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Books » Harry Potter » Harry Potter and the Order of the Chronic
sastath
Author of 16 Stories
Rated: M - English - Humor - Harry P. & Fleur D. - Reviews: 227 - Updated: 09-02-10 -
Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Harry Potter and the Order of the Chronic
Dudley's Day
I don't own any of the characters, all JKR, no profit to be made.
Sequel to Harry Potter and the Blazin Goblet
It was a quiet and normal evening on Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. It was dull and
plain, nothing to raise any suspicion as Vernon and Petunia Dursley backed out of their drive
way. However, if the elder Dursley's had been paying attention they would have noticed the
small bend in blinds of their own house, as if making sure of their departure.
Dudley Dursley let out a long-winded breath of air as his parents disappeared from view. He
turned, letting the blinds snap shut, to face Harry who was lying on the couch flicking his
cheek to make an annoying popping sound.
"They're gone." Dudley said with a grin as he wiped away some sweat from his brow.
"You're way to tense Dudders, Dud, Big D, whatever the hell you call yourself these days."
Harry said rising from the couch and giving a stretch.
"Hey they wanted me to go to that boring award ceremony." Dudley said waving his arms in
the direction of the window.
"What the hell were they being awarded any way?" Harry muttered.
"I think it was best kept lawn or something…" Dudley replied as his response turned into blur
of soft muttering.
Harry gave a shrug seemingly not caring, but then froze. "Wait a minute… I take care of the
lawn! What the fuck? Taking credit for my work."
Harry sighed as he gazed at Dudley who gave a shrug in response. Harry thought on it a
moment, but realized that he only cut the grass. The rest of the lawn was being taken care of
in the dead of night by Dobby, the rather insane house elf that worshipped the ground Harry
walked on. After thoroughly deciding to steal the award to give to the elf Harry spoke.
"Fuck it. So how did you convince your parents to let you stay here then? You know they don't
like letting their little Dudders hang out with the creepy and unnatural Harry."
"Well I told them you had been experimenting with fire recently and didn't know if it would be
safe to leave you on your own." Dudley replied with grin.
Harry glared at Dudley for a few moments pondering the words before finally shrugging. "I
should probably be mad, but… fuck it."
"Sooo…" Dudley let said elongating the phrase, while trying to sound casual. "You invite Karen
over to smoke with us?"
"Of course." Harry replied giving a nod of his head.
"So do you think I can have a shot at her?" Dudley said still trying to sound casual.
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Dudley I never said you couldn't try and get together with Karen."
"That isn't fair Potter! You have a girlfriend and Karen follows you around like a lap dog. I
don't see why you just can't tell her you aren't interested so I have a shot." Dudley said his
eyes slowly narrowing into slits of anger.
Harry sighed. "Dudley, Dud, we've been over this. I got to have a few girls on the backburner.
Suppose something happened with my baby, then what? I'd have no girls fawning after me.
And that… that would be far to tragic."
"Please, you said you were famous in that freak world. So girls probably throw themselves at
you anyway." Dudley said scoffing at Harry.
Harry didn't reply for a bit, apparently lost in thought.
"Ok what you say might have some truth Dud, but… I'm still not going to help you." Harry
finished with a rather evil grin.
"Fucking arse." Dudley replied with a shake of his head, just as a soft knock was heard at the
door.
Harry slowly made his way to the door, stopping only to take a look out one of the windows
nearby to ensure whom it was. Harry gave a snort as Dudley quickly attempted to make
himself look more presentable.
A quick flip of the lock and Harry had the door open.
"Welcome Karen to my humble abode." Harry said dipping down to a knee in an over
exaggerated bow.
"Stop clowning Harry." Karen giggled as she gave Harry a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.
"Hey Dudley." Karen said in a friendly tone as Harry shut the door.
"Karen." Dudley in an over the top mystique manner as he leaned up against a sofa with his
arms crossed. When Harry turned to the scene he had to fake a cough to stifle his laughter at
Dudley's ploy. Harry couldn't help, but feel that his Aunt's flower patterned couch didn't help
Dudley's chances.
Once Harry regained his composure he gestured to the stairs.
"Shall we?"
Harry's room was a haze, filled with smoke from the gooey green ganja that the three youths
were smoking. A slight breeze from the window occasionally made the haze dance about the
room majestically.
Music was playing softly in the background as Harry was telling a tale of tragic woe.
"And that my friends. Is why legalizing weed would single handedly bring us out of recession…
not to mention it would be fucking epic."
Dudley gave a snort, while Karen giggled moving closer to Harry's side as she passed the joint
they were smoking to Dudley.
"You are so smart Harry" Karen cooed running her hand over Harry's shoulder.
"I know I am babe." Harry replied with a grin before taking the joint from Dudley to take a
long deep hit, unaware that Dudley's bloodshot eyes were squinting in disgust at Karen's
closeness to Harry.
"You know I'm Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast!" Dudley
exclaimed suddenly in a last ditch effort to get more attention.
The room seemed to grow quiet for a few moments as Harry and Karen just stared at Dudley.
"Ok, thanks for sharing that Dudley… as if your dad hasn't been telling me that all summer."
Harry finally said in a rather sarcastic, yet mocking tone.
"Boxing Champion?" Karen said her eyebrows raised as a smirk came across her face. "Is that
why you beat up Mark Evans? Honing your skills, were you?"
"What? No, I mean yes, I mean… um…" Dudley began to sputter.

"Dude, you beat up Mark Evans? He is like ten." Harry said with a shake of his head.
"You weren't there! He cheeked me!" Dudley shouted. Karen started to giggle as Harry went
on the attack.
"He cheeked you… so you beat the tar of him? Christ Duds the kid was ten. I'm sure you could
probably have looked at him funny and he would have ran." Harry said mocking Dudley and
dragging him through the coals.
Dudley glared in response.
"Yeah, that look right there would do." Harry commented as Karen broke out in fits.
Harry continued to take jabs at Dudley, while Karen rolled about laughing until a soft thud
caught her attention.
"Did you hear that?" She whispered. "Are your parents home?"
Dudley and Harry both looked at her with confused expression.
"I didn't hear anything, but if there was a noise it was probably just Hedwig flying into the
window. Told her to leave before we started to smoke. Don't worry she hits the window all the
time, she'll be fine." Harry offered up as an explanation to the noise he hadn't even heard.
"No! I'm sure it was from inside." Karen retorted and a few seconds later the sound of glass
breaking could be heard coming from downstairs.
All three froze for a moment and then as quick as a flash Harry turned the soft playing music
off and hit the lights.
"No way can that be your parents Dud. Way to early." Harry whispered.
"Then who?" Karen asked her voice filled with an edge of panic.
"Police?" Dudley whispered his eyes filled with dread.
"Don't be stupid the bobbies wouldn't be breaking in. I'm thinking burglars." Harry whispered.
The reaction was immediate Karen began whispering erratically "what are we going to do?"
and Dudley's eye grew wide and darted from the door to Harry as if trying to come up with a
plan. Harry remained calm and collective.
"Calm down babe, I've got a plan." Harry said in a soothing manner. Karen stopped her
jittering and stared at Harry waiting and Dudley did the same.
"Dudley…" Harry said quietly.
"Go down there and take care of them."
The room was quiet and the only sound that could be heard were muffled voices from the
intruders below.
"Me? Why me?" Dudley replied finally breaking the silence.

Harry rolled his eyes "You're the Inter-School Boxing Champion."
Karen looked on in disbelief thinking Dudley couldn't be that stupid, but as Dudley's eyes
darted to her he seemed to puff up his chest, nod, and slowly make his way to the door.
Before Karen knew it Harry was by her side.
"Ok babe, while Dudley gets the piss taken out of him, we escape through the window." Harry
whispered jabbing his thumb in the direction of the window.
Karen looked at Harry with a shocked expression, but before she could respond Dudley had
opened the door to Harry's room and let out a shriek causing both her and Harry to look on.
A dark figure cloaked in black loomed in the doorway menacingly as Dudley had let out a
shriek. Harry and Karen looked on and saw Dudley lean back and with all his might take a
furious swing at the figure.
The figure let out a groan and tumbled from view letting out moans as Harry heard him
tumble down the steps to the landing in between the top floor and ground floor.
Karen and Harry both looked on in awe as Dudley turned just as shocked holding his fist up
ecstatically. Harry left Karen's side and made his way to the door out into the hallway, while
Dudley followed.
Harry peeked down at the figure and his face contorted with shock and confusion. Dudley
stood at his side swelling with pride.
"Holy shit Dudley you killed Crouch, but… Crouch is dead…" Harry muttered completely
perplexed.
Dudley didn't get a chance to answer as a new figure arrived up on the landing. She was
rather attractive, Harry noted. Heart-shaped face, twinkling eyes, body that wouldn't quit, the
only flaw Harry could see was her rather short ugly dyed hair.
The woman silently looked down at the crumpled figure then up to Harry and Dudley. She did
this a few times before holding out her arms out in exclamation.
"What'd you do?"
"Filthy burglars." Dudley replied menacingly.
"What the hell is Crouch doing here?" Harry asked the woman.
A familiar voice from below answer as it approached the landing.
"That isn't Crouch Harry, that is actually the real Alastor Moody."
Harry paused for a moment.
"Remus?"
End Chapter
Welcome back fellow readers. First off the title, as of now is this, but I have been
thinking of changing it to HP and order of the Chronic. If you wish drop a pm or
review with your preference.
Second topic. I noticed a lot of people complaining about the I-pod and dates. This
story is meant to be an over the top laugh. It is not meant in anyway to be serious.
Hence, timelines and dates are not going to be bothered with.
And last since I know the grammar from the last one was pretty bad I'm thinking
about taking on a beta. The beta would pretty much just be grammar and maybe
introducing us to some Euro style slang (that is what I'm looking for at least). The
only problem is updating will be much slower (at least from my experience). So I ask
once again if you have a preference leave it in a pm or review.
So much for the intro to the next story.
Review this Chapter
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sastath
Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Only the Best Protect Harry

