A/N: This story is an alternate sixth book and the writing style is as similar to JKR's as I could make it, which means dull first half of first chapter, it begins in the summer at the Dursleys, and there will be long chapters. Yup. The italicized paragraph is an extended story summary. I started this story a couple of months before HBP came out, but took the 3 chapters I had finished off of because I stopped writing. It's been a couple of months over a year and I'm back and reviving Harry Potter and the Daughter of Voldemort's Favorite
Harry Potter is hoping to finally have a normal year at Hogwarts with no life-threatening happenings. With the Dark Lord Voldemort more powerful than ever and with his faithful Death Eaters, this proved to be impossible. Harry's hopes are crushed as early as a month before term started. Dumbledore leaves him with the task of looking after the rescued Ena Lestrange, who is of the same age as Harry. The Lestranges are considered some of Voldemort's most devoted followers and were never known to have a child. Ena has betrayed her family and revealed many secrets, but, as much as Harry wished, could he ever fully trust her? Even Dumbledore showed signs of not fully trusting Ena. The Dark Mark looms above Hogwarts before term even had a chance to begin. So much for a normal year...
CHAPTER ONE
S U R P R I S E
"There you go, boy!" Aunt Petunia muttered, as she practically threw a plate of breakfast in front of her nephew, Harry. He was already seated at his everyday spot by the kitchen's dining table. "And you didn't have to work over any hot stove to get it! Be sure to tell those little friends of yours that," she yapped, exposing her horselike teeth, and sat down in front of Harry. He held in a laugh from the memory of Tonks, Lupin, Mr. Weasley, and Moody showing up at King's Cross in the beginning of the summer to threaten the Dursleys about being kind to Harry.
Uncle Vernon was reading the newspaper intently, while taking occasional sips of his coffee. Dudley, across from him, was poking at the vegetable meal that his mother served him. This dietary food and his boxing training were reasons that he was no longer as immensely obese as he was in the past years. Yet his resemblance to a pig lingered.
"Er — thanks. . . Aunt Petunia," mumbled Harry to break the silence before taking a bite.
"Well. . . . your welcome," replied Aunt Petunia awkwardly, desperate not to sound too kind, "But there's no real need to thank me, it's not like I went through much trouble just to prepare a meal." Uncle Vernon grunted approvingly.
"No, not thanks for the food —" Harry started, "Well, yes that too — but I really wanted to thank you for. . . you know. . ." Harry was finding it very hard to say what he had been planning on. Aunt Petunia shot him a nervous look.
"Thank her for what?" said Uncle Vernon finally bringing down the newspaper. "Well? Go on, boy!" he demanded obsessively. His purple face was growing a more intense shade of violet, just as it always did when he felt the slightest of stress or anger.
Harry looked up into his Aunt's face. "I just wanted to thank you — a lot — for," he took a breath and just blurted it out, "for taking me in, keeping me alive. . . . I mean — well — keeping me safe from. . . Him. . . you being the only one left with the same blood as my mother's and all. . . Dumbledore finally told me. So, thanks."
This seemed to have touched a nerve in Aunt Petunia. She was looking at Harry as she had only done once before, which was last summer when she found out that Voldemort had returned. Just as Harry felt then, he felt it again. He let out a true smile at the look on her face, relieved that she'd understood what he was talking about.
The room fell silent for quite a while. Dudley had either been unsurprisingly stupid enough to not have noticed anything out of the ordinary, or simply had no care in the world for anything that went on involving Harry. The only sound was of Uncle Vernon's many-chinned neck working hard to keep the head above it constantly looking at both Harry and Aunt Petunia over and over again.
Unwilling to be interrogated by his uncle, Harry finished his breakfast, set his dishes in the sink, and started out of the room. He turned and galloped up the stairs and entered his pig sty of a room, with a bulky, still packed, trunk against the wall. His most prized nonliving possession, a Firebolt broomstick, was displayed leaning against it. There was an opened, empty cage, belonging to Harry's only true friend in the house: his owl, Hedwig, of course. Harry had allowed her to hunt and fly freely outside.
