of his robe (which evidently were to be hemmed), tripping and falling down.
Harry and Ron laughed at him, turning away too soon to see Draco rise and leap at Ron, tackling him to the ground. He pulled his wand from his pocket. "Cruc–"
Madam Malkin squealed in terror, "NO MR. MALFOY!" taking his wand from him, "Not in my shop, you won't! You can stay, Ginny. Out- all three of you. You heard me! Your mother will have to come in and get your wand back from me personally for that behavior, Mr. Malfoy."
"You'll be next, Potter," said Malfoy in a huff, walking out of the store to Narcissa across the path.
"Everyone thinks I'm going to die a sudden painful death," grumbled Harry, following Ron out.
"Well that was uncalled for- I'm very disappointed in you, Ron!" shunned Mrs. Weasley.
Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Mum! You saw him in there- he tried to kill me!"
"Because you started a fight with him!"
"He's been talking about us like that for years–"
"–And he always will! Now I don't want to hear any more about him! He's dreadful, I know- but that doesn't give you a reason to start a fight with him! I won't hear any more of this rubbish about defending your family like last time. Now you go in there and apologize to Madam Malkin so you can get your robes and move on!"
Ron obeyed her wishes, but refused to speak to his mother for the remainder of the day, and only spoke to Harry when they were upstairs packing that night.
"Bloody parents, don't know what it's like to have to get insults from him every day."
Harry said, "Well your father hears it every day, you know."
"And look what he's done about it- started that big fight in the middle of Flourish and Blott's, didn't he?"
"There really is nothing you can do about him--"
Ron sighed.
"–Until we're back in school."
He laughed, getting out his new robes, "I have to admit, these are better than the other ones. Remember them?"
"I'm trying not to."
"Yeah...me too. So, let's see what we have here. You've got new robes, too?" Ron looked at his own dejectedly, which were obviously not as well-made.
Harry answered sheepishly, "I needed them. They were getting so short I could have given them to Hermione as a dress."
He faked a smile, "That's true." Changing the subject, he motioned to a pile of newspapers, "I forgot to tell you- I've bought a subscription to the Daily Prophet, and during the year it's to be delivered to the common room."
Picking up the newest Daily Prophet from the stack Ron had by his bed, Harry exclaimed, "Look! It's Dumbledore- he's being commemorated for his duties to the Department of Mysteries for the capture of Bellatrix Lastrange...Why are they mentioning me?"
"Because she tried to kill you."
"No no... As a hero. I didn't do anything to help capture her."
"...Dunno. Probably Fudge's idea."
Harry read the last few lines, "...And it seems Harry Potter has survived He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once again. I hate when they do that."
Ron yawned loudly, "I'm off to bed. See you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Ron."
Harry had a restless night, his thoughts of Sirius and Voldemort prying his eyes open every few hours. It was impossible to sleep when his godfather's death replayed in his mind, his lifeless body falling back behind the veil limply. It played over and over until it woke him up, scar burning. Finally, in the wee hours of morning, he dozed off and didn't awaken until well after seven.
"Time to wake up! Everyone! We only have one hour to get everyone ready!" Mrs. Weasley paced in the hallway. "Everybody up!"
Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and joined the train of red-haired people walking down the staircase to the breakfast table.
"Very good, very good. We all have to get a proper breakfast then dress and get our suitcases into the trunk of the car. Alright?"
"Yes," they all answered sleepily.
"Car?" asked Harry. The other five, including Hermione, stared at Mrs. Weasley.
She explained, "Yes, Arthur got a new car from the Ministry. It's not enchanted to fly like the last one, but we'll still make good time. And no one, that means you two," she glared at the twins, "is allowed to drive but me or your father."
"Oh mum, just a few laps around the muggle towns," joked Fred.
George chimed in, "All we want is to scare the life out of a few of them, maybe throw a few dung bombs or..."
"Which is exactly why I'm not letting you!" snapped Mrs. Weasley, "Probably end up in a Muggle prison, knowing your history. Eat up, and no more about that car, do you understand?"
"Yes."
Both of you?
"Yes mum," they said simultaneously.
"All right, you," she said to Ron, "Get ready to leave. All of you- hop to it! Ginny- get packed?"