"Who the hell are all these people?"
"Well, Harry. They are your guard." Remus pointed out as he and Tonks struggled with a
staggering Moody whose nose was bleeding profusely.
"Guard? What the hell do I need a guard for? Hell, why the hell are you even here?" Harry
asked despite the onlookers, whom supposedly made up his guard.
"Dumbledore said you might be less than cooperative, but he figured with recent events your
views might have changed." Remus said as he studied Harry's body posture.
Harry didn't respond as he stared at Remus with nothing, but confusion and annoyance.
"Harry, we did send owls you know, but you never responded. So we just assumed you were
going along with the plan." The violet hair witch said breaking the silence.
"What ow…ls…" Harry began to ask as his mind wandered to the various post messages that
remained unopened in his room. Only those sent by Fleur and Rita had been opened, all others
tossed to the side.
"Ok, never mind then, but still doesn't explain why Dumbledore sent you guys?" Harry replied
sharply. The only reason Harry could figure was Dumbledore wanted to silence him. His recent
interviews with Skeeter had surely been published. Harry had gone on a rant about
Dumbledore's views on the subject of Voldemort as well as go into more details of his life and
enjoyments. Of course leaving those of questionable legality out.
"Have you been keeping up with the news Harry?" The violet hair witch asked.
"Been making plenty of news that's for sure." A rather large black bald headed wizard said
rather harshly.
"Kingsley." Remus retorted giving the black bald wizard a stern look. Harry found it curious
that the man would back down from Remus, being Kingsley was twice as big. Harry was sure if
it had been him coming up the stairs Dudley would have been dead after throwing that punch.
"Well… no. I mean who has time for the news in the wizard world? I mean come on no
television, not even a web page! It's like fucking stoned age." Harry said and chortled at his
pun.
The violet haired witch gave Remus a grim look. Remus replied with a grim look of his own as
sweat began to form on his brow.
"Well, Harry we assumed you had heard, but… I mean we didn't know that you didn't know
what happened." Remus said rather nervously.
"Well what the hell happened. I suppose these are those recent events that you mentioned
earlier? So spit it out." Harry exclaimed with open arms.
"I don't think now is the time and place Harry. We shall explain once we get you safely to the
Order." Remus replied with a sigh.
"Who the hell said I was going anywhere? I got things to do. Big date coming up in a week or
so, I can't be distracted by this rubbish about Tommy Boy." Harry said with a lazy flick of his
wrist.
"You are coming with us Potter." Kingsley spat in a bold and deep manner.
"Says who?" Harry replied in a rare show of bravery knowing the man before him could pound
the piss out of him.
"Enough!" Remus shouted before Kingsley could reply and make the atmosphere in the room
anymore tense.
"Not to worry Harry, we will be going to London." Remus said with a sly grin finally coming to
his face.
Harry perked his head up immediately. London was where he had been planning on going
anyway. He had to pick up a cell phone for Fleur; owl post was just not cutting it. Then he had
planned to visit Fleur on and help her move into her apartment so she could start her new job.
"London you say?" Harry said trying to play it coy.
"Don't bother, Sirius already told me what you were up to." Remus said breaking up in plots
Harry might have been building up in his mind.
Harry scowled. "You've been talking with that mangy mutt, haven't you?"
"Indeed I have." Remus laughed.
Harry stretched out his arms giving a slight groan "Well then I'll just go get my things and we
can be off."
"I can help you. Be much quicker if we use magic." The violet haired witch offered.
Harry paused and gave the shorthaired witch a look. "Who the hell are you anyway?"
"Tonks." She replied.
"Tonks? Just Tonks?" Harry asked his eyebrow raised.
"Don't like my first name." She answered with a scowl.
"Well Tonks, I can't have you going up in my room because there is a muggle other than my
cousin up there. And number two… I say this with all due respect, but that hair has to go. I
mean short and spiky? Are you a dyke or something?" Harry said with a shake of his head as
he vanished upstairs to pack.
The group of witches and wizards remained quiet other than Moody's occasional groan, while
Harry went up stairs to pack.
"Do I really look like a dyke?" Tonks finally said looking about rather defensively.
All the other witches and wizards quickly seemed to take an interest in all the Dursley's
amazing muggle gadgets, all, but one.
"Yeah you do." Kingsley muttered.
"What the hell happened here?" Harry said dragging his trunk into the kitchen.
Kingsley was laying on the ground a bloodied nose, while Remus had Tonks pinned into a
corner whispering into her ear, apparently trying to calm her. No one seemed to be paying any
attention to Harry at all.
"I didn't know she could throw a waffle iron that far." One of the wizards mumbled.
"What is a waffle iron?" Another wizard asked.
"That is." A witch replied pointing at bloodied waffle iron at Kingsley's feet.
Harry sighed and sat down at the kitchen table letting his trunk fall to his side. First Dudley
and Karen making out as he went up to pack apparently pleased by Dudley's brave act.
Damned that Hermione always being right!
Not only that, but he had a group of rather inept wizards about to escort him to London. Harry
doubted whether they could even find the place. Harry didn't think this day could possibly get
any worse.
"I'll… I'll kill that stupid boy!" Moody shouted rising from the floor apparently coming around
enough to comprehend what had happened to him earlier.
Moody staggered forward his wand outstretched as he stumbling toward the exit in his
attempt to extract revenge against Dudley for the face bashing he had received.
"Moody stop!" Remus said as he made his way over to Moody wrestling him to the ground.
Whatever he had been whispering to Tonks hadn't calmed her down any because as soon as
Remus vanished she pounced on Kingsley like a jungle cat would pounce on its prey.
Harry sighed resting his head in his hands. "They better hope I'm right on Voldemort or we are
all dead."
Harry wasn't given anytime to mentally think on the matter as the kitchen light flickered on
and a loud shriek erupted from the door. Harry along with the tangle of fighting witches and
wizards looked up to see Aunt Petunia her hand just before her mouth in shock. Harry's uncle
Vernon was soon by her side, his face growing red with shock and anger.
"What are all these freaks doing here?" Vernon shouted clearly angry.
Harry could really only think of one thing to say to diffuse the situation.
"Scatter!"
Witches and wizards were dashing here and there making for the exits as Vernon chased them
about waving his pudgy fists menacingly, while Petunia had some how come up with a mop
which she brandished as if it were a spear.
"I was wondering what happened. I mean I sent up the all ready sparks nearly thirty minutes
before you guys came out." A wizard spoke as he flew alongside Remus, while Harry trailed
behind them next to a disgruntled Tonks. Apparently the rest of the guard had gotten lost in
the chaos of the abrupt exit.
"Well, like I said. Things just didn't go according to plan." Remus said defensively. Harry was
sure he saw Remus throw a glance back at himself and Tonks as he spoke.
"Not going to tell me what happened are you?" The wizard said with a disappointed look.
"Just get back into formation." Remus replied with a heavy sigh.
They flew in a triangle type formation with Harry in the middle. It wasn't till they saw the
lights of London ahead that Harry flew up to Remus's side. He held out a yellowed sheet of
paper with one hand.
Remus looked at it warily, but snatched the paper and attempted to read it as they flew.
"I don't understand? A menu?" Remus muttered loudly amidst the wind.
"Chinese menu." Harry corrected Remus with a grin.
As they began to descend on one of the many streets of London Remus just shook his head
trying to understand.
Harry laughed as they touched down.
"Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain."
End Chapter
Curious to see if anyone got that, you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway title is officially Harry Potter and Order of the Chronic. And unless my
readers seriously get sick of the grammar and what not, there will be no beta to
ensure quicker updates.
Review this Chapter
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sastath
Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Order of the Phoenix
"Where the hell are we anyway?" Harry muttered looking about the dilapidated street in
London.
Broken windows seemed to be the norm of the buildings around them. Streetlamps were
broken, graffiti tagged various buildings and trash piles here and there didn't seem
uncommon.
"Headquarters of course." Tonks replied in a rather chipper tone apparently losing her
animosity for Harry.
"Headquarters? Headquarters for what… anti-gang unit or something? Look at this place, a
filthy fucking dump. I'm surprised we haven't been shot or mugged yet." Harry said waving his
arms at the run down street.
"Sure do whine a lot don't you boy." A familiar voice snarled from behind, causing Harry to
jump a bit as he turned to see Moody and a couple of other wizards touching down to the
pavement.
"Just stating it like it is." Harry muttered regaining his composure. "How's the nose Moody?"
Moody glared at Harry for a moment before reaching into his pocket and grumpily handed
Harry a worn piece of parchment.
"Um thanks? Black spot or something?" Harry said holding the crumpled piece of parchment in
his hand.
"No Harry, read it." Remus replied as Moody stalked off toward the door.
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld
Place, London.
"What the hell is the Order of the…" Harry began to ask, but was quickly cut off.
"Not here boy! Wait till we're inside." Moody snarled.

Harry was about to ask inside where, but a building seemed to pop out of nowhere between
buildings eleven and thirteen. Harry stared at the building in its less than welcoming
appearance.
"Ok, Order of the…"
"I said not here boy or are your ears filled with to much wax?" Moody growled in a much
harsher tone as he snatched the piece of parchment from Harry's hand, burning it.
Harry gave Remus a questioning look. Remus chuckled a bit.
"He is worried that spies might be listening in."
Harry rolled his eyes as a grin slowly came to his face.
"You know no one is listening in. Look at this area no one cares." Harry called out at Moody
who was clunking his way towards the door ignoring Harry.
"Fine, Order of the Phoenix here! You hear me right here! Order of the fucking Phoenix!" Harry
shouted pointing his finger in the direction of Grimmauld Place. He would have shouted more,
but Moody appeared to be quite agile even with a peg leg and was upon him in a moment.
"I said shut it boy!" Moody growled harshly grabbing Harry by the front of his shirt.
Harry and Moody glared at each other for a few moments before Moody finally let go of his
shirt stumping away fuming.
"Told you no one cared." Harry muttered to his back.
"Shut the fuck up out there!" A voice sounded from one of the buildings followed by a few
other voices uttering similar threats.
Harry paused giving each of those with him a grin before shrugging.
"Well at least they care if we are annoying enough."
Just as Harry expected the inside of the house was just as run down as the streets outside.
"Who the fuck lives here? This place is dump." Harry muttered with a sigh.
"Quiet now Harry we don't want to…" Remus began to whisper, but Harry seemed to have
enough of being told to be quiet.
"I swear if one more person tells me to be quiet and not tell me what the hell is going…" Harry
began to shout, but quieted as a loud shrieking erupted from down the hall a ways. "What the
fuck is that?"
"He told you to be quiet." Tonks muttered with a sly grin.
Harry shot her a disgruntled look before wandering down the hall ignoring everyone else. He
came upon a portrait of an older woman screaming and shouting obscenities.
"Vile Scum! Filthy freaks, mutants, begone from this place!" The voice shriek as Harry
approached a curtained portion of the hall that could have passed for a door, but instead he
came upon a portrait of a woman, and in his opinion not a very attractive woman.
"Bah, leave filthy brat besmirching my home!"
"Calm down you psycho nutty bitch."
"Ah… you dare? You worthless scum of the earth!"
"Scum of the earth… I like the sound of that." Harry muttered pondering the thought.
"Still doesn't change the fact that you madam are a dirty whore."
"Worthless brat! Son of a mudblood whore! Not worth the..."
Before the crazy woman in the portrait could finish a figure dressed in black moved in front of
Harry pulling the drapes around the portrait closed, silencing the woman.
Sirius Black closed the drapes and turned expecting the worst from his Godson, but as he
turned Harry was grinning back at him.
"What's so funny?"
"I like her, got a mouth like sailor." Harry replied before giving Sirius a hug and slap on the
back.
"Missed you to." Sirius muttered ruffling Harry's hair as he pulled away.
Harry pulled away still grinning "How you doing you old pirate? So good to see you, what are
you doing here?"
Sure enough the portrait began its ranting again and Sirius silenced it once again before Harry
could begin another shouting match with it.
"Well Harry. I'm here because this is my house."
Harry gave Sirius a quizzical look. "You live here? Ever thought of hiring a decorator? Maybe
just moving the area isn't that good you know and with the market the way it is you could get
a good deal."
"Oh come now Harry, if I were to move how would I visit my mother's portrait." Sirius replied
sarcastically as he lead him away from the hall, attempting to avoid another of his mother's
outburst.
"That nutter bitch is you mom?"
"Indeed." Sirius answered gravely. "Been trying to get her down for ages, but apparently she
put a permanent sticking charm on her portrait probably just to spite me even now that she's
dead."
"Mother issues?" Harry asked innocently with a hint of mockery.