Harry strode over and sat at his bedside. He turned to look out the window onto the street of number four, Privet Drive. It was a typical cloudless, sunny day. All the visible lawns of the square houses were unbelievably perfect and clean cars were gleaming in their driveways. Last year's hosepipe ban due to drought was obviously a temporary one. This summer was receiving much more rain and cool breezes.
As he stared out the window, Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was being watched again. "Never mind that," he said to himself, finally taking his eyes off the outdoors. Anytime he would begin to think of anything relating to the happenings of last year, he would immediately push the thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn't want to be reminded of any of it.
It has been three weeks away from Hogwarts and being back with the Dursley's was going much better than he expected. Dudley finally stopped being a nuisance and Uncle Vernon finally stopped nagging every second. Harry theorized that his uncle had been traumatized, or some sort, ever since he saw Mad-Eye's mad eye. Best of all, he hadn't gotten a single nightmare or scar pain. Harry sighed. For the first time since he had found out about the Order of the Phoenix, Harry decided to just allow them to do all the worrying for him. This was going to be a great year, he could feel it! Soon it'll be my birthday, he thought, and, before I know it, back home to Hog— There was a knocking sound at his window by a familiar owl's beak. However, it wasn't Hedwig.
"Moody's owl? Again?" Harry said looking over at the window, before getting up and opening it.
The large, gray owl fluttered onto Harry's desktop and held out its leg that had a rolled up piece of parchment tied to it. Harry grabbed a quill and ink before taking his letter. When the owl didn't fly away, Harry knew it was another return mail letter just as all the other ones he had been receiving at least every other day.
Dear Harry,
Just writing to check if everything's okay over there again. Remember, if anything goes wrong, or those Muggles give you any trouble, write to me on the back of this letter right now,
-Alastor Mad-Eye Moody
P.S. Be seeing you no sooner than you'd want
It was exactly what Harry expected. He wrote that everything was going fine on the back of a letter for about the thousandth time this summer. I'm, probably not being tailed if they're sending me this many letters asking if I'm okay, he thought. Harry retied the parchment to the leg of the other owl. He didn't know when exactly, but he knew he would be seeing everyone again soon. Things were going quite well here anyway, so he decided he wouldn't mind a bit of a wait. He then sent off the delivery owl.
- - -
BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP! Harry's alarm clock was going off at 8 o'clock in the morning of July's ending day. Harry took his glasses from his bed-side and shoved them on. He scurried out of bed and made his way to his wardrobe. After greeting a returned Hedwig, who was also awakened by the beeping alarm, Harry flung open the closet door, and looked at his own reflection in the full-length mirror hung on the other side of it.
"Happy birthday!" he said, smiling at his now sixteen year old self. Harry changed out of his pajamas when his smile faded into a frown. He had been waiting patiently to meet his friends again, but all his patience disappeared at that very second. They kept saying soon, even at King's Cross at the beginning of summer, but when was "soon"? The only mail he was getting was those from Moody and felt taken aback at the thought that he hadn't even felt angry about this sooner. Perhaps it was because the Dursleys were treating him less like a dog.
He looked at the mirror again and saw his angry expression, then noticed a stream of smoke coming from the foot of his bed. Harry turned to find that the strange smoke was emitting from a small, round object. It was making a whistling sound that grew steadily louder. Harry knelt next to it, and saw his green eyes staring back at him from his face's reflection off the sphere. The second he lay a finger on it to pick it up, he felt a sudden jerk from somewhere behind his navel. His knees and feet were no longer touching the floor of his bedroom. He instinctively tried to release his grip on the object, but couldn't. It was pulling him through a whirl of colors. He knew this feeling all too well, he had just touched a portkey. But this made no sense. How did it get in his room? More importantly, where was it taking him?
