Chapter Two
By EldarSunday, June 15th, 1997
Being able to use Lumos, Harry decided, was a definite advantage to being a wizard. He, Ron, and Hermione were in a cave in Northern Scotland, where a Horcrux was supposedly secreted away. They had gotten word of it several days beforehand and apparated to the vicinity of the cave. After assuring themselves that it was the real thing, they advanced into the cave, pausing every so often to recast a Lumos that had died out.
Along their advance, they'd encountered a number of creatures that the three friends hadn't expected to encounter outside of a Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Once, they even saw a Chimera! Ron was constantly complaining about their slow rate of advance, while Hermione was always trying to figure out what was going to be next, based upon the past Harry decided that they'd most likely kill each other before reaching the Horcrux.
"Listen!" Ron hissed in the half-life, holding up his hand. "Something's different." A loud rumble accented his remark. "I think we should move away from here." He started looking around, at the ceiling; walls; doors; anything that a creature could come through. A louder rumble hit the air, causing several walls to shudder.
He awoke, after long, long, years of slumber. His yellow eyes looked around the great circular room that he had inhabited for the past half-century. His tongue flickered out, tasting the air, something didn't seem right. With a massive effort, he drew his sinuous body up, and started moving along the paths made especially for him.
"Something's not right here." Harry said, moving his wand into a readier grip. "We're being followed, and there's no Inferi present."
-not only spiders fear it, the dead will avoid this great beast at all costs-
"Harry." Hermione said gently, "how do you know that there's Inferi at every Horcrux location? You've only been to one, not counting this, and there was Inferi there, is that enough to say that there's Inferi at every Horcrux location?" Her voice was inquisitive, but not overly so.
"Yes." Harry said flatly. "If they're really as powerful as everybody believes them to be, then there's no reason for him not to have them at every location such as a Horcrux."
Onward the group of friends went, deeper into the cave that held a Horcrux.
"Oh, shit!" Ron yelled, pointing at the top of the tunnel they were currently in with his wand. The two others' faces went up, looking into the sickly, unnatural, darkness. They thought that they could make out two luminous eyes looking down at them, but a second glance told them that there wasn't anything there. "I thought I saw something moving up there, something very large, something I hope I never see again." His whole body was shaking, and his voice was no exception.
-it is rumored that Salazar Slytherin had one of these magnificent beasts as a pet, but that is all it is, rumors-
"Point me." Harry whispered, concentrating on the Horcrux. The wand in his hand turned so that it was pointing to the Northwest, with a breath of relief Harry led the group that way. Every so often, Ron would look around, trying to see if the thing he'd seen earlier would re-appear. To the group's relief, and especially his, it never did.
"Harry, do you know what that smell is?" Ron asked after fifteen minutes. A smell of rotting meat and decomposing…things had reached his nose. A breath of hot air followed it on the back of his neck. Ron slowly turned around, his eyes, thankfully, looking down at the pool of water and saliva forming at his feet. In the pool's reflection he saw a large blue-green, scaly head that was impossible to mistake for anything other than the great snake created by an ancient Greek Dark Wizard, a Basilisk of the Old Breed.
Exactly how hatching a chicken's egg under a toad created such a monstrosity, Harry didn't know, especially when a chicken egg, regardless of where it's hatched, will always hatch as a Chicken or Rooster (Providing that its been fertilized), not a snake. But, he knew that the things were deadly and very vicious. From the look on its scaly face, Harry guessed that it had been sleeping and was just disturbed from its slumber.
Harry and Ron both drew their wands, Harry turning around to face the beast; the spells on their lips lay forgotten as the gazed on the majestic snake that had the look of a born predator. Harry's mind recovered quickest and his mind started racing for another spell. "Reducto!" He cried, using the first curse that came to mind.
The red dart that erupted out of his wand connected with the Basilisk in the right eye. With a shriek of pain the basilisk swung its head around, narrowly missing the trio of friends, but the walls weren't unscathed.
The far wall was knocked by the flailing tail of the snake and was falling; at the same instant, having lost their support, the walls nearest the trio of friends started falling inward, towards the small group.
"Protego." Harry muttered before the walls came to close, close being nose-to-stone with the wall. A hemisphere of energy five meters in diameter popped into existence right in front of his wand.
But still, the rocks of the wall fell.
After the dust settled, the three managed to stand up; albeit, in Harry's case, with support. Supporting each other the three walked around the corpse of the Basilisk and looked into the hole it had gouged into the wall. Looking into the newly exposed room the trio was immediately gratified for all their hard work.