"Shut it." Sirius said giving Harry a playful slap on the back of his head.
"So if you really don't like your mother's portrait that much why don't you just cut the wall out
around the portrait?" Harry asked.
Sirius didn't reply as they slowly walked along before shrugging.
"You could probably cut the picture out or maybe even just burn it. I find that very effective
when dealing with these magical portraits." Harry said remembering the moronic knight
Cadogan.
Sirius replied with another shrug.
"You didn't think of it did you?" Harry muttered with smirk.
"Hey, I've been busy… You know using this dump as a hideout and cleaning. Lots of that going
on." Sirius answered sternly.
"And you were probably blitzed out of your skull." Harry added on.
"Yeah that to." Sirius said with no denial.
"Knew it. Stoned mutt." Harry said as he and Sirius shared a laugh at an empty part of a
hallway in the upper regions of the Grimmauld Place. After finishing their laugh Sirius casually
strolled past Harry opening a window and lighting up a smoke. Harry joined him leaning
against the opposite wall.
"So how come you haven't been replying to your letters. You've had everyone worried." Sirius
asked puffing on his cigarette.
"Out of date. Haven't these people heard of the phone or internet? I haven't got time to read."
Harry muttered as if the owl post was a terrible inconvenience.
"Haven't been calling me I've noticed. I think your brain has been addled with all that comedy
you've been playing with that girl of yours." Sirius said with a slick smile on his face.
"Shut it!" Harry said jabbing at his Godfather. The two began a playful match of jabbing at one
another when the sound of footsteps began to approach. Sirius froze and as quick as flash
flicked his cigarette out the open in window and with one look, Harry did the same. A moment
later a pudgy Mrs. Weasley rounded the far corner of the hall.
"Sirius Black!" Mrs. Weasley shouted giving a sniff of the air.
"I know you've been smoking I can smell it as clear as day! No better than that Mundgus
Fletcher and worse with Harry right here!" Mrs. Weasley shouted her hand poking at Sirius's
chest as she approached.
Sirius backed away blubbering out excuses as the enraged Mrs. Weasley jabbed at him.
"It wasn't him Mrs. Weasley. It was me. I swear it." Harry said from behind her.
Mrs. Weasley turned giving his a soft motherly look. "Oh Harry dear, no need to cover for him.
He knows better. Such behavior is uncalled for." Mrs. Weasley finished by giving Harry a
furiously big hug, which Harry returned while he shot Sirius a few mocking faces.
"And you!" Mrs. Weasley said harshly rounded on Sirius.
"You need to get to the meeting! They are waiting for you down there." Mrs. Weasley said to
Sirius, whose face was going red. Not because of Mrs. Weasley, but because Harry was
mocking him grinding his hips in an unceremonious way and raising his arm whirling it around
in a whipping motion.
"Harry dear, I know this must be hard for you? I mean he was a friend of yours after all. Not
to worry Dumbledore will get it all sorted out." Mrs. Weasley said rounding on Harry again.
Harry gave Mrs. Weasley a curious look. "Mrs. Weasley I'm not sure what you're talking
about."
"You haven't heard Harry?" Sirius asked from behind Mrs. Weasley.
Harry shook his head in response.
"Oh dear." Mrs. Weasley said her face faltering into worry.
"What is going on?" Harry said his curiosity and frustration growing.
"Meetings starting!" Someone shouted from below.
"Oh dear, not to worry Ron and Hermione are here and can explain. I thought you would have
known." Mrs. Weasley said softly running her hand affectionately through Harry's hair as she
began to leave dragging Sirius along.
"Wait what? What happened?" Harry called out in complete confusion.
"Down the hall third door on the right dear." Mrs. Weasley called back and then they were
gone.
Harry shrugged in complete confusion.
"I don't understand why we aren't allowed in is all?"
"Same reason every time Ron. You're to young." Ginny said trying to inmate her mother's
voice.
"Well they must have their reasons for not letting us in." Hermione chimed in bent over a
piece of parchment writing furiously on a piece of parchment. Something that didn't go
unnoticed.
"Who are you writing to? Vickie again." Ron snorted with disgust.
"If you must know I'm writing to Harry, not Viktor." Hermione shot back.
"Oh… what for? He hasn't responded to any of our letters." Ron murmured.
"Well you dolt. Maybe because that is what this meeting is all about." Ginny shot back at Ron.
Ron began grumbling something, but soon quieted as footsteps echoed in the hall coming their
way, but stopped… a room away. The group listened quietly and heard a quick grunt and then
a crack as the door to the room next to them cracked up.
"Have no fear… fuck."
The group listened as the footsteps sounded again to the front of their door. Then with a loud
crack the door swung open and in marched Harry.
"Have no fear! Harry Potter is here!" Harry exclaimed loudly his fist raised high into the air as
if in triumph.
Harry's grin slowly faded as he lowered his fist staring at his trio of friends who stared back
mouth's agape.
"What?" Harry muttered before he could say anything else Hermione was on him like a hyena
attacking a wounded gazelle. Her fists pounding on him as he valiantly attempted to fend her
off.
"Hermione what the fuck. Get off me! Get off me!"
"You dumb idiot! You and that stupid Skeeter woman!" Hermione shouted as Ron pried her
away, fists still flailing.
"What did we do?" Harry asked, but in response Ginny was now slapping at him.
"What the fuck? Get off me! Crazy bitches must be PMS or something." Harry shouted, as he
eventually was able to grab Ginny by the wrist and then wrap his arms around her holding her
tightly despite her struggles.
"Oh please no response to any of our letters even after what happened! You had us all worried
sick and you are playing dumb?" Hermione shouted.
"Listen, the letters ok maybe I was ass, but seriously what the fuck happened. I keep hearing
about this big event, but what was it?" Harry asked.
Ginny stopped struggling and gave Harry a look of disbelief. "Haven't you been reading the
Dailey Prophet?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "No."
Hermione stopped her struggling against Ron and all three shared a look.
"Am I missing something?" Harry asked again.
"Harry…" Hermione said in a much different tone, her voice suddenly filled with concern. "It's
something…"
"What Hermione? Spit it out already." Harry said waiting for this big ordeal he probably
wouldn't care about to be over with.
"Something happened…"
"Ok and?" Harry muttered.
Hermione looked uncomfortably to the rest of her friends and seemed to struggle to find
words, but luckily Ginny came to her aide.
"Harry something happened to Cedric. Cedric Diggory." Ginny said in a rather blunt, but
compassionate manner.
Harry stood frozen a few moments before realizing his jaw was hanging open.
"What happened to Chaz?"
End Chapter
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Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Order of the Chronic

"Well just don't stand gawking! What the hell happened to Chaz?" Harry shouted at Ron,
Hermione, and Ginny.
"I'm sorry about before Harry, we thought you knew." Hermione said breathlessly.
"That doesn't answer the question!" Harry spat back.
"Didn't you read any of our letters?" Ron asked.
"No. I didn't I didn't get them or whatever. It doesn't matter. Someone start making with
answers." Harry said trying to avoid another conversation about why he hadn't read his owl
mail.
"Well Professor Dumbledore thinks it was a possession attempt gone bad." Ginny suddenly
spoke.
"A what?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Dumbledore thinks someone tried to possess Cedric, but didn't do a
good job of it and well…" Ginny let her voice trail off.
"Is he dead?"
"No he is at St. Mungo's. That is all we know. The Prophet has been otherwise hush, hush
about the situation." Ginny said.
"What do you mean?" Harry said skeptically.
"Harry if you had paid attention to the news you would realize the Prophet is keeping a lot of
things quiet. They didn't want to many details released on the story because Dumbledore
thinks You-Know-Who is behind it. Cedric was a good friend of yours and who better to
possess to gain access to you." Hermione burst out from the side.
"And those stories you gave to Rita Skeeter sure haven't been helping mate. All that rubbish
about You-Know-Who not being back and Dumbledore attempting to take over the Ministry
and what not." Ron voiced out just after Hermione.
Harry stood frozen slowly shaking his head. "Your all off your rockers. Believing that Old
Codger! And Chaz… it can't be! Rotten kids… you work your life out. Work your whole heart
out…" Harry said collapsing to the ground running his hands through his messy hair.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat there staring at Harry's unmoving form for several minutes.
Harry just laid there, face down hands clenched in his hair.
"You think he is ok?" Ron grunted.
Hermione shot Ron a worried look in response.
Ginny rolled her eyes and went over and grabbed Harry by the shoulders dragging him
upright. "It isn't like Cedric's dead or anything Harry. George and Fred have been doing their
best to listen in on the Order's meetings and from what they heard, Cedric seems to be stable,
just non-responsive."
Harry craned his neck and shot Ginny a glare. "Great so he is a vegetable… you know if I could
be a vegetable I'd be a carrot."
"Err… right Harry." Ginny replied in confusion.
"Still this is a very big deal. You just don't understand. Chaz was just so loyal." Harry said
snapping his fingers. "Snap of a finger and he was there. Not to mention I got us Halloween
costumes already. I was going to be Maverick and he was going to Goose. Now what am I
supposed to do? Make Ron Goose?" Harry said with a shake of

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Order of the Chronic
"Well just don't stand gawking! What the hell happened to Chaz?" Harry shouted at Ron,
Hermione, and Ginny.
"I'm sorry about before Harry, we thought you knew." Hermione said breathlessly.
"That doesn't answer the question!" Harry spat back.
"Didn't you read any of our letters?" Ron asked.

"No. I didn't I didn't get them or whatever. It doesn't matter. Someone start making with
answers." Harry said trying to avoid another conversation about why he hadn't read his owl
mail.
"Well Professor Dumbledore thinks it was a possession attempt gone bad." Ginny suddenly
spoke.
"A what?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Dumbledore thinks someone tried to possess Cedric, but didn't do a
good job of it and well…" Ginny let her voice trail off.
"Is he dead?"
"No he is at St. Mungo's. That is all we know. The Prophet has been otherwise hush, hush
about the situation." Ginny said.
"What do you mean?" Harry said skeptically.
"Harry if you had paid attention to the news you would realize the Prophet is keeping a lot of
things quiet. They didn't want to many details released on the story because Dumbledore
thinks You-Know-Who is behind it. Cedric was a good friend of yours and who better to
possess to gain access to you." Hermione burst out from the side.
"And those stories you gave to Rita Skeeter sure haven't been helping mate. All that rubbish
about You-Know-Who not being back and Dumbledore attempting to take over the Ministry
and what not." Ron voiced out just after Hermione.
Harry stood frozen slowly shaking his head. "Your all off your rockers. Believing that Old
Codger! And Chaz… it can't be! Rotten kids… you work your life out. Work your whole heart
out…" Harry said collapsing to the ground running his hands through his messy hair.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat there staring at Harry's unmoving form for several minutes.
Harry just laid there, face down hands clenched in his hair.
"You think he is ok?" Ron grunted.
Hermione shot Ron a worried look in response.
Ginny rolled her eyes and went over and grabbed Harry by the shoulders dragging him
upright. "It isn't like Cedric's dead or anything Harry. George and Fred have been doing their
best to listen in on the Order's meetings and from what they heard, Cedric seems to be stable,
just non-responsive."
Harry craned his neck and shot Ginny a glare. "Great so he is a vegetable… you know if I could
be a vegetable I'd be a carrot."
"Err… right Harry." Ginny replied in confusion.
"Still this is a very big deal. You just don't understand. Chaz was just so loyal." Harry said
snapping his fingers. "Snap of a finger and he was there. Not to mention I got us Halloween
costumes already. I was going to be Maverick and he was going to Goose. Now what am I
supposed to do? Make Ron Goose?" Harry said with a shake of his head.
"Well I don't know what you are talking about Harry, but if all you're worried about is a
costume…" Ginny didn't get to finish before Harry rambled on.
"Then there is the issue of muscle. Without Chaz around I'm going to have to find someone
just as loyal who can handle my more physical and unpleasant affairs. Remember that whole
incident with Wood! If that happened now I'd get my arse handed to me and that is
unacceptable!" Harry said harshly.
"I'm sorry Harry, but aren't you being a bit conceited?" Hermione asked her tone somewhat
defiant.
"How dare you Hermione! I plan on going to see Chaz in the hospital and make sure he gets
the finest treatment money can buy, but as you can see my issues are more pressing at the
moment." Harry said with a sure nod of his head.
Hermione stared at Harry, her mouth agape in disbelief. "You are such an arse! I can't believe
you would say that? What is the matter with you Harry? Are you really…" Hermione quieted as
Harry raised a waggling finger for quiet as a thought occurred to him.
"Sorry to interrupt your whining Hermione, but a thought has just come to me. If Chaz is
incapacitated that means Chang is available." Harry muttered more to himself than the others.
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked her fists clenched, and her face growing red.
"Yeah?" Harry responded in a nonchalant manner.
Hermione didn't respond she just stood there glaring at him before finally tossing her hair and
making her way to the window while her body seemed to shiver in rage. After a few moments
Ginny joined her as they began to whisper mutinously together.
Harry shrugged as his eyes rested on a confused looking Ron.
"I don't get it mate? Aren't you with Fleur still?" Ron asked.
Harry chuckled. "Ron I believe the French have a term I'd like to use. Menage a trios."
"What's a minage er a twa?" Ron muttered confused.
"Well Ron let me explain." Harry said taking a seat next to Ron and putting an arm around his
shoulder. "When a man loves a woman… in this case multiple women he wants to…"
"Hey meetings over." A familiar voice came from the door interrupting Harry.
"And our dear mother said it is time to eat." Another familiar voice sounded.
"Ah, Fred, George long time." Harry said as he got up and greeted the Twins.
"I'm actually George, he's Fred." One of the Twins said with a nod of his head to the other.
Harry familiar with this trick shrugged. "I don't give a fuck. Let's eat I'm so hungry I could eat
a horse."
"What's up with them sausages Sirius?"