Harry was relieved to remember he had slipped his wand into his pocket after changing. An instant later, Harry slammed into solid ground with a thump and the portkey vanished from his grasp. He was inside a large room of a sort he could not yet tell, being as he was facing a wall. He went into a stand clumsily, yet as fast as he could. He then fumbled his wand out, heard another thump, and abruptly raised his wand at the boy who had just appeared face-down onto the floor in front of him.
"SURPRISE!" Harry heard a crowd of people yell from behind. He swirled around and saw them. Nearly everyone he knew from the magical world smiling at him. "What the—!" Harry began, then turned and looked back down at Neville Longbottom, who gasped from behind him, still on the ground. The two of Harry's best friends ran towards the both of them. Hermione Granger, in the lead, Ron Weasley on her heels.
"Oh Harry! Happy birthday! — Sorry we weren't so soon — It was a surprise! — were you surprised? — I was so worried! — are you okay?" Hermione uttered while giving Harry a suffocating hug. He just stood frozen and openmouthed when Hermione let go of him. This all happened so fast he didn't know what to think. His usually sharp mind had grown dull over the past weeks. First of all, where am I? He thought, looking around. He was in an enormous, rectangular room just smaller than the Hogwarts Great Hall. It was very well lit by a variety of chandeliers and had a beige floor and walls. One long table filled with a buffet of food was near the opposite wall. There were two gigantic, wooden doors on one of the two shorter walls and a grand fireplace opposite that. Hermione had already moved on to Neville, who's birthday, Harry remembered from a certain prophecy, was the same day as his.
Next, who's here? Harry thought to himself again. Ron, gave him hard pats on his back that made his knees buckle slightly.
"Happy birthday, Harry! Fred and George were the one's who—"
"Wait." Harry interrupted Ron. He was scanning around at the others who stood around himself and Neville. All the D.A. members Harry could think of at the moment were here, and so were all the Weasleys, except Percy. Harry tip-toed to look over the people closely gathered around him and saw Neville's grandmother, Fred and George, and members of the Order of the Phoenix all chatting in a distance next to the end of the long table. Of all the members of the Order that Harry knew of were there except for Madame Maxime. Harry then noticed Professor Snape missing, which was much more than alright with Harry. Especially since Harry was never going to forgive him about taunting Sirius about being stuck in hiding last year. Harry quickly everted his attention from the thought and continued looking around. Viktor Krum was talking with Hermione, who had slipped out of the crowd.
"Sorry Ron, I just needed a second to think," he told Ron who was still at his side.
"Oh it's all right mate, I understand. Anyways, Fred and George were the one's who set this whole thing up, I'd bet as a big thanks for you giving them the galleons to get the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes rolling and all." Ron began to explain so fast it sounded almost gibberish, "Me and Hermione made the invitation list. I didn't think we should allow that Zacharias Smith to come, but Hermione insisted all the D.A. members ought to be here." He gave a loathing glare in the direction of Hermione and Krum.
"And she just had to bring Vicky alo—" Ron was broken off by the jostling, Hogwart's students and former students, all determined to greet Harry.
"Happy Birthday Harry, Neville!" was what Harry was hearing over and over again. The only daughter and youngest of the Weasley children, Ginny, and her recent boyfriend, Dean Thomas, greeted Harry and Neville together, and walked off holding hands. Michael Corner and his friends were next to pay respect to Neville and Harry. Harry saw Michael give a repugnant look over at Ginny and Dean, whom Ron was also eyeing with the same disliking face.
The crowd engulfing Harry and Neville finally faded into the buffet, giving Harry a better look at the adults.
"Happy birthday, Neville," Harry said to Neville's awestruck face. Neville blinked and looked over.
"Wha— oh, thanks — er — happy birthday to you too," said Neville, and put an awkward grin over his face. Harry smiled back at him.