"Ravenclaw's Ring." Whispered Hermione as she looked upon the raised altar in the middle of the room. "Almost seems too convenient." She said mainly to herself. She looked on the far end of the wall, and the entrance of the room. Stone statues of various beasts were facing the open archway, but they were cracked, and, in some places, completely broken off. "Ahh…" She said in understanding.
With a completely assured stride she walked over to the Ring on the altar. It was set in a pool, like the locket was. A cup was placed next to the pool, it's outside engraved with a snake motif. She took the cup and dunked it in the pool. She then brought it out, and promptly poured it on the floor.
After repeating the process many times, she reached in and took the ring.
Unseen and unheard to all, a magical pulse was sent out. Best described as a magical alarm, the pulse raced out of the cave and headed to Little Hangleton, the place Lord Voldemort had decided to make his headquarters.
Friday, September 19th. 1997
He was screwed, he knew that much. He had gone into the Death Eater encampment looking for any clue to help out him and his friends in the hunt for the Horcrux's, which was beginning to look like a monumental task, fit only to those who were legends.
He was around the makeshift kitchen when it happened. A Death Eater, most likely trying to steal some food from the kitchen, was looking around the back when he was spotted.
Calling for reinforcements, the Death Eater quickly cast a stunning spell, which served to knock him out. When he came to, he was in a nondescript chamber that was their sorry excuse for a prison. Anyway, he was confronted with a gloating Draco Malfoy who waltzed in, arrogant as hell was painful, and was informed that his execution would be held the next day, in Knockturn Alley, courtesy of the Dark Lord
"Hey." He heard somebody say. "Black haired kid, you got a smoke?"
Monday, September 2nd, 1991
Professor Severus Snape was not a man naturally inclined towards liking children, nor was he inclined to like Potters, no matter if they were mudbloods, half-bloods, or pure-bloods. So, when a auburn-haired, hazel-eyed young girl who answered to the surname Potter entered his classroom, he was disinclined to like her. As it was, he was currently going through the roll-call and hoped that he could trip her up, though he didn't think that he could…
"Longbottom…" He said, his voice brokering no argument from the many students in the classroom. He went down the list until he got to the name that he did not want to see in his remaining lifetime, a name that he didn't want to see if he could help it. "Potter…"
"Here." The auburn-haired, hazel-eyed girl he'd hoped fervently wasn't the latest Potter-spawn replied.
"Miss Potter. Our…New…Celebrity." He dragged the last word out, making it to be great insult. "Tell me, Miss Potter. What is the difference between Monkswood and Wolfsbane?"
"I don't believe that there is any difference." The girl replied with a voice betraying just how nervous she was about the answer.
"You're right." Snape thought he might've seen a little of Lily in this girl…He brought himself back to the task at hand. "However, it also goes by Aconite in the Muggle World. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" He was very sure that she wouldn't get this one, it was in the advanced potions book.
"I…Don't know sir." She said, then. "Wait…I've heard my parents mention this…It's…It's…The potion of sleeping death?" Her voice was hesitant, almost questioning herself, but that couldn't be, all native Potters were arrogant fools.
"No, the drought of sleeping death. It's a sleeping potion so powerful that it can put one in a comatose state for months on end." Snape was surprised by his tone, usually (he thought) as hard as nails, it could give a cotton ball a run for its money. "Miss Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a Bezoar?" He smiled grimly.
"I…I don't know, sir." She said.
"Tut, tut, Miss Potter, only one and a half out of three, you'll have to better to pass my class. He then turned to the rest of the class. "Well, why aren't you writing this down? Think you'll remember it do you?"
There was a massive rustle as the students, both Slytherin and Gryffindor, rushed to get at their quills and write down the new information. After five minutes, and a large amount of ink, Snape looked around and started pairing them up as partners.
"Misses Potter and Granger, you're partners." He said acidly as he walked by the two, who'd started a fast friendship.
After the class was partnered up, Snape set the instructions on the board and showed them the Student Potion Ingredient Cupboard. He then set them loose to see how well they'd do on a basic anti-boil potion, Madame Pomfrey needed some more.
After the period was over, Snape walked among the smoking cauldrons, grading the substances inside. He started on the Gryffindor side and immediately started with his comments.
"That's not good enough." He said at Seamus and Ron's cauldron. "I know, we'll drop your frog in there!" At Neville and Dean's. "Is it supposed to be a yellow color?" At Parvati and Lavender's. And, "Impressive, but useless, you added the hinkypunk cap too early." At Hermione and Emily's.