"Were not eating sausages Harry. I told you that already." Sirius answered back with a sigh as
Harry continued to eat Mrs. Weasley's cooking.
"Tonks, I see you look much better than before. Lost the dyke look." Harry said turning his
attention to the young more normal looking auror, however he cringed back as Tonks turned
to face him with a rather squashed up nose.
"What the hell did you do to yourself?"
"Nothing Harry." Tonks replied as nose morphed back into its original position. "I'm a
metamorphmagus."
Harry stared blankly at her for a moment then shrugged in confusion.
"It means I can change my appearance. It is a really rare gift. It is one of the reas…"
"Listen calm down there missy. I didn't ask for your life story." Harry said interrupting her.
Tonks proceeded to give Harry a rather ugly scowl before turning back to Ginny and Hermione
apparently giving them a laugh by changing her facial appearance.
"Psshh… want to impress me I know something you can change." Harry grumbled to himself.
"What's up with them sausages Sirius?" Harry called out again.
"I told you. No damn sausages!" Sirius answered back. "Worse than your father."
Harry shook his head in confusion. "It was five minutes till they were ready, ten minutes ago."
Sirius pushed his plate away and rested his head into his arms as he leaned onto the table.
Harry chuckled in glorious victory.
"So Mrs. Weasley excellent cooking once again, but I couldn't help notice you had virtually no
help in the kitchen?" Harry muttered giving Mrs. Weasley a sweet boyish look.
"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it Harry dear. As for the cooking I don't need any help, I have it all
under control." Mrs. Weasley answered giving Tonks a nervous look.
"Let me guess, they got you cleaning this place all by yourself as well?" Harry asked with a
sure nod.
"That isn't true. We have been helping." Ron interjected.
Harry gave Ron a curious look "As I was saying all by yourself…"
"No Ron was telling the truth all the boys as well as Hermione and Ginny have been helping
make this house more hospitable for the Order." Mrs. Weasley said in a reassuring voice.
"Mrs. Weasley I know the cleaning capability of these people… and it is pitiful at best. And
since a certain non-making sausage fellow refuses to hire a decorator I can offer my services
in this matter." Harry replied.
"Well that would be wonderful Harry. Another helping hand is always useful. Tomorrow we
plan on tackling the doxies living in the window curtains." Mrs. Weasley said with a motherly
glow to her face.
Sirius groaned into the table pitifully.
"Excellent Mrs. Weasley." Harry said before clearing his throat.
"Dobby!"
A moment later a loud crack sounded and there stood the infamous house elf dressed in a
small slicked out suit, but still kneeled into a low bow before Harry.
"Yous'd called Harry Potter sir?" Dobby asked.
"Yes I did… nice suit Dobby." Harry said giving the elf a slap of the hand.
"This house is in disarray. I need it spotless within a week and for that I'll give you a generous
bonus." Harry said.
"Yes sir great Harry Potter." Dobby said in another bow.
"That is all Dobby… you may go now… and take Winky wherever you were going." Harry
muttered with a shrug.
"Oh Harry dear you don't have to do that." Mrs. Weasley said in earnest.
"Not a problem Mrs. Weasley. He likes it. Besides I pay him well." Harry said with a nod.
"Winky and Dobby are dating?" Hermione asked from across the table, as though this was
important information she should have been told.
"Well I'm assuming being he is all dressed up and what have you." Harry muttered with a roll
of his eyes as if this line of conversation was unimportant.
"Anything else Hermione?" Harry asked in a cool manner.
Hermione gave Harry a suspicious look before settling down in her seat once again. It was
silent for a moment before Mr. Weasley finally spoke up.
"So Harry. How has your summer been?"
Harry kicked back in his chair. "Been good. Hanging out, doing stuff, the usual."
"So when does Fleur get into London?" Bill Weasley asked taking a seat next to his father as
Mrs. Weasley began clearing the table.
Harry narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward in his chair eyeing up the eldest son of the
Weasley's. "A couple of days Billy. Not that it really matters to you. Figured I would go see
Cedric when I go see her and help her move in… being I'm the boyfriend." Harry finished
rather harshly.
Before Bill could reply Mr. Weasley spoke. "Umm… Harry I don't know if anyone told you, but…
well." Mr. Weasley rubbed his hands nervously together. "Dumbledore said you were not to
leave this house unless accompanied by Order members."
Harry rested his vision on Mr. Weasley then his eyes darted to Sirius who seemed to be
straining his focus elsewhere.
"What do you mean not leave without Order members? What am I some sort of prisoner?
Listen that old codger can conjure up his stories all he likes, but I'm going to be going out.
I've got places to go and people to see." Harry said heatedly as he rose from his sitting
position.
"I'm sorry Harry we can't let you. It is for your own protection." Mr. Weasley reaffirmed in a
slightly more stern voice.
"Sirius help me out here!" Harry said his voice growing louder.
"Sorry Harry… he talked me into it." Sirius said in a quiet sulking voice. Though brief Sirius
leaned his head back and gave Harry a reassuring wink.
Harry maintained his composure before finally letting his shoulder slump. "I can see I'm
outmatched here, if anyone needs me I guess I'll be in my room."
As Harry began to leave Bill caught his arm. "Yeah, don't worry Harry, one of us adults can
help Fleur move in." Bill said very quietly with a wink.
With that Harry stalked off back upstairs.
"Mate?" Ron asked sticking his head into Harry's darkened room. Before Ron knew it a hand
was around his mouth dragging him into the room.
"Stop struggling Ron. It's just me."
"Harry! Why did you grab me?" Ron asked in a rather tense voice.
"So you didn't scream out like a little girl of course." Harry replied as if Ron should know
better.
"Well why are you sitting by the door in the dark?" Ron asked.
"Waiting to hear your Mom and Dad go to bed."
"Why?"
Harry rolled his eyes with a sigh.
"So we can go get high. Why else?"
A couple of hours had passed before Harry, Ron, and the Twins made their decent back
downstairs into the kitchen.
"Harry? Ron? Fred? Geo… hmph." Tonk's words were muffled as Sirius placed a hand over her
mouth before she could ask what they were doing here. He brought a finger to his lips and
made a shh motion then nodded his head to the back door that lead to a small backyard area.
Harry led the trio of boys out back, while Sirius and Tonks shared a few harsh whispers.
Outback Lupin was already seated along with a dirty pile of rags Harry had noticed at dinner.
"Hey Lupin. Thanks for sticking up for me in there." Harry said giving his former professor a
slap on the back.
Lupin chuckled a bit. "Harry Sirius and myself already knew what Dumbledore wanted and we
knew there was no point in arguing it."
"So hang me out to dry. Brilliant strategy." Harry muttered unimpressed.
"To little faith in us." Lupin replied.
"Oh, then what is your almighty plan?" Harry asked.
Lupin gave a small shrug. "Just ignore what Dumbledore said."
Harry pondered the thought for a moment. "I like it."
"Hear that!" George said giving Lupin a clap on the shoulder.
"He likes your plan." Fred said slapping Lupin's other shoulder.
"So why does Sirius keep dragging around this bag of rags everywhere?" Harry said jabbing a
finger into the bag of dirty rags next to Lupin.
"Ey! Watch it will yah?" The rags replied.
"Holy shit!" Harry said jumping back. "It's alive!"
Lupin chuckled.
"That is Mundungus Fletcher." Sirius said as he shut the door to the kitchen after being
followed out by a rather disgruntled looking Tonks.
"Yah, tha right." Mundungus replied.
"Christ, you could be a ninja. No idea you were even a person. All Metal Gear Solid and shit."
Harry said starring at Mundungus.
"Ah, Harry Dung is quite an investment." George said with a nod popping up besides Harry.
"He has agreed to help supply us in our triple joint business venture." Fred said popping up on
Harry's other side.
"He also is an adequate supplier in other things." Sirius said giving Harry a sly smile.
Harry grinned. "Excellent, pleasure to meet you… Dung is it?"

"Tha is what they call me." Mundungus said extending his hand to shake Harry's.
"So Harry what has your summer really been like?" Sirius said taking a seat on Mundungus's
other side as he began packing a bowl as a tight knit circle was formed.
"You know the usual, parties, smoking… more parties, me and Dud were thinking of meeting
this guy Carlos from Mexico. Based in the States. Supposedly got some good shit." Harry
muttered.
"You gotta be careful getting involved with people you don't know." Sirius said taking a hit
from the bowl and then passing it to Harry.
Harry held it for a moment preparing to give the bowl a spark, but eyed Tonks suspiciously.
"You cool?"
Tonks stared back at Harry with a look he couldn't quite make out.
"He wants to know if you get high?" Sirius said.
"I know what he meant!" Tonks said heatedly. "I just can't believe he wouldn't trust me!
Especially after the way he treated me."
Harry snorted a bit then took a hit from the bowl and passed it along to Ron.
Harry let out a small cough as he blew the smoke from his lungs. "Whew that is some good
shit."
"Yea, you need some before you head off to Ogwarts I'm the guy to talk to." Mundungus
replied.
"You got it Dung. So Sirius what is this epic plan to keep the Order off me while I, you know
go out?" Harry asked.
"I got…" Sirius was cut off as Lupin slapped him in the arm. Sirius rolled his eyes. "Sorry me
and Lupin have a connection here in London. He is more than a handful for even a wizard or
witch."
Harry nodded "Alright man I trust you."
"So Tonks… that metamorph thing… uhh does that apply everywhere?" Harry asked a sheepish
grin plastered on his face.
"Shut it!" Tonks answered back.
A few hours later everyone was well baked.
"You know something this is fabulous." Ron said grabbing Harry by the shoulder in a fit of
laughs.
"Damn right little buddy." Harry answered back. "Blazin the chronic with the almighty Order.
Were doomed." Harry finished with a laugh, as did the rest of the group.
After the laughs died down Sirius piped up.