"Happy birthday, Harry," said a girl's voice. Harry spun around, to come face- to-face with none other than Cho Chang, and her much hated friend Marietta Edgecombe. Ron snorted and Harry's stomach lurched, not because of a crush like in the previous two years this time though, but at the shock that he had forgotten completely about Cho. He'd known that she got together with Michael Corner shortly after Ginny had broken-up with him.
"Oh, hey Cho," Harry replied naturally.
"And sneak — ow!" Harry elbowed Ron's side before he could make any further insults, although he couldn't suppress a smirk.
"See!" yelled Marietta pointing. "I told you we shouldn't have come!" Cho looked down and shook her head, then led Marietta away.
"I'm going to talk to Dumbledore," Harry told Ron, but before he could even begin to move in the direction of the headmaster of Hogwarts, Ron grabbed his arm and jerked him to face Krum who was heading their way with Hermione.
"Happy birthday, Harry," he said in his usual Bulgarian accent. "I haff not talked vith you in a long time, no?"
"Thanks, good to see you again," said Harry, and shook Krum's outstretched hand. Harry hadn't met him a single time after his fourth year.
"And Ron Veesleaves." Krum turned and put his hand up to Ron.
"Oh, hi Vicky Krummy," Ron said casually and shook a puzzled looking Krum's hand. Hermione scowled at Ron.
"My name is Victor Krum," he said.
"Blimey it is? I must have mispronounced it, sorry," Ron replied rudely.
"Viktor, can you get me some punch please?" asked Hermione quickly in a sweet voice. "Sure, Hermy-ownee," said Krum, and he tread off towards the long table.
"He still can't say your name right? Well, at least it's improved since 'Hermy-own-ninny'," Ron gave Hermione a falsely innocent smile.
"I don't know why your acting this way!" yelled Hermione, "You were just fine an hour ag—"
"NO WAY!" Ron bellowed, gasping.
"What?" Harry and Hermione asked at the same time turning to look at what Ron was overreacting about. On the other side of the room Ginny and Dean Thomas were hands in hands. Dean had just kissed Ginny lightly on the lips. She made an appalled face then giggled without blushing.
"OH NO HE DIDN'T!" Ron yelled furiously, and began stomping off in their direction. Hermione and Harry both lunged after him and grabbed his arms. He didn't fight back and stood immobilized with an utmost despising look. Ginny was smiling broadly at Dean, until she caught her brother's glaring eyes. Her smile instantly vanished and she dragged off Dean to the crowd that was now surrounding the long table.
"I can't believe Dean! I can't believe Ginny! Don't you think she's way too young to be getting all serious with a guy, he's a year older than her too! And there they are right in front of everybody!" Ron shouted looking at Harry and Hermione as though to back him up.
"She's not too young Ron," said Hermione in an irritated voice. "She's a year older than we were when we attended the Yule Ball, and at least Dean is better than that Michael Corner, who, I might add, Cho broke up with. I trust she was having second thoughts as soon as the news spread about our 'heroism'," she looked to Harry for a moment. Ron looked away and mumbled to himself.
"Besides," she continued, "you say it as if Dean being one year older than her is so bad. Have you honestly never noticed that Viktor is on his second year out of school? Which means he is three years older than me, and you never said there was anything wrong about us," she paused to look at him.
"She's got a point you know," said Harry, "and she did turn out to be old enough to face Death Eaters with us last year, didn't she?"
"Fine! If both of you are going to be against me," grumbled Ron.
"Dumbledore vood like a vord vith you, Harry." Viktor had returned.
"Oh, thanks," Harry said, happy for the excuse to leave his two friends, who were bound to have another argument.
Harry heard Hermione's voice fade away as he walked further from them. Nearby, Luna Lovegood was showing Neville, Angelina Johnson, Lavender Brown, and Colin and Dennis Creevey a special edition of the Quibbler, which Harry saw had a front cover picture of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mundungus Fletcher, looking like a drunkard as always, was asleep at the nearer end of the long table.