Once he got to the Slytherin his comments turned into praise that would've put even the most bland faced liar to shame, especially Malfoy's "Very good Draco, you have great potential." When his potion was a shade of yellow that was painfully bright.
"I expected better of you." He said as the classed filed out.
On the way out, the boisterous boy- Ron Weasley, Emily believed he was named- started complaining about how unfair Snape was. "Did you hear his comments? It was like he was trying to get us to dispute him and get a detention!" His voice was, thankfully, lowered. "That, and, did you see what the Slytherins' potions were like? They were horrible, we did better than them!"
Emily was seething at Professor Snape already, but she was able to keep her temper in check as she continued walking onto her next class. I know that that short man teaches Charms…But, how good can he be, really?
Friday, September 6th, 1991
"And, I want a three centimeter thick essay on Basilisks, due Tuesday!" Harry called after the students exiting his class. All of them groaned on cue, but it was a good-natured groan, more of a token groan than an annoyed groan. Now, I can get a nice period's rest. Harry thought to himself within the safety of his mind.
Just as he was relaxing in his chair, the door swung open. Without conscious effort, his wand was already in his hand, and a spell on his lips, before he knew what he was doing.
"Good morning, Headmaster." Harry said to the graying old man before him. "I take it you are well?"
"Yes, and you, Professor Potter?" The current Headmaster of Hogwarts replied.
"About as well as can be expected." Professor Harry Potter said. "I imagine that you're here to grill me about Lily, James, my relation to them, my last name, and/or Emily?" Harry said in a tired voice.
"Yes." Dumbledore said. "I sent Emily off to training."
"You left her at an abusive household!" Harry roared. "I will not tolerate lies, Mister Dumbledore. You can leave that behind, tell me the truth." He quickly cast a privacy charm on the door, as some students had looked inside, to see what had their Defense teacher's ire so irked
"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted." Here Dumbledore looked pointedly at Harry. "I sent Emily off to training. Not a training in war, but a training in love. I thought that by leaving her at a blood relative's house, she would be loved. But, we'll never know now." Dumbledore gave a small sigh and sat back in a desk.
"Yes, I know." Harry said softly. "You see, Dumbledore. She was at a blood relative's house."
"Sirius and Remus are not blood relatives of Emily Potter." Dumbledore said sharply.
"I know. I wasn't thinking of the dog that occasionally becomes human to spend time with his goddaughter or the man that occasionally becomes a wolf. I was speaking about me." He gave a small chuckle at Dumbledore's astounded expression. "I know, it is kind of hard to believe, isn't it?
"You see, headmaster, I am Harry James Potter, the only son of Lily and James Potter. Yes, yes, very hard to prove, especially now that they're dead. "I have walked this earth for ten years now, but I have walked another for twenty five." Come on, old man, put two and two together to get four he thought.
The light of recognition shone in Dumbledore's eyes as he looked at Harry. "You aren't from here, are you?"
"No, I'm not. Nor is my wife. We came here right after killing Lord Voldemort, well, I killed Voldemort. Yes, I know the prophecy. I must say, you aren't doing a good job of teaching Emily anything."
Harry looked around his classroom quickly. "Listen, Dumbledore. Voldemort isn't dead, he's just biding his time, waiting to come back." Dumbledore's eyes widened with recognition. "Yes, the Philosopher's stone, he'll want it. And, he'll stop at nothing to have it."
"You must protect it." Dumbledore whispered.
"I can't, I teach a class. On that note, what happened to Quirrell?"
"Quineus? I don't know. He left on a leave of absence last year, and hasn't been heard from since." Dumbledore looked pensive for a moment. "I think he was in Romania, or somewhere around there. Why?"
"Damn." Harry whispered. "I've changed the timeline too much."
"What?"
"Quirrell had, or has, Lord Voldemort stuck in the back of his head." Harry chuckled at Dumbledore's stricken expression. "Yes, Quirrell took the mark."
"What are your intentions towards Emily, Mister Potter." Dumbledore said bluntly after a pause.
"You say it like I'm dating her." Harry laughed. "Seriously?" At Dumbledore's nod he continued. "I'm going to be her father. Never mind the fact that I'm her, or, rather, she's me. I intend to give her a better life than I had, believe me, Dumbledore, she wouldn't have been the happy, healthy, outgoing kid she's now. She would've been somewhat depressed, underweight, and very introverted. I know, I was.