"Did you know I once saw a half man, half dolphin in Greece?"
"Why of course."
"We only heard about it."
"Every damn minute."
"Harry smoked."
"Last year."
The Twins said and it was silent for a few moments.
"Well he was damn right." Sirius said to a chorus of laughs.
"Hey Sirius…" Harry choked out between his laughs.
"Yeah?" Sirius asked.
"How long with them sausages?"
End Chapter
Not my best, but seriously it took awhile to figure out where I wanted to go with this
thing, being I really didn't have any intention of writing it. Still I think I know where
I want to go. So next we got Fleur visit and maybe Cedric visit in one chapter or
separate. Somewhere in there the naming of a prefect and then back to Hogwarts
and everyone's favorite teacher.
WaylaidWanderer is also another fanfic writer and is going to take up the helm of
writing the World War Z/HP crossover I just gave a brief short story on. I am
personally looking forward to it.
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Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Moving Day
Hermione stood outside Harry's bedroom door in Grimmauld Place listening to the rather
disturbing sounds coming from his room. There would be a couple of furious grunts followed
by heavy thuds and the occasional sounds of glass objects breaking.
Slowly Hermione raised her hand and gave a few light raps against the door. "Harry? Are you
ok in there?" She asked quietly to the shut door.
"What?" Harry's shout sounded through the door.
"I asked if you were ok?" Hermione said a bit louder. "Mrs. Weasley told me to get you for
breakfast."
The door to Harry's room flung open wildly and there stood Harry in boxers and drenched in
sweat. "What was that Hermione? You gotta speak up."
Hermione just stared at Harry a few moments admiring him before she shook herself free of
her daze. "Uh… What were you doing in there?" Hermione asked even though she meant to
tell Harry about breakfast.
"Oh, well I was practicing a new spell I found out. Takes quite a lot of physical energy to wield
it, but in the end it is rather epic. I call it the bacchetta di morte. It is sort of a transfiguration
of the wand and it becomes well… never mind." Harry said thinking it was better to not discuss
it, especially with Hermione.
"A new spell? Most people go their whole lives trying to come up with a new spell and you just
came upon one? You have to show me!" Hermione said practically begging, as her eyes were
agleam with curiosity and wonder.
Harry resigned himself to a sigh.
"Fine Hermione, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeesh. I don't see why mom yells at us. Hermione said she'd get Harry." Ron muttered as he,
Fred, and George trudged up the stairs towards Harry's room.
"Probably thinks Harry misses his old glasses." Fred muttered.
"Probably correct dear brother." George said with a nod.
"Glasses? What are you two on about?" Ron questioned completely confused.
"Nothing, nothing ickle Ronnie." Fred commented.
"You don't think mother might have noticed that it is taking Hermione an extremely long time
to get back?" George said offhandedly with a slight grin.
"So?" Ron barked.
"And I'm sure our dear mother has noticed Harry's interest in the fairer sex has grown quite a
bit…" Fred said his voice trailing off in the end.
Ron seemed to ponder this for a bit as they walked before he grasped what the Twins were
saying and darted ahead in a run, much to the enjoyment of the Twins as they chortled with
laughter.
Ron was closing in fast to Harry's bedroom door, but came to an abrupt halt as Hermione
stepped out with a rather disgusted look on her face.
"I hardly call that epic new magic! That is, that is, that is just disturbing!" Hermione shouted.
Hermione proceeded to march past Ron and the Twins who just arrived with quizzical looks.
"You just don't understand good magic Hermione!" Harry shouted after Hermione as he
appeared in the doorway.
"Oh hey guys what's up?" Harry said with a sheepish grin. Ron and the Twins stared at Harry
or what was clutched in his hands.
"What the hell is that?"
"Is that the new magic she was babbling about?"
"Epic."
Hermione gave one look back as the Twins and Ron disappeared into Harry's room chatting
adamantly with one another. Hermione gave a disgusted grunt and muttered "Boys."
"Beats the hell out of a rubber chicken. C'mon Fred lets go try this out."
"Right behind you George. Time is galleons."
And with that the Twins vanished in a crack as they apparated to their own room. Ron just sat
on the edge of Harry's bed his jaw seemed slack as he seemed to stare off into the distance.
"Uh, Ron something I could help you with?" Harry muttered slightly perplexed.
Ron seemingly shook himself from his fun.
"Wha… no, no. That was insane was that really a…?"
"Yes indeed it was. Epic." Harry said with a smirk as he lit up a smoke.
"So anything else? Cause I was kind of hoping to have a shower." Harry said taking a drag.
"No. Oh wait. Uh… mom said breakfast is ready… of course that was a while ago now, but she
sent us to get you." Ron said rising from the bed heading to the door. "Don't worry though I'm
sure mom will save you something."
"Tell her not to worry, I'm in a bit of a hurry. Heading over to Fleur's new place. You know
move in day and all. Not to mention got to make a stop on the way." Harry said putting out
his smoke.
"Wait, you were serious about leaving! Even after Dumbledore forbid you?" Ron asked in a
scrutinous manner.
"Of course. Sirius and Remus said they had a plan." Harry replied with a laugh as though Ron
were being silly.
"But what if they are wrong and you are caught? Dumbledore will go stark raving mad.
Besides I'm sure mom won't just let you walk out the front door." Ron said earnestly.
"Dumbledore… psshhh I've got an Order of Merlin First Class and Ministry backing. He is as
harmless as a pussycat. And I know your mom. Why do you think I had Dobby come do the
cleaning? She will be watching over him like a hawk."
A few hours later and a few knocks on an apartment door near Diagon Alley.
"Babe!"
"Harry!"
Fleur practically dove into Harry's arms as the two embraced in many deep, long, and
passionate kisses. Harry began trailing kisses down Fleur's neck as she giggled.
"Did you miss me Harry?"
"You have no idea babe." Harry mumbled as he let his hands roam around to Fleur's backside.
"I can tell." Fleur said with a giggle as she brought Harry's face up to hers and kissed him
again.
"I thought you were going to help me move?" Fleur said in a sultry manner as she finally
broke away from Harry's embrace.
"Place looks great." Harry mumbled.
Fleur raised an eyebrow in question. "I haven't even unpacked yet."

"Uh, yeah. I meant it will look great after we've unpacked." Harry muttered as he looked
around the apartment. His eyes rested on one lowly looking box.
"Babe? Is this all you brought?" Harry said meandering over to the box.
Fleur nodded. "Why did I need more?"
"Well… I mean generally when one moves they bring… you know their life kind of with them."
Harry muttered.
Fleur flashed Harry a grin, pulled out her wand and with a wave the box top flipped open and
after a few more waves various objects and furniture began flying out of the box. Dishes filled
kitchen cabinets and furniture landed in well-placed locations and then expanded in size. After
about five minutes the job of unpacking was done.
"Well… I can see I was needed for this." Harry muttered grumpily as he sat down on a sofa.
"Aww. Don't feel bad Harry." Fleur cooed as she sat down next to him running her hands
through his messy hair.
"I can move a bit of furniture out of place for you to move if it makes you feel more manly."
Fleur said in a joking manner as she leaned in for a kiss, however Harry had become
distracted as Fleur's lips touched the side of his cheek and not his lips.
"Actually babe, I am needed for this." Harry said softly as his vision darted around the room.
"I bet you are." Fleur muttered about to clamber onto Harry, but he abruptly rose from the
sofa.
"Babe… you don't have a television… nor a PC… no consoles… not even a DVD player!" Harry
said dashing towards the bedroom just to make sure he was correct.
"Your point?" Fleur asked somewhat confused.
Harry shot her a slick grin. "Point is… time to go shopping."
A few hours later as the sun began to go down over London Harry and Fleur were on their way
back to her apartment. Fleur was studying her new cell phone and asking Harry how it
worked, while Harry himself was carry several bags filled with many shrunken purchases
ranging from a top of the line laptop computer to numerous DVD's for the large flat screen
televisions.
"Babe." Harry muttered with a shake of his head. "I still can't believe you bought that piece of
crap."
"Pipe down you." Fleur said giving Harry a playful slap.
"I'm serious! High School Musical? I mean c'mon." Harry said disdainfully. "Couldn't get me to
watch that worthless piece of shit in a million years."
"Really?" Fleur said stepping in front of Harry wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing
him deeply.
"How about now?" Fleur said coyly.

Harry paused for a moment with a grin as they began to walk again. "Ok, mayb…" Harry fell
silent as they rounded a corner of the hallway they were walking in. There at the end of the
hall in front of Fleur's apartment were members of the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry recognized two of the members right away. Bill Weasley and Mad-Eye Moody, the other
he wasn't so sure about.
"Harry isn't that Bill… and that horrible teacher!" Fleur whispered in a hushed voice.
"Yeah that is them. They want to take me away from you. The old codger thinks it isn't safe
for me to be away."
"I thought you said You-Know-Who wasn't back? So why are they looking for you?" Fleur
whispered curiously as they slowly came closer and closer.
"Because they believe anything that old fool tells them." Harry grunted as they came in
speaking rang with the Order members.
"What brings you guys here?" Harry said moving in front of Fleur.
"Take you back to headquarters of course Potter." Moody sneered.
"Running off like that took some pills, but in the end you knew we would find you. Now don't
make a scene." The man Harry didn't know said.
"Harry…" Fleur whispered nervously.
"Don't worry babe I have a plan… I think." Harry muttered quietly.
"Don't involve her Harry. Far to beautiful to be put into harms way. Moody and Podmore can
take you back and I'll get Fleur's bags." Bill said with a smirk.
What happened next Harry barely could comprehend it happened so quickly. Fleur's apartment
door opened and next thing Harry knew Moody's peg leg was swept out from under him and
careening down the hallway as the old man toppled over. Podmore had a nightstick cracked
into the side of his head knocking him down to the ground unconscious and then Bill was
pinned against the wall by the same nightstick around the throat.
Harry just stood there in awe for a few moments as handcuffs were slapped onto all three
Order members.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Your Uncles helped me out of a bad spot. Was about to be transferred from the London Force
to some small dump of a town. Did me a bit of a favor and made that transfer order
disappear." The man replied.
"You're a cop!" Harry said startled not sure whether to run or stay put.
"Angel, Sergeant Nicholas Angel."
"Yeah, it worked Sirius. I still can't believe you were working with a cop?" Harry said into his
cell phone as Fleur popped in none other than High School Musical.
"I don't even know how it worked. I mean shouldn't Moody have been able to see through a
wooden door?" Harry asked.
After a few moments of listening to Sirius Harry scrunched up his face. "Always knew that guy
was a pervert. Look through people's clothes, but can't see through a wooden door."
Sirius began muttering a few things back to Harry, but Fleur had clicked the lights and rolled
her way into bed and was slowly undressing in front of him.
"Uh, what was that? You know what Sirius never mind I'm busy call you later." Harry muttered
hanging up the phone without waiting for a goodbye. He tossed the phone to the other side of
the room.
"Fleur, you are so evil."
A few hours later Harry snuggled closer to Fleur as she rested her head on Harry's shoulder.
He glanced at the screen of the flat screen they had put up, which was showing the
introduction screen to the horrid movie they just watched. Harry grunted in disgust and slowly
unraveled himself from Fleur's grip.
He dug through one of the shopping bags from earlier then paused as he came to a particular
DVD.
"Babe!"
Fleur shot up looking around "What is it Harry?"
"I need to borrow your owl." Harry said cracking open the DVD and popping it in the player.
"Why?" Fleur asked in a groggy confusion.
"I need to write to some friends at Hogwarts before we go see Chaz tomorrow." Harry said
with a grin as Poltergeist popped up on the television screen.
The officer strummed his fingers on his desk as he stared at the three strange individuals
brought in by Sergeant Angel hours earlier.
"Well… are you just going to stare at it or are you going to make a phone call?" The officer
snarled at Bill, Moody, and Podmore.
Moody looked to Bill, Bill looked to Podmore, Podmore shrugged. Bill looked back to Moody
and shrugged, Moody hung his head and sighed. The officer stared at all three in disbelief.
"You can't tell me you wankers don't even know how to use a telephone?"
End Chapter
Fleur still has an accent I have just given up on typing it. Since I was apparently
doing a pretty bad job. Yes it all seems meaningless, but in the end it all has
meaning… if I remember it.
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Sparing No Expense
xxx
The sun shown brightly into the bedroom window of Fleur's apartment. Harry glared at the
annoying natural light pouring into the bedroom. Harry reluctantly got up and stretched beside
the bed yawning groggily.
Harry turned staring down at Fleur who still slept peacefully in bed. Damn, most chicks are
hideous in the morning, but she is still as fucking hot as ever Harry thought. Harry grinned
down sheepishly at Fleur's peaceful form before reached back and slapping her on the ass.
Fleur shot and stared wildly around before her eyes rested on Harry. "What?"
"Babe, I know you are probably a little tuckered out and all…" Harry chuckled at bit "But, while
I'm in the shower how about some breakfast?"
Fleur's eyes narrowed as she cast a glare at Harry. She grabbed Harry's pillow and chucked it
at him in response, while she buried her head back into her own pillow.
Harry caught the pillow with ease and laughed. "That's what I get after the best night of your
life?"
"Shut up." Fleur mumbled as she hid underneath her own pillow.
"Fine be ungrateful." Harry muttered with a shake of his head as he entered the bathroom. He
wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the thud of her pillow against the door.
xxx
When Harry emerged from the bathroom the sight of the bedroom, as well as the rest of the
apartment surprised him. It was entirely orderly and clean. Fleur was bustling about snapping
DVD's in cases and making the bed.
"Uh… babe do you have OCD?"
Fleur shot Harry a glare. "I was raised in a way where we clean up after ourselves."
"Uh-huh. I was raised with violent threats of beatings, now stop what you are doing and get in
the shower so we can grab the breakfast you were supposed to make, and then go see Chaz."
Fleur once again glared at Harry and began to come at Harry menacingly. She got closer and
closer and then grinned and gave Harry a quick kiss. "You are paying." She quickly said as she
ducked into the bathroom.
"I don't remember that being part of the arrangement." Harry called out to the closed door
before shrugging in a nonchalant manner.
"You want any help washing your front… or back?" Harry called out again, he was pretty sure
he heard a flurry of French swear words, but didn't bother responding as his eyes rested on
the newly purchased television and DVD's.
Harry quickly made his way over to the collection picking up the Poltergeist and grinning to
himself.
"If this plan doesn't knock Chaz out of his funk then nothing will."
xxx
After a hearty breakfast via Harry's wallet and a phone call to Sirius for direction Fleur and
Harry arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
"Chaz! Chaz! Chaz snap out of it!" Harry said as he gave Cedric a few light slaps on the side of
his face. Cedric just continued to stare blankly upwards despite Harry's attempts.
"Harry!" Fleur scolded from behind him, while she talked with Cedric's parents.
Harry ignored her.