"Harry!" Fred and George, said simultaneously stepping in between him and his destination of Dumbledore. They were both wearing purposely rugged pants and vests of deep green that were scaly, Harry could tell were made out of dragon leather.
"We know Dumbledore's got to talk with you," said Fred.
"but we must tell you about our new invention that got you here!" George completed the sentence.
"Well, you see, that ball doodle we put in your room last night was actually a portkey and—"
"Wait," Harry cut off Fred, " I understand the portkey part, but you two were in my room?"
"Yep, that's right!" George answered happily.
"We Apparated at your aunt and uncle's in the middle of the night—" said Fred.
"But not in your room of course—"
"The crack and pop of us Apparating would wake you—"
"So we ended up Apparating and Disapparating in the muggles' kitchen. . ." George finishing. "Enough about that—"
"Right." replied Fred, "That orb-shaped portkey we slipped into your room was programmed to set off its whistle at the same time as the one we put in Neville's room when he was sleeping—"
"So you two would pick it up at almost the same time—" George continued.
"We knew you set your alarm clock early and planned on dressing as soon as you got up—" said Fred.
"We had help from Neville's granny to get him up and at 'em early—" George said indicating Neville's grandmother, who was not too far behind them.
"And this place here," said Fred outstretching both arms and looking around. "Is the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes's Party House." He dropped his hands and smiled radiantly at George who turned to Harry.
"As soon as we invented the Triple P. (Portable Programmable Portkey), which took many days of long, intensive work," he said shaking his head slowly before continuing, "we decided to buy this here place to rent out to people who are buying a Triple P. and need a place if they would be planning something like what we've done for you!"
"And Neville," Fred reminded his brother, then looking back at Harry, said, "It was supposed to be just for you, but Hermione and Ron were going to invite him when they realized when his birthday was. . ."
"Hold on a second. You knew I planned on getting up early today? But how?" asked Harry feeling bewildered.
"That, Mr. Potter, was my doing," said a low growl-toned voice. Moody stepped into the conversation, "I bewitched every single parchment I sent you through owl post with a charm that allowed me to find out if you wrote lies and any plans kept in your head." He put a pleased smile on his heavily scarred face, and his magical eye swivelled in its socket. "Just in case you were being held captive and forced to write lies, or you were planning on running away in desperation to see us again." His magical eye's pupil suddenly stopped swivelling and remained hidden, looking through the back of his head, where the two colossal entrance doors were. He stood attentively for a couple of seconds, grunted, and turned to Dumbledore. Fred and George shrugged to each other.
"Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully while pulling Harry into a tight squeeze.
"Don't hurt the poor kid, Mum," said the eldest of the Weasley children, Bill. His long red hair was in a low ponytail and he was wearing clothes that would make you think his career was in a rock band.
"How's it going Harry? Long time no see," it was Charlie, Ron's second oldest sibling, back from Romania where he studies dragons. He had a freckle covered face and a short, muscular built.
"I was doing okay, but now I'm great!" Harry answered truthfully.
"Well you really deserve this. Thanks to you, our kid bros got their business going and are filthy rich!" said Bill. "Not to mention, they're sharing some of their wealth with us," he finished while Charlie chuckled.
"Harry! Just the one I've been so eager to talk to!" Mr. Weasley said loudly adding to the Weasleys in front of Harry. "I've informed your aunt and uncle of your being here and I got your trunk and broom back at Grimmauld Place," he said then dropped to a whisper. "I nicked that strange clock device from your room if you don't mind. I must say, it's simply fascinating!" he smiled at Harry. Fred and George seemed to have gotten bored and decided to leave, mumbling about the disappointment of their friend Lee Jordan not being able to come and who they could play a prank on.
"Yes, that's fine," responded Harry, "But how come you brought my stuff to Grimmauld Place? Why not the Burrow?" Harry began to look at his feet. He always tried hard to never think about the matter, but anytime a subject would come up with anything to do with Sirius, he couldn't help but have a horrible sorrow feeling inside him.