"Believe me, the Dursleys' was no place for her, or anybody, they give their son everything, and anything, he wants. He's very overweight; in fact, I believe I likened him to a whale once."
Dumbledore gave a small bark of laughter. "Surely, you jest!" His laughter died an abrupt end at Harry's grim expression. "You're serious?" Harry gave a grim nod. "Oh God." Oh God, was right. "I guess I overreacted. Is it okay if I tell the rest of the teachers about you and your wife?"
Harry paused for a moment before giving a nod, albeit hesitant.
"Good." With a flourish, Dumbledore left the room. Harry took down the privacy charm and sat down in his chair. He cast an alarm spell to wake him up and he fell asleep.
.oOo.
She was late, that much was obvious to Emily Lily Potter as she ran towards the Greenhouses, her bag threatening to run off her shoulder. As she neared the Greenhouse she noticed that the rest of the class was still waiting outside the Greenhouses as she skidded to a halt. She noticed that the class was made up of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, which was preferable to one of the alternatives, namely Gryffindors and Slytherins.
The rest of the class looked at the so-called "Golden Girl" with barely hidden laughter as she bent over to catch her breath. "What." She snapped as a Hufflepuff boy touched her elbow to get her attention.
The boy just pointed behind her, where her bag lay on the ground, with its books strewn about.
"Joy." She muttered.
After she managed to get her books back into her bag and into the group of classmates waiting for Professor Sprout she looked at her watch. It read an hour earlier than she thought it was. "You mean I ran for no-reason?" She cried.
There just wasn't any Galactic Justice in the world. At least, she didn't think there was.
.oOo.
Yawning, Emily turned towards her telescope. She hadn't expected to stay up this late, especially for school. The school was usually very adamant on its curfew, but for the Astronomy class, it would've been fully enforced.
"Tonight, we'll be looking at the stars." Professor Sinestra said, stating the obvious. "We will open up a branch of magic that isn't widely known in the World. Most muggles believe that the Earth is the center of the universe. We wizards know this to be wrong, mainly because of the sighting of planets and being able to chart them. Its also dependent on a large magic formula that would be impossible to describe to ones as young as you." Sinestra's voice was condescending, and yet not at the same time.
"Excuse me." Hermione said. "But in the 1600's Galileo said that the world was not the center of the solar system, much less the galaxy. Where do you get your information?" Suddenly looking ashen faced at what she had just said; she shut up, much to the amusement of the class.
"From the Muggle Studies professor, miss…?"
"Granger." Hermione managed to squeak out.
"Surely, he knows much more about the Muggle World than you." It was a statement, not a question.
Contrary to the rest of her classes, Hermione kept quiet throughout the rest of the class, not even answering questions that were posed by her classmates. She made it through the class without saying something she'd later regret, but only just.
"How dare that professor say that the Muggle World is so far behind?" Hermione was saying on the way back from Astronomy. "They don't even recognize the existence of electricity, or the fact that man has been to the moon, and yet they talk about how superior they are to the Muggle World!"
"I'm sure they just don't know." Emily said, placing a hand on her friend's arm to soothe her flared temper. "After all, they're only wizards raised in an informational vacuum."
"That reminds me…Who's that lady, Hermione Potter? She has my hair color, my eye color and my first name." Hermione's voice brokered no argument.
"As far as I know she's my mother." Emily's voice lowered and she looked around conspiratorially. "But I did some checking at Flourish and Blott's, she's not my mother. My guess is that they are adoptive parents that Dumbledore found for me. But don't tell anyone, please."
Hermione smiled and shook her friend's outstretched hand. Emily smiled in return.
.oOo.
Monday, September 9th, 1991
At daybreak, two figures could be seen out on the grounds. However, no person at Hogwarts was likely to see them. The two did various exercises to keep in shape, and at one time, spell fire was seen from their vicinity.
The exercise however, was not seen by anybody at the school or even by the acclaimed earliest riser at Hogwarts, Rebus Hagrid.
.oOo.
Flying class! Emily could hardly wait. She'd heard many things about flying on brooms, like witches in the movies, most of which had been centered around a wizard sport, in fact the only wizard sport, called Quidditich. She'd heard from the Red-haired boy -Ron- that Quidditich was supposed to be the biggest sport ever, even more so than football could ever dream to be.
She'd heard the tales. People who were on their broom and hit a muggle flying device ("It's called a plane!" She'd constantly remind the ignorant wizards, but they wouldn't care). Ron once claimed to have almost hit a hang glider, but Emily didn't believe him, as it would've led to the discovery of the wizarding world. The silver haired boy had spun a series of flying tales that all led to him narrowly avoiding a plane, hang glider or something like that.