"C'mon Chaz were pals! Got three or four good pals and you got yourself a tribe, a posse, a
family! Do it for the kids Chaz! They want you back!" Harry shouted into Cedric's blank staring
face.
"Harry!" Fleur shouted once again and this time marched over and grabbed Harry by the ear
dragging him away muttering away in French.
"Ow, ah, damn it babe! Knock it off!" Harry shouted swiping at Fleur's grip, which she finally
released giving Harry a firm knowing look.
Harry glared in response before marching off from the hospital room.
"Where are you going?" Fleur called out after him.
"To think!" Harry called back.
xxx
Harry looked over his shoulder warily making sure the hospital room he was currently in was
safe to talk in.
"Ok. I'm pretty sure were alone, so the plan is simple. I convince the Diggory's that this is the
best course of action and have Cedric sent to the States. You two pop up scare a couple of
morons witless and Chaz can't help, but laugh and snaps out of his funk."
"I don't know, I've never been a very terrifying ghost Harry. Remember your second year at
Hogwarts? Are sure you want me? Perhaps the Bloody Baron would best be suited for this
job." Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost, asked.
"Trust me Nick these morons will be scared out of their wits." Harry muttered in response.
Nick looked unsure of himself, but nodded in response as his head bobbled atop his slightly
transparent neck and shoulders.
"Now as for you Peeves…" Harry began, but was cut off as Peeves began to sing out a tune.
"Oh Potter, you rotter, your friend is gone and now you…"
"Shut the fuck up Peeves!" Harry whispered harshly startling the poltergeist.
"Now I got this for you Peeves." Harry muttered looking once again over his shoulder as he
pulled out a DVD.
"It is a movie Peeves. These morons are nothing, but predictable and will be back. So I want
you on your best. This movie is the called Poltergeist and it will teach you how to be a proper
poltergeist. Watch it as many times as you have to and become the most epic poltergeist in
the world." Harry muttered shoving the DVD into Peeve's midsection.
Peeve's looked at the box then to Harry.
"Was Peeves not being a good poltergeist?"
"Hell no, you sucked." Harry muttered.

"Now watch and learn."
xxx
"I don't know Harry. I mean sending my only son to the States?" Amos Diggory said with a
fallen and depressed face. Fleur and Mrs. Diggory had left the hospital room to have a cup of
tea.
"Trust me Mr. Diggory. I won't spare any expense to make sure Cha… uh I mean, Cedric, yeah
that's it. Until Cedric is up and about again, it is all on me. I'll cover all the expenses." Harry
said with a firm nod.
Amos rubbed his jaw uncertain of Harry's offer. "You are talking about handing over my son to
muggles! I just don't think I can do it." Amos finished with a shake of his head.
"Mr. Diggory these aren't just any muggles, they are experts in this sort of thing." Harry
muttered in response.
Amos Diggory seemed to be gnawing on his tongue for a few moments.
"Experts?"
"Yup." Harry responded.
Amos sighed. "Fine Harry. Just fix my son. Make him right again."
"Trust me Mr. Diggory. I got it covered. I will spare no expense."
xxx
Cedric stared up at the ceiling blankly in the darkened house. Flashlights shown throughout
the house as pairs of people wandered through it.
"Hey, what was that? What was that? It was sort of like a ooommpp sound?"
"I heard it to."
"What is that? What is that?"
"I think that is the television!"
"Oh yeah right… maybe."
"Wait did you hear that? Did you hear that?"
"I did it was sort of a thumping sound. Had to be some sort of paranormal activity."
"Is there a spooky ghost here?"
"Boo!" Nearly Headless Nick said, his head tilted off his shoulder, as the two morons hunting
ghost entered the bedroom closet of where Cedric rested.
"Bwaghhhagh!" The two morons screamed and ran out of the house in fright.
"Well apparently Harry was right. They were quite frightened." Nearly Headless Nick said quite
pleased with himself as he floated out into Cedric's room.
Peeves appeared with a pop and a whiff of ozone in front of the television where he began to
watch his DVD again.
"Are you sure this is the right DVD?" Nick muttered as he watched the screen.
"Pottersy said it would make Peevesie a better poltergeist."
xxx
End Chapter
Couldn't resist spoof of a spoof. Bit short, but next will be a bit shorter… I think.
Then a long one… I think.
To make up I will give a telling title for a future chapter. Fleur's Big Mistake. I'm
sure some can piece that together with this chapter.
I have about a bajillion different ways I planned to end this story in the next story.
Yes more exciting news a sequel. HP and the Half Baked Prince.
Also I love all you reviewers, but if someone could say what does this mean?
For example last chapter I mentioned Harry and new magic. You know just keep
reminding me about that kind of stuff. Don't worry it will come into play, but the
problem is well drunk and stoned doesn't help me remember so hopefully you get
the idea.
Being drunk and stoned when I type this is awesome (takes awhile to), but just
something to remind me of where I had the story going would be a big help. And yes
I'm that lazy.
Review this Chapter

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Back to Grimmauld Place
xxx
It was about midday and Harry had showered and dressed preparing to leave Fleurs after
spending several days with her. He couldn't help, but smile as she glowered up at him.
"Do you really have to leave already?"
Harry nodded a bit glumly "Babe, you know I do. It is only a matter of time before more of
Dumbledore's inept group comes skulking around and besides you start your new job
tomorrow. What am I supposed to do while you are at work?"
"What you do now. Play video games and watch movies." Fleur responded with a roll of her
eyes.
Harry nodded. "A good idea, but still doesn't solve problem number one and I'm sure even
now they are plotting and planning a way to snatch me away."
"You know I could protect you Harry or at least go with you to make sure you are treated
fairly." Fleur replied in earnest.
"Nah, don't worry about it. I can handle myself. Besides I'm amazed these guys even found
the place. They better hope Dumbledore's theory is wrong otherwise were all going to be
toast."
Fleur sighed a bit to Harry's response and rose to her knees on the bed so she could be face to
face with Harry. "Then I guess this is goodbye." She whispered softly before giving Harry a
long and passionate goodbye kiss.
After several minutes of passionate snogging and Harry's hands roaming Fleur's body they
finally broke apart.
"When will I see you again?" Fleur asked innocently enough.

Harry gave a shrug. "Suppose Christmas break. It'll be the next time we can spend any real
quality time together." Harry finished with a rather sheepish grin.
Fleur once again sighed heavily. "That long… Well I usually have holidays with my parents will
you be up to it?"
Harry's expression soured. "Do I have to?"
Fleur giggled a bit "Yes. It will be good for you."
Harry now sighed, "If I must, but you have to promise me something." Harry said sternly
waving a finger in Fleur's direction.
"Yes?" Fleur asked with an innocent look.
"Watch out for that shifty Weasley character you work with. He can't be trusted." Harry said
firmly.
Fleur scowled a bit as she reached both arms around Harry's neck. "Harry do you think I'm
stupid?"
"Uhh… no."
"Harry I know he likes me, but he is just going to have to buck up because I like someone else
who happens to be standing in front of me." Fleur said in a soothing seductive manner that
made Harry all, but melt in her arms.
"You are evil, you know that?" Harry said leaning in for a kiss.
"I can be." Fleur responded leaning in to embrace Harry, but just as quickly Harry broke away
in a grunt of pain clutching his scar.
"Harry?" Fleur shouted as he staggered about the room for a few moments clutching at his
scar, which burned hot with rage.
"Harry what is the matter?" Fleur asked getting out of bed and rushing to his side.
Harry recomposed himself before responded.
"I think, I think it's a sign… I haven't been getting high enough."
xxx
Harry sighed as he looked up at the wreck of Grimmauld Place. His scar certainly felt much
better after smoking a bowl on the way over, but he couldn't help take in the dejected looking
neighborhood once again. It looked even worse in the daytime and for whatever reason Sirius
called it home.
Harry entered the abode with a grim expression that immediately turned to awe as he looked
about the place. The horrible grime that had once coated the place was gone. He looked down
the hall and the portrait of Sirius's mom was gone and the whole place looked as if it was
brand new.
"What the fuck? Am I in the right place?" Harry muttered to himself as he was about to go
outside and check the address again. He paused as just then a horrible looking creature came
plunging into the room headfirst and hitting the floor with thud.
"Kreacher can say what he wants about the horrible mudbloods that besmirch his mistresses
home. Oh what she would say if she saw poor Kreacher. She would say…" The ugly looking
thing Harry was looking at paused as it noticed him.
"Who is this? Kreacher does not know, but who?"
"Uhhh…" Was all Harry managed before the familiar house elf Dobby came in and gave
Kreacher a kick in the arse.
"Work! Work you!" Dobby shouted.
"Dobby?" Harry asked his eyebrow quirked in question.
"Harry Potters sir!" Dobby said in a deep bow.
"Is it really? Is the horrible brat really Harry Potter?" Kreacher questioned slowly approaching
Harry.
Kreacher only made it so far before Dobby once again gave Kreacher a sharp kick sending the
hideous looking house elf careening down the hallway.
"Harry Potters should not have to listen to the grumbling of such a worthless elf." Dobby said
with a look of shame.
Harry stared at Dobby with a quizzical look. "What the hell are you doing Dobby?"
"Dobby is showing that worthless elf how to be proper. Dobby is ashamed he even let the elf
talk to such a great and noble wizard like you Harry Potter."
"Right, uh… thanks. Did you clean this place up all by yourself, while training that, that thing?"
Harry asked.
Dobby nodded vigorously.
"Dobby you have exceeded my expectations and for that I got something here for you." Harry
muttered reached into a satchel that Fleur had purchased for him on one of their shopping
trips. He pulled a six pack of butter beer remember the elf's comments on it being strong for
them.
"Keep up the good work Dobby." Harry muttered with a grin.
"Dobby is extremely grateful for Harry Potter's benevolence, but Dobby can not help, but
wonder why Harry is wearing a man-purse? Is he trying to be more like a girl? If he is Winky
can help the great Harry Potter."
Harry's expression immediately soured.
"Damn it!" Harry shouted taking off the satchel and tossing it down the hall.
"Stupid fucking thing! Keep my things in there my arse! Knew it made me look gay!"
xxx
"Don't you try to deny it Sirius Black! Harry only has one uncle and he is a muggle and we all
know that he didn't sick that pleaseman on my son! The pleaseman said uncles and I know
the games you two play!" Molly Weasley shrieked.
"Don't you try to squirm your way out of this Remus!" Molly shrieked again as Remus looking
absentmindedly around attempted to excuse himself from the kitchen.
"Very well done." George whispered to Sirius from across the table.
Sirius responded with a grin, but immediately turned his expression to confusion as Molly
rounded on them again glaring.
"I swear if one hair is harmed on Harry's head…" Molly began to say, but from the door the
kitchen came small knock.
"Ahoy-hoy."
"Harry!" Half the room shouted.
"See not one hair harmed on Harry's head." Sirius muttered.
"To right." Remus answered.
"Just like us." The Twins said in unison.
"Harry James Potter! You have a lot of explaining to do! Where have you been? You could
have been killed! Don't you know how dangerous it is out there?" Mrs. Weasley began to shout
reading him the riot act, but Harry remembering one of Twins mentioning to cut her off early,
did just that.
"Mrs. Weasley I'm so sorry for the confusion. I didn't realize how dangerous it was out there. I
was hopeless and hungry for days. And now look at me… just skin and bones. No idea how I
even survived." Harry said softly wiping away a pretend tear as the Twins, Sirius, and Lupin
glared at him.
Molly's glare faltered as she rose her hand up to her mouth and choked back tears. "I'm sorry
Harry dear forgive me. I didn't realize… I'm just… sit down and let me cook you up some
lunch."
Harry continued his expression of sorrow until Mrs. Weasley's back was turned. Then grinned
at the rest of the occupants of the kitchen and did a wild dance behind Mrs. Weasley's back
before taking a seat.
"Brilliant." The Twins whispered.
"Lucky. You didn't have to deal with her last few days." Sirius muttered.
"Smell her all over you." Remus replied.