"Last night, mum. My luggage is out by the car."
"Excellent. Ron? Your luggage?"
Ron proceeded to walk up the stairs to dress without answering. Harry followed him and tried to talk him out of his silence. "You can't stay mad at your mum."
"Oh really?"
"Well you can," Harry reasoned, "But honestly, Ron, she knows how much you hate Malfoy."
"No she doesn't," said Ron stubbornly, "She doesn't know about anything that we do at Hogwarts. Not what it's really like, anyway."
"Of course she doesn't! But... argh nevermind, Ron, let's go."
"All of you packed? Good, good!" said Mrs. Weasley exuberantly, helping Mr. Weasley with his tie. "Now Arthur... we don't have to look like Muggles on a business trip, lord knows we've looked less like them and attracted less attention to ourselves." She removed his tie. Ron and Harry were just at the bottom of the stairs when Mrs. Weasley gathered all her children and Hermione around her, smiling broadly, "Now, I know you're all excited to be going back to school, but I just wanted to give you all a very helpful hint: Do NOT take the place of Fred and George. The ministry is already having a laugh; word's gotten 'round that they let fireworks loose in the school! I will send a howler to every one of you if anyone steps out of line this year. I regret I'll have to include you too, Harry. Hermione, I don't expect anything rash out of you."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, the exact same thing running through their minds: Hermione had nearly broken as many rules as Ron and Harry last year. Rash decisions were her specialty since she had formed S. P. E. W.
Hermione nodded, "No rash decisions." She glanced over at Harry and Ron's expressions and shrugged as Mrs. Weasley moved on.
"Erm... Molly?" said Mr. Weasley, pointing out the window.
"What?" The car was beginning to move on its own, gulping luggage into its trunk. Mrs. Weasley ran to the car and placed all the luggage she could carry by the trunk. It proceeded to gulp down all of the luggage, while Ron, Hermione, and Harry fed the car their luggage. Once all the luggage was in the trunk, they piled into the car.
"Mum?" asked Ginny.
"Yes dear?"
"...Will we be getting our luggage back?"
"I hope so... Arthur- I thought you said this car wasn't enchanted." Mrs. Weasley folded her arms.
Mr. Weasley seemed a bit hesitant, "Well understand, dear- there weren't many cars left. So, I settled for a car that was... less-enchanted, if you will."
"Arthur!"
"It'll give us the luggage back!"
Mrs. Weasley was silent (save some muttering and a few disgruntled 'hmphs' now and then) for the rest of the ride to King's Cross Station.
Once they had parked, the car spit out their luggage with a large belching sound. "Th-Thank you!" said Arthur hesitantly, dodging Hedwig's cage as it whizzed past his head.
"Accio Hegwig!" Harry uttered, Hedwig's cage flying towards him.
Mrs. Weasley made a check of all their luggage and urged them on toward Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. "I'm so proud of you, Ginny- going on to your fifth year, and a prefect!"
"What?" the three said simultaneously, as Ron, Harry, and Hermione turned around. Ron spoke, "You didn't tell us you were a prefect, Ginny."
"I didn't want to be a prefect, but McGonagall insisted!" said Ginny sadly. "Anyway, I told Mum not to tell you. Prefects are such gits–"
Hermione cleared her throat loudly.
"–No offence. But I'm not supposed to be a prefect!"
"Nonsense Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley with a pat on the back, "You'll do fine. Off you go- the Hogwarts Express leaves in five minutes!"
Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny ran single file at the barrier, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Mum," said Ginny, "We'll be all right. You don't have to follow us anymore."
Mrs. Weasley was almost brought to tears. "...But it's fine if you want to follow us..." Ginny continued.
"It's not that," she sobbed, "You're just all young gentlemen and ladies now!" She hugged each of them, sniffling, "Be good, all of you."
"And if that doesn't work, you can always market some trick candy from Gambol and Jape's!" called Fred. George yelled back, "And make sure to send all our love to Snape! Get the old git this year! Do it for us, Harry. For us!"
The Hogwarts Express cleared the station as soon as they were aboard. Mr. Weasley waved from the platform while Mrs. Weasley yelled at the twins furiously, the noise cut off by the train whistle. "I'm glad Mum and Dad won't be here next time, Ginny," said Ron, groaning as he looked for a free compartment. He came across a girl he hadn't seen before sitting in a compartment by herself.