Mrs. Weasley was beckoned away by Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shaklebolt. Tonks's hair was as jet-black as Harry's and perfectly spiked today. She was a Metamorphmagus, which meant she could change her appearance at will, but she usually just changed the looks of her hair. Kingsley was a tall, black, bald wizard with a very distinct low voice.
"Well," Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, "Sorry, we were ignoring you a bit there, when you arrived. Decided to have a little Order meeting, we did, about Fred and George joining the Order. We won't let them though, for sure. They've got two booming businesses that should be enough for them to handle," he said changing the subject. "Now then, you must speak to Dumbledore," he completed, and stepped aside giving Harry a clear path to Dumbledore.
"Ah, Harry Potter. Splendid to see you again," said Dumbledore in his soft, kind voice. "I have important business we must discuss."
"Sure, Professor, what is it?" said Harry. Dumbledore turned to Moody next to him, whose magical eye was still fixed on the entrance doors.
"Snape's got the girl, he's coming in," Moody said then put both eyes on Dumbledore. Harry felt horrified that his least favorite teacher at Hogwarts, and more, and Neville's biggest fear was going to show up at their birthday party. But he had no idea whatsoever of this girl Moody spoke of.
"Perfect timing," Dumbledore said calmly turning to face the gigantic double-doors. There was a loud creak as the doors cracked open. The whole Party House fell silent as everyone turned to look over at the doors.
Snape swept in, clutching a girl, who appeared to be in her mid-teens, by her upper arm, and taking her directly to where Dumbledore, Harry, and Moody stood. Snape's hair seemed greasier than ever and his face expressionless. The very sight of Snape gave Harry a burning feeling within him. The girl looked so filthy, Harry considered the idea that they had picked her up as a homeless, laying in a dark alley. Her all black clothes were ripped and weather beaten. She was extremely scrawny as though she had a severe eating disorder or was starved, and had thick, would-be-shining, dark hair.
Snape arrived in front of Dumbledore acting like Harry was wearing his invisibility cloak.
"Well done, Severus!" said Dumbledore sounding pleased. "You have come through yet again."
"'Tis my pleasure, Dumbledore," Snape replied in his cold voice while releasing his grip on the girl's arm. Everyone remained quiet and watching, but the adults took no notice of this. Harry saw her left eye, which was hooded and unpleasantly familiar, her other eye was covered by her hair.
"Dumbledore!" she squealed, and wrapped her skinny arms around Dumbledore's waist while a couple of dry sobs escaped her.
"There there, dear child," said Dumbledore patting the weeping girl's back. "I have someone for you to meet." he turned to Harry as the girl released her hug.
"Ena, meet Harry Potter," he said and Harry shook the girl named Ena's hand. "Harry, this is Ena. . . Lestrange." Harry instinctively jerked his hand away. There was a sudden intake of breath in the room by the majority of the eavesdroppers who recognized the last name. Harry noticed Ron and Hermione walk slowly closer to come behind him.
The terror of seeing his godfather being killed sprung into him. Bad experiences were flashing through his mind like when he was taking Occlemency lessons alone from Snape, but these memories were more recent and more unhappy.
Harry couldn't block them out, like he had all summer.
"No." he whispered under his breath.
"Yes, Harry. Ena is the daughter of Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange." said Dumbledore.
A/N: The ONLY edits I made before re-putting this were the author's notes and removing silly character and past events recaps! (I was a newb at fanfics and had put in a bunch of recaps like in the beginnings of the second and third books) Everything else I kept the same as it was a year and however many months ago, BEFORE HBP came out. So anything you might think I got the idea for from the HBP book, I didn't. It was weird reading this over myself because it was so long ago when I wrote it that I didn't remember bits and pieces. Like Ron saying "oh no he didn't" made me laugh. I got a strange image of Rupert Grint doing that whole snapping thing if you know what I mean.