Harry Potter and the Emerald raindrop

AkashaWinters

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse. Anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars. I only make exceptions for poor people in remote corners the world who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the over priced 1,000 page books. I'm not making any money from my poor attempt at fanfiction. Also for this page, Joan Aiken wrote A Necklace of Raindrops and I do not own any of the rights.

Summary: Harry is about to enter his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. A battle is brewing and all magical world.Harry, a 17-year-old wizard, has the wizarding world's hopes and dreams resting on his shoulders. But even he a hero needs some help sometimes. He is left with only one clue: he must search for the Weapon of the North Wind in order to win the war against Lord Voldermort. During the summer, he takes a trip with the Dursley's to a Manor in Scotland where he meets a group of gypsies who are making their way to Hogwarts to seek refuge from Death Eater attacks. The beginning of Harry's Seventh Year beings...

AN: WARNING SLASH, don't like, don't read. HPSS. !Powerful Harry

Inspiration and fairytale

AN: When I was five years old, someone read me the story A Necklace of Raindrops by Joan Aiken. It's my favourite fairytale of all time. The fairytale is my inspiration for this story. You can read it at http/ internettrash dot com/users/onceuponatime/necklaceofraindrops dot htm

Now on with the story…enjoy! WRITEN BEFORE HBP, book six did not happen. Chapter 1 Letters from Home

"Boy! Get the post!" yelled uncle Vernon as Harry slipped the last piece of crispy bacon onto his relative's plate.

It was the middle of the summer holidays, late July. The summer before Harry's seventh year had once again brought about a heat wave which had started the previous week and still showed no signs of letting up. The warm whether was a welcome change for Harry who spent the majority of the year in the colder climate of Scotland. It made his daily chores such as cutting the lawn, weeding the garden or cleaning Uncle Vernon's gleaming company car uncomfortable under the intense sun. He also had to endure the complaints of his relatives over their parched lawn and Dudley's crimson and peeling sunburn, all of which were naturally Harry's fault. Harry pushed the stack of letters next to his uncle's place and turned to retrieve some bread and butter for his own breakfast.

"Phone bill, Water, Gas…letter from Marge," Uncle Vernon pulled open the letter and skimmed through it. "…Regret to inform you that Puddle kin's health is not good…couldn't possibly leave him with part-time workers…. hopefully see you, Petunia and your wonderful son during the October break."

"Oh! What a pity!" Petunia exclaimed "I was looking forward to a trip into London"

"You said you'd take me to the Mega Store Sports Shop! You said you'd buy me my new trainers!" Dudley whined, his piggy face screwed up as if he'd just swallowed a cockroach cluster.

"Of course you'll get them son! We want only the best for our hard working boy. We'll take a trip into London anyway." Vernon concluded pushing the bills aside and retrieving his last letter.

Harry was not in the least upset that Aunt Marge would not be visiting this summer In fact he could not believe his luck He ducked into the lounge and did a quick victory dance. Last summer, when Marge had visited, she had made him give Puddle kins her new favourite bulldog a bath when he had got his paws covered in paint He had jumped onto the newly painted bench in the garden, Harry could have sworn that the dog had done it deliberately and while washing the damn thing with Marge's Strawberry Puppy-wash Shampoo("for the adorable pink pooch") the beast had taken a chunk out of his right hand. Conveniently, not being able to use magic had left him with a permanent scar.

Harry was startled from his thoughts by a strangled sound coming from the next room. Hurriedly returning to the kitchen, he found a smug look plastered across his uncle's piggish face.

"At last!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed, brandishing a crisp white letter in his hand. "Grunnings has been formally recognised as "technology of the future." Our company has been invited to attend a meeting and presentation with the European Building Committee who is willing to sponsor our company! We're going to Scotland!"

"Scotland?" Petunia asked, her face turning from excitement to disappointment in a matter of seconds.

"Yes, the committee will be meeting at Great North Manor, which is a private estate owned by one of the committee members. As guests of honour we have been invited to stay in the Manor with… 'Sir Michael Wood.'" Uncle Vernon read off the letter. "A lot of very important people will be there, this is Grunnings big chance!"

"Well, I suppose the weather there will be slightly cooler, it will be better for Duddly kin's skin. Where exactly in Scotland will we be, dear?" Petunia asked still uncertain of visiting 'the wet land.'

"Not far from Aberdeen. You and Dudley could take day trips into the city I'm sure a lot of the meetings will be very long and I'll only need you there for the presentation." Uncle Vernon said dismissively, eyes glued to the all-important letter as he re-read it for the firth time.

"Oh! That's excellent!" Petunia exclaimed "We'll find somewhere to buy your trainers Dudders!"

Dudley grunted from where he was watching T.V.

Harry felt it was prudent to butt in at this point, "so…um, what about me?"

Vernon started at this unforeseen problem and frowned "Well we're not leaving you here to wreck the house while we're gone, that's for sure!"

"What about leaving him with Mrs. Figg, dear?" Petunia suggested. Harry groaned, although Mrs. Figg was friendly and staying with her would mean he could get updates on the wizarding world since she was a Squib, she was still an old women who went to the shops in tartan slippers and wore her hair in curlers.

"Not for a week, dear!" Vernon exclaimed. "And what if he does some funny stuff? What if he runs away, then we'll have those freaks of his after us!"

Harry opened his mouth to give his uncle the assurance that he was not going to do any 'funny stuff', nor was he going to 'run away'until he realised that according his past record, he was likely to end up doing both.

"He'll have to come with us" Vernon concluded although he did not seem too happy with the idea. "We'll find something that'll keep him out of the way. We leave on Thursday."

After the drama of breakfast had concluded, Harry went for a walk round the neighbourhood, his mind wondered to their trip to Scotland. Scotland…how he missed it. He loathed Surrey, with its urban scenery; the perfect little houses all lined up in rows the gleaming with their cars and square lawns. Not far from Aberdeen…was Hogwarts near Aberdeen? Harry had no idea. Few knew the actual location of Hogwarts since it was spelled to be un-mapable and hidden. Maybe he could find Hogsmead? Or did the village have a similar charm on it? Even if it didn't, Scotland was a vast place, the likelihood of being anywhere near Hogwarts was next to nothing. But still, it was nice to think that maybe home was not so far away. How he missed Hogwarts where the air felt alive with magicHere it was dead Not even the immaculate plants seemed to radiate magic as they did at Hogwarts.

Harry turned back towards Privet Drive as the sun began to set, his mind filled with images of magic and laughter.