As the class filed into the flying pitch, she noticed that the instructor was a gray haired woman who appeared to be an adult who didn't want to admit that she was getting old. But, when she started to teach, she didn't seem like it.
"First, you must call the broom to you, just place your hand over it and say the word 'up'". Madam Hooch said after introductions. Emily was one of the handful that had the broom in her hands first time around. Some, like Ron, were happy to get the broom to move a little. ("I just pick it up at home!" He later complained) Emily figured that the brooms were like horses, able to detect how nervous you were to hold them."When you are going to get on a broom, you must mount it. And PROPERLY!" She barked after the majority of the class had gripped the broom and she saw Draco Malfoy mounting his broom improperly. Emily felt a small shiver of happiness at that fact. Surprisingly enough, she managed to mount it properly the first time around; she just fell into it naturally.
The rest of the class, however, was met with differing amounts of success. Ron was mounting the broom in a fashion that suggested that he knew something about brooms, but was not dexterous enough to grip it properly. Draco was still chastised and was mounting it how he was supposed to, muttering darkly about "Daddy…Sack…Worthless", what that meant, Emily knew not.
"Once you're properly mounted." Madam Hooch continued. "You will kick up, hover sixteen inches from the ground, and touch back down." Obviously missing the fact that it would be a tantalizing taste of what would come to the students who hadn't flown before.
Neville Longbottom kicked off immediately, his feet leaving the ground seconds before Madam Hooch blew her whistle. His broom was either very restless or eager to get off the ground or he was incompetent. Emily was leaning towards the first former. She noticed him yelling "DOWN!" at the broom and almost felt like laughing.
As Neville flew around and up they noticed that Madam Hooch drew her wand and had it switching between Neville and his broom, but broke eye contact and wasn't muttering anything.
Neville's broom was flying towards the castle, where the class was held, and the students all jumped out of the way, Madam Hooch included. Neville flew towards the castle wall at the highest velocity his broom could manage(1). Hitting the wall, the broom bucked, and launched him into the wall, leaving him on the ground nursing his arm. On the ground, barely visible underneath him, was a small ball that Emily immediately identified as his Remembrall, as he had shown it to her at breakfast earlier.
Running over to him, Madam Hooch looked over him and started muttering to herself about 'idiot boys' among other things. Gathering him all up in her arms she ran towards the archway into the castle and off towards the infirmary.
"Idiot." Draco Malfoy said clearly. "He couldn't even land on his fat arse!" He walked over to where Neville had lain earlier, then stooped over to retrieve the Remembrall. "I think I'll leave this somewhere where he could find it later." He mounted his broom –his way- and flew off towards the tree. "Like in that tree!"
Emily, thoroughly exasperated, jumped on her broom and kicked off, trying to intercept Malfoy before he could throw it in the tree. She could hear Hermione muttering about expulsion and how she wasn't connected to this, she didn't care. "Give it to me Malfoy!" She called at the blonde boy, who only smirked. "There's no Crabbe or Goyle up here to save your skin!" She called, then accelerated, trying to ram him.
She missed, but Malfoy's face showed clear anger and fear. He then laughed and threw the ball towards the ground with a cry of "catch!"
She pushed the broom for all it was worth, leaning down into the broom to lower her air resistance and keeping her legs in it, not hanging down. The broom evidently had a lucky star ( and a favorable deity) as it went faster then any of the school brooms were supposed to and she was diving towards the flying ball.
Turning around right before she hit the wall, her brooms constant acceleration canceling out the inertia gathered from her mad dash to reach the ball, she shot out her hand and caught the ball.
Gliding down the students who were all cheering, save the Slytherins, Emily stuffed the ball into her pocket and vowed to give it to Neville first thing.
"Emily Potter!" She heard a voice call.
She turned around and groaned.
It was Professor McGonagall, she was so dead!
A/N: Can't say how sorry I am that I finished this before Chapter Ten of TCWM. I do have chapter ten all written out, its just the small matter of typing it up that's giving me trouble. (I've never liked copying to the screen.)
Now, unto my notes.
The maximum velocity of the school brooms is (In my book any ways) 35kph/h (35 kilometres per hour per hour, an acceleration rate for those of you who don't know). So, just thought I'd make note of that here.
A Purely Personal Question: Does anybody know if its possible to get Eric Clappton: Unplugged on DVD? We have it on CD, but it would be a neat concert to have on DVD.
Thanks!
Eldar