"Is this seat taken?" Ron asked. As she was about to shake her head, Malfoy shoved Ron out of the way and sat next to her in the compartment.
"Sorry, Weasley. Haven't you got any other girls out of your league to chase?"
"What's your name?" asked Tamora, motioning to Ron not to leave.
Draco held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you. This maggot here is Ron Weasley."
She didn't shake his hand. "I'm Tamora. And you've overstayed your welcome. Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy. Ron?" Ron's jaw dropped as he watched Malfoy leave the compartment in a huff. "...D'you realize you're the only person to successfully reject Malfoy?"
"It was bound to happen eventually. Ron Weasley... I've heard about you before. Your father works at the Ministry; good man. Wait- you were keeper for Gryffindor last year!" The amazement on his face changed to embarrassment.
"Not this year. Do you play Quidditch?"
Tamora crossed her legs, "Actually, I was hoping to try out for keeper."
"But you don't know which team you're on yet!" Ron said, eyebrows raised.
"Oh that's no trouble. I can be keeper no matter what house I'm in. Chocolate Frog?" She held out a bag of candy.
"N-no, I'm fine." Ron also held out a bag of candy, "Oh! I have to go get Harry and Hermione!"
"Harry?" she said, suddenly interested.
"Yeah," he answered, his mouth full of chocolate frogs. "...'arry ot-ern..."
She laughed, "Harry Potter I hope." He noddded. "Well then, I'd like to meet him." Ron smiled, swallowing the candy in one gulp and turning red, "Sorry." He looked very pathetic with his face tinged scarlet and an embarrassed air. "Well Ron, we should get your friends, shouldn't we?"
"Nnno... They'll find us. Tell me about your Quidditch experience." He relaxed, putting his hands behind his head. "Well," she started, "I've been practicing since I was six or seven, and I loved playing a game or two of Quidditch with my father."
"Your father? Do I know him?" Ron leaned forward.
Tamora answered him, "I should think so... but... you promise not to tell anyone if I tell you?" Ron nodded. "Of course. Go on, who is he then?" "Well, he's–"
"Ron!" Hermione said, standing in the doorway of the compartment, "We've been looking all over for you. We're getting close to Hogwarts. Get your robes on!"
"I know, Hermione, I know!" groaned Ron. "Well, Tamora. I'll see you at the Sorting?"
"At the Sorting." She waved as Hermione took his arm and lead him to their compartment down the row. "Her name's Tamora. Must be new this year," said Ron, trying to keep up with Hermione and his arm.
"Yes, yes, that's nice, Ron." She completely disregarded what he said and brought him to Harry. "He's been talking with a girl."
"Oh?" Harry said mischievously, "Who?"
"Tamora... Tamora something. She never did tell me her last name." Ron shrugged.
Harry sat up straight, "So, what did she look like?"
"Oh you two! Honestly!" Hermione huffed, "We've got more important things to do!"
Ron sat down next to Harry, "Well, she had long black hair, and really brown eyes, and... come to think of it, she looked kind of familiar..."
"Pretty?"
"'Pretty' doesn't begin to describe her..." he answered, "And she plays Quidditch... How lucky can you get?"
"We are going to be at the castle in fifteen minutes!" said Hermione hotly, "Now if you'll both listen for just one second–"
"Which position is she trying out for?"
"Keeper. Wicked, eh?"
"RON! HARRY! Hogwarts... fifteen minutes... GET... ROBES!"
"Alright, Hermione- why didn't you say so in the first place?" said Ron, continuing to talk to Harry.
"Immobulus!" yelled Hermione. Ron froze, his mouth open as he was about to say something else, Hermione's spell impeding his conversation.
Harry uttered a counter-curse, "Come on, Ron. Get your robes."
After about ten minutes of quarreling between Ron and Hermione about the use of spells, the Hogwarts Express slowed to a stop.
"Got your robes, Hermione?" Ron teased. Hermione gripped her wand tightly, hitting Ron with her book on purpose as she turned around. As soon as they were off the train, Harry called to the unnaturally noticeable... face... in the crowd.