Hermione just scowled at Harry's manipulation of Mrs. Weasley.
"Good to have you back mate." Ron said jubilantly completely ignoring the proceeding events
that had taken place. "Don't know if you heard, but me and Hermione were named Prefects!"
Harry snorted.
"Ron did I ever tell you how great you are?"
xxx
End Chapter
Yes, took it back a notch from the over the top stuff. Like I said couldn't resist. Lucky
I didn't go with my first version with Billy Maze and Chipotle.
Any who. I decided to warn readers now. A review I got gave me an idea. All I can
ask is trust me. It will be epic.
Review this Chapter

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One Hell of a Ride… One Hell of an Arrival
"Oh, for heaven's sake Sirius, Dumbledore said no!" Mrs. Weasley shrilled as Sirius appeared
in dog form at the entrance hall of Grimmauld place. The hall was filled with various school
trunks and owl cages as the students of Hogwarts prepared to head to platform 9 and ¾ under
a guard of Order members.
"You know Sirius, you really need to take this matter seriously. Dumbledore is a very serious
individual Sirius and to not take his words seriously is no laughing matter Sirius. The
seriousness of the situation is so thick in the air that even you must notice it Sirius, seriously."
Harry said with a grin as the dog marched back into the house and a few moments later Sirius
reappeared in human form.
"Like I haven't heard that one a hundred times before Harry!" Sirius barked at him before
changing back into dog form, while Harry snorted.
"Pipe down all of you!" Moody shouted as his eyes skimmed the run down street. "I think it is
safe to move."
Harry was by his side in a few moments whipping off his coat to reveal himself dressed in all
black.
"Yes the time to go is now, we shall move swiftly and quietly like the ninja." Harry said in a
whisper as he pulled a black mask over his face and ran in an awkward zig zag pattern before
ducking behind a trashcan and stared about as if he were in a battle zone.
After a few moments of peering out from behind the trashcan Harry leapt out doing a horribly
formed cartwheel and landed at a funny angle and immediately grabbed at his back. "Ahh… oh
wow, that didn't work at all."
The Weasleys, Hermione, as well as the Order members just stared on as Harry meandered
down the street clutching his back cursing at himself.
"Well there goes the idea of trying to look inconspicuous." Tonks muttered to the group.
"Has he lost his mind?" Mrs. Weasley said in a harsh whisper.
"Of course not!" Moody barked. "On his toes! Constant Vigilance!" Moody finished before
clunking off after Harry looking rather pleased.
"He's crazy to!" Mrs. Weasley said with a shake of her head.
xxx
The trip for Harry was rather comical as he, Sirius as a dog, and Moody marched ahead of the
rest of them. Harry had put back on his coat and after a quick spell from Lupin had the ache in
his back removed.
Now Harry was pointing out what he called "shifty" individuals on the street. Though the ones
he pointed out were anything, but shifty. Harry could barely contain his laughter as Moody
would clunk off and begin interrogating helpless passerby's.
"That one right there Moody." Harry called out waving his finger in the air.
"Has to be a Death Eater, just looking at the way…" Harry didn't even bother finishing as he
began chuckling, while watching Moody stormed off in the direction of the old woman he had
pointed out.
Sirius let out a raspy barking laugh.
"Dogs can't laugh Sirius." Harry said patting Sirius on the head. "Wait a minute… where the
hell is he going?"
Harry watched as Moody passed by the old woman and made to a rather menacing looking
man in a tie and vest with a metallic glint in his teeth.
Harry, Sirius, and the rest of the group, who had caught up, watched as Moody exchanged
words with the gentleman. The conversation seemed to grow rather intense and then just as
Moody reached into his pocket to grab his wand the man grabbed Moody by the head and
tossed him to the ground.
"Oh my!" Mrs. Weasley gasped.
Next thing they knew the man was smacking Moody's head with a car door repeatedly. Lupin
was racing across the street in a panic as a strange ringing sound echoed about the buildings.
Before Lupin could get there the man tossed Moody aside and gave him a swift kick. Then
picked up what Harry recognized as a car phone.
"Bonjour?"
After a moment on the phone the man got in his car and sped away leaving a beaten Moody to
be picked up by Lupin.
xxx
"Wow, don't see that everyday." Harry muttered as Lupin dragged over the ragged and beaten
form of Moody.
"You two will not say another word, am I understood?" Mrs. Weasley said from directly behind
Harry and Sirius.
"Mrs. Weasley I was pointing to the old woman. Not the guy. I can't be held responsible for
this." Harry said as Mrs. Weasley glared at him and chose seemingly to ignore him as she
stalked off. As soon as she was out of earshot Harry leaned down to Sirius.
"As if you could say anything to begin with mutt."
xxx
The old woman that Harry had pointed out was now gone disappearing into a dark alley.
"Impressive Pucey, old woman who would have ever thought." Lucius muttered. "So tell me
was it Potter?"
The old woman that stood before him moments ago was now a young man, albeit still wearing
old woman's clothes. "Definitely, Potter and Black was with them as well."
"Good. Very good, the Dark Lord with welcome you with open arms for this information."
Lucius muttered with a smile, but it faltered quickly as he spotted a blond haired man in
aviators wearing a police officer's vest and cap. Lucius gave no warning as he darted off down
the alley.
"What are you doing?" Pucey called out.
"Stop! In the name of the Law!" Nicholas shouted and just as Pucey turned he was struck in
the head with the officers baton. Pucey's eyes crossed and he collapsed to the ground.
xxx
"So Lucius, where is Pucey?" The elder Crabbe grunted as Lucius popped up next to him after
apparating.
"He… He didn't make it." Lucius muttered.
"What do you mean he didn't make it? The Dark Lord won't listen to that bullocks as an
excuse!" The elder Goyle rambled.
xxx
"Good. Very good Lucius, this information pleases me." Voldemort said casually as his eyes
swept about the room.
"Still I couldn't help notice that one of our newest recruits is missing? If I may ask what has
become of him?" Voldemort asked casually, though his eyes danced with menace.
"My Lord…" Lucius said in a groveling tone. "We, we lost Pucey."
Voldemort's eyes widening skeptically "Lost?"
"Lost? Where exactly did you fucking lose him?" Voldemort hissed his temper rising.
"My Lord it wasn't my fault. It was a muggle. He was a…"
"You lost Pucey to a muggle of all things! You worthless scum!" Voldemort said anger filling his
voice.
"I'm sorry my Lord!"
"Crucio!"
xxx
Harry reached up scratching his scar. "Sorry what was that Johnson?" Harry asked passing off
the joint he had lit up.
Harry was now on the Hogwarts Express, which was zooming across the countryside on its
way to Hogwarts. He sat in a compartment with his fellow quidditch teammates because Ron
and Hermione had mumbled something about Prefect duties.
"I said. I was named quidditch captain this year." Angelina repeated herself.
"Oh!" Harry said with a look of surprise. "Congratulations then." Harry said with a nod as he
kicked off his shoes. Then proceeded to lay his feet in Angelina's lap. "Now if you don't mind
the best seeker you have ever seen needs a foot massage." Harry said with a grin.
Angelina glared at Harry for moment "You know Harry I've been ok with this change of yours,
but now that I'm captain I want you in tip top shape, understand?" Angelina said and despite
herself began massaging Harry's feet.
Harry took a long drag from the joint that had reached him again, savoring the green
monster, before passing the joint to Angelina. "No problem, I'm in my prime."
Harry couldn't help, but chortle as he watched Angelina take a hit and pass off the joint. "So…
tip top shape you say?" Harry questioned as he nodded to the joint.
"Quidditch doesn't start for weeks. I was only saying when it does…" Her voice trailed off
absentmindedly as Harry grinned.
"So Angelina, damn good foot massage by the way, what do you think about me and Fleur?"
Harry asked.
"What do you mean what do I think about you and Fleur?" Angelina said her foot massage
suddenly stopping.
Harry gave a small shrug. "I'm just saying Fleur may be into exploring a little more of her wild
side these days." Harry said in a nonchalant manner as if nothing of interest was happening.
"And?"
"Well, she may be more interested in um… getting in touch with her more feminine lesbian
tendencies." Harry muttered somewhat casually.
Angelina eyes became sharp as she tossed Harry's feet from her lap. "Fleur Delacour has
lesbian tendencies?" She scoffed.
"Of course she has… she just doesn't know it yet." Harry replied with a jab of his finger and a
satisfied grin.
"You know Harry I don't know if anyone has told you, but you are somewhat of a pervert."
George muttered plopping down next to Angelina and resting an arm over her shoulder.
Harry ignored the comment completely "Wait a minute I thought Fred was with Angelina?"
"I am Fred."
"No you aren't. You're George. I can tell."
"Damn. How the hell could tell Harry?" George muttered.
"Lucky guess."
"Fuck!" The Twins said in unison.

"So wait if you are with Angelina who is Fred with?" Harry said staring down at the other twin
who had his arm wrapped around Katie Bell.
"Bell! I thought you were with Wood, Bell?"
"I was until that whole disaster you created." Katie said with a hint of malice.
"Don't know what you are talking about." Harry replied coolly.
"Harry we know." Lee muttered.
"You know?"
"Of course we know. You don't think after Katie and Ollie broke up that that story would stay
secret and by the way no funny business this year or you will deal with the wrath of the
Weasleys." Fred muttered and George nodded as a sign of agreement with his brother.
"Wait then who is with Alicia?" Harry asked.
"Me of course." Lee said pulling Alicia close with a giggle as she polished off the joint.
"You know what." Harry said rising to his feet. "You all switch around who you are dating so
much… you just need to strip down and just have one giant orgy and be done with it." Harry
said with a firm nod as he made his way next to the compartment exit.
It was quiet for a few moments as Harry stared at his quidditch mates.
"I kind of like his idea." George muttered pointing a finger at Harry.
"Pervert!" Angelina said shoving George off her.
George scoffed muttering about how he was only joking.
"Don't be sorry George… she is just jealous that she won't get the chance to sample the
goods." Harry said patting himself near his crotch.
xxx
"Not that good! Keep telling yourself that Bell!" Harry yelled at the door after he was shoved
from the compartment.
"Potter!" A familiar drawling voice called out.
"Hey Draco. What's going on man?" Harry shouted upon seeing his arch nemesis.
"Nothing much Pothead McPotter." Draco scoffed with a sneer meant to get under Harry's skin.
Harry eyed Draco for a moment his face turning purple. "Draco… Drago… Same name, it's the
same guy. You tried to kill Sly! I'm gonna kill you!" Harry said charging at Malfoy. Malfoy's
eyes widened a bit in confusion as he fumbled around in his robes trying to pull out his wand,
but he was to late as Harry reached.
Harry stopped abruptly in front of Malfoy his outstretched hands only inches from Draco's
neck.
"Only joking." Harry said with a grin as he gave Malfoy a light slap on the face. "Good lord,
Crabbe, Goyle, you've gotten fat." Harry said regarding Malfoy's thugs.
Crabbe and Goyle looked down at their wide selves before glaring menacingly at Harry. "Now
if you will all excuse me." Harry muttered pushing his way through the wide pair delicately.
"There we go." Harry finished with a triumphant look as he passed between the two. "I'll just
be off."
The trio just stared after Harry a few moments before Malfoy, after regaining his composure
made after him. "Move you great lumps." He snarled shoving Crabbe and Goyle apart best he
could.
Malfoy trailed after Harry calling him every name in the book. Harry just continued on down
the train unaware of Malfoy in the slightest until. "Heard about Diggory Potter! Also heard you
were spending a boatload of money trying to make him right in the head again. Pity the Dark
Lord didn't kill him, could have saved you a fair bit of gold I expect."
Malfoy grinned wickedly as Harry came to an abrupt halt. "That's right Potter. I said it… now
what are you going to do about it." Malfoy said readying himself for a challenge.
Harry backed up a couple of steps and turned abruptly. Malfoy took a step back in preparation
as Harry stared at Malfoy almost as if he didn't exist.
"Good point Malfoy. You just reminded me of something I needed to do." Harry said in a
casual manner then casually turned to face one of the compartment doors. Seemingly out of
nowhere Harry bought his foot down on the door knocking it clean open.
xxx
"Potter… What the hell?"
Harry looked back at the wrecked door he had just kicked in and shrugged "Just trying to
make an entrance."
"So you kicked in the door?"
Harry once again shrugged "Seemed like a good idea at the time, but listen I know you."
Harry said waving a finger at the older Gryffindor in front of him, whose friends were currently
gawking at Harry.
"You're uh, Mcwhopper or something right?" Harry muttered snapping his fingers trying to
remember the boy's name.
"It's McLaggen. Cormac McLaggen."
xxx
"Muscle? What are you going on about Potter?" Cormac muttered.
"Look at Potty groveling for friends." Malfoy said with a laugh to Crabbe and Goyle as he made
fun of Harry outside the broken compartment door.
"Mick. Can I call you Mick?"
"I'd prefer not."
"Ok then Mick, I'm offering you a chance to be in clique. Hang with the cool kids. What is so
hard to understand?" Harry said completely ignoring Malfoy and Cormac's previous protest.
Cormac rubbed his jaw a moment in thought then brought his head closer to Harry in a
whisper. "What about girls?"
"As many as you want. I'm Harry fucking Potter. They throw themselves at me!" Harry replied
with a whiff of mock arrogance.
"Well I was thinking of one in particular. You're friends with Granger right?"
Malfoy gave a choking laugh as he buckled over.
"Yeah." Harry said his face scrunched up in confusion. "Hermione? Really? She is rather
annoying you know?"
"You hear that Crabbe, Goyle? McLaggen wants the filthy little Mudblood." Malfoy said still
laughing as his thugs chuckled and chortled.
"Well she looked really good at the Yule Ball last year… just can't get it out of my mind. She
isn't with Krum still is she?" Cormac asked seemingly ignoring Malfoy's jabs, but his face was
starting to redden a bit.
"Uh…" Harry really had no idea, but he chose to speak wisely. "Hell no. She's single and even
if not you are a stud. No way would she resist."
Cormac nodded holding out his hand. Harry shook it "We have an accord."
"Yes now, excuse me for a moment." Cormac replied cracking his knuckles and pulling out his
wand.
xxx
Harry let out a low whistle.
"Nice work Mick." Harry said admiring the three unconscious forms of Malfoy, Crabbe, and
Goyle. "I see my choice was not in vain, although you do seem to have a bit of a temper."
Cormac merely shrugged. "Anything else you need Potter?"
"Hold up a sec." Harry answered with a grin as he leaned over Malfoy's unconscious form. He
stayed there for a few moments as Cormac tried to lean over Harry's shoulder to see what he
was doing.
Harry shot up to admire his handy work. "What do you think Mick?"
Cormac looked down at Malfoy's forehead reading the words now written there out loud. "I
love the cock."
"Thought it had a nice ring to it myself." Harry replied with a roguish smile.
"This should be… an interesting year." Cormac said with a shake of his head.
Xxx
"Where do you think Harry is?"
"Knowing him I'd say he is probably getting into trouble." Hermione answered Ron with a grim
expression. "I suppose we should go look for him."
"Why?"
"Because were Prefects of course." Hermione replied, but she was saved from searching as the
compartment door flung open and there stood Harry a huge smile plastered on his face.
"You guys aren't going to believe what just happened. It was so… so…" Harry paused as he
looked about the compartment. He recognized Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, but had no
idea who the funny looking girl sitting nearest to the door was. She had her wand tucked
behind her ears, wore radish earrings and a necklace made of butter beer caps. She stared up
at Harry, not blinking, causing him to feel slightly disturbed.
"You're Harry Potter, you know." The girl said in a rather singsong dreamy voice.
Harry blinked. His vision traveled to Ron who shrugged, as did Neville. Hermione just stared
on a placid look on her face. Ginny on the other hand seemed to be on the brink of breaking
into fits.
Harry sat down across from the odd girl running his hands across his jaw studying her
curiously. He meant to ask who she was, but…
"Why the fuck are you dressed like that?"
"Harry!" Hermione hissed. Harry ignored her his eyes stuck on the strange girl who didn't
bother to answer. She just stared at Harry, not blinking, for a few moments before her eyes
rested on a magazine she was reading… upside down.
"Why the hell are you reading that magazine upside down?" Harry asked skeptically jabbing a
quavering finger toward the magazine.
"Because that is the way you are supposed to read it." The girl replied after another moment
of staring blankly at Harry.
Harry raised his arms in confusion. "You know, you know, why the hell are you here?" Harry
asked and the girl just stared at him unblinking and went back to her upside down magazine.
Harry just shook his head turning to his mates "Why the hell is she here?"
"She was sitting here before us." Ginny offered.
"So! Why didn't you just kick her the…" Harry didn't finish his question as the compartment
door opened.
"Harry?"
"Oh hey! What is going on Chang?"
xxx
Harry was walking along the train's hallway with Cho Chang after he left his compartment
abruptly.
"So Cho, I was meaning to talk to you about something. You know how Chaz kind of…"
"Harry don't you miss how we used to walk like this?" Cho said interrupting Harry and
grasping his hand in hers.
"Uh, what?" Harry said confusion running through him, but he shook it off. "I was saying um,
that you know now that Chaz is out of the way me and Fleur were wondering if…"
"Do you remember how we would walk around the lake like this Harry?" Cho said her voice
lofty and filled with emotion.
"What the fuck?" Harry muttered to himself in a whisper.
"Oh here is our compartment. Shall we go in Harry?" Cho said in a rather excited voice.
Harry stared at her completely perplexed. "Uh, my compartment was back there." Harry
answered motioning down the hall.
"No. No it wasn't Harry. Stop being silly. You always sit with me, Marietta, and Zach on our
way to Hogwarts."
"Who?"
Cho grinned at him with a soft giggle. "Stop being silly!" Cho said giving Harry a light slap
before pushing open the compartment door.
"Potter! What is he doing here?" A boy who Harry assumed must be Zach shouted in a slightly
nervous tone.
"Uh… yeah, apparently I ride with you to Hogwarts." Harry responded back as his eyes shifting
around the compartment in confusion.
Cho took a seat next to the girl he assumed was Marietta. "I told you I would find him. He was
of course getting into trouble with that crazy Looney Luna Lovegood."
"Oh no." Marietta said. "You said you were going to the bathroom."
"No I didn't."
"What the hell is going on here? Chang what the fuck are you talking about? I've never rode to
Hogwarts with you?" Harry suddenly shouted.
"You aren't going to hurt me Potter are you?" The boy Harry assumed was named Zach said.
"I don't even know who the hell you are!" Harry responded back.
"Harry, stop it! You are embarrassing us!" Cho scolded in a hiss.
Marietta got up slowly giving Cho a smile, she motioned to Zach, who got up and sat down by
Cho seemingly restraining her. As soon as she and Harry were outside, despite shouts of
protest from Cho her face turned stern.
"Listen, Cho hasn't been… well... right. She is having issues after the whole ordeal with Cedric.
And you, you great prat sent him away and now she is even more hysterical and somehow she
got it in her head that she was dating you and not Cedric."
Harry just stared at the girl before his mouth agape. After a brief time he closed his mouth
and then spoke. "So you are saying she's lost her marbles… great just fucking great." Harry
mumbled.
"You know this isn't how it was supposed to happen!" Harry suddenly said heatedly. "I was
supposed to seduce her and be all slick and smooth. Then bam! Threesome with me Cho and
Fluer, but no now the crazy bird had to go insane!"
Marietta glared at him "How can you be so insensitive? You know something Potter?"
"What?" Harry snarled.
"You are worthless!" Marietta hissed bringing an arm up preparing to slap the living daylights
out of Harry, but just before she could make contact another arm grabbed hers.
Harry nodded with smug smirk on his face. "Good work Mick. I trust you sensed that I needed
your aid?"
"Actually the shouting could be heard up and down the train." Cormac replied.
"Shut up Mick."
xxx
"So what did Chang want mate?" Ron asked when Harry casually tossed open the door of the
compartment and strolled in.
"Oh, uh… no idea, apparently she has gone completely insane." Harry said as if it were an
everyday occurrence.
"What do you mean comple… oh?" Hermione began to say, before the buff and burly Cormac
McLaggen followed Harry in.
"Have a seat Mick." Harry said motioning over near Hermione. "This is Mick guys, good friend
of mine."
"Harry. I've been friends with you since first year and I don't remember you ever being friends
with him?" Hermione said in question as Cormac took a seat down next to her. He immediately
began speaking to her allowing Harry to ignore Hermione's question.
Harry pulled out a joint preparing to spark it up before having to change into his robes, but he
once again couldn't help, but stare at the strange girl sitting across from him. The girl stared
back, once again not blinking.
"Wrackspurt got you?" Luna asked Harry.
"What the fuck is a Wrackspurt you nutter?" Harry said losing himself and suddenly reaching
over knocking the magazine from Luna's hands. "Seriously what the hell is wrong with you?"
All eyes were on Harry as he ranted for a few moments. "I just don't understand what is… is…"
Harry's voice trailed off as he cocked his head sideways staring at the article before him. He
quickly swiped up the magazine and read it.
Everyone figuring Harry's spat was over seemed to relax, but Harry soon rose up tossing the
magazine back into Luna's lap. He had his phone whipped out in a flash.
"Answer you worthless git!" Harry suddenly said the phone pressed to his ear.
"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed.
"What do you mean no?… Kreacher?… I don't care how proper of an elf you are now! Put on
Sirius!" Harry shouted.
Harry paced about the cramped compartment for a few moments, while the others looked at
him like he was a complete nutter.
"Sirius finally! Or should I call you Stubby Boardman?" Harry said menacingly.
Harry listened for a few moments. "A likely story. I know what you are doing, trying to cover
your tracks. That whole story of being there for my parents and being framed! Bah, instead I
learn the truth! You were off shagging some floozy named uh…" Harry once again tore away
the magazine from Luna who had ignored Harry and just began to read again. "Doris Purkiss."
Harry listened to Sirius for another few moments. "Rubbish you say? They couldn't print it if it
wasn't true!" Sirius began to mutter a response, but Harry covered the receiver and turned to
Luna. "What's the deal with that magazine anyway?"
"My daddy is the editor of the Quibbler. He makes sure all his stories are authentic." Luna
replied giving Harry a quaint stare that made him shiver.
"Oh I got you now Black… or should I call you Boardman. I got the daughter of the editor right
here and she says all the stories are one hundred percent authentic!"
"Oh you do, do you?" Harry said after a few moments. "Just remember I got my eye on your
Sirius or should I call you Stubby?"
Harry waited for a response, but none came except the sound of a lick then dial tone. "Can
you believe that he hung up on me?"
"Harry mate… I highly doubt Sirius is Stubby Boardman." Ron muttered after he came out of
his shock at the display that had just occurred.
"Everything in that magazine is rubbish anyway." Hermione added.
"You really know Stubby Boardman?" Luna asked with a cock of her head.
Harry rolled his eyes at all of them before finally putting the joint to his lips and lighting it
taking a relaxing hit off the sticky icky. He was about to pass it off when he met Luna's curious
gaze. He paused not sure of what to do as the strange girl stared up at him.
"You… You've earned it." Harry said passing Luna the joint.
xxx
Snape stood atop the staircase leering at the oncoming students arriving by carriage from
Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. He folded his arms across his chest menacingly giving off a cold
expression causing students to quiet when the passed him. Normally he wouldn't bother being
here, but with Filch on leave he had no choice, but to make sure things remained orderly when
the group of imbeciles returned to Hogwarts, he would hold fast.
Then a disturbing sound invaded Snape's ears. It was distant at first, but it grew louder and
louder. It was laughter. Snape gazed across the influx of students his eyes resting of course
on Harry Potter.
Potter wasn't alone he had a whole hoard of misfits following him including, what Snape had
deduced as a bright student turned into another imbecile by Potter. Luna Lovegood was simply
laughing in hysterics for no apparent reason and practically being dragged up to Hogwarts by
Ron Weasley.
Harry reached the foot of the stairs when Ron dropped Luna from his grasp, she was still
laughing hysterically.
"Blimey what does she find so funny?" Ron asked Harry.
Snape simply gazed down at the group his eyebrows rising a bit in contempt. Then Luna spoke
through her hysterical laughter.
"Hey padre. What the hell are you doing Snape waiting for a bus?"
Luna broke down into hysterics once again and Harry had a hard time keeping a straight face
as Snape's eyebrows rose up even higher. Snape was about to speak when even louder
hysteric shouting reached his ears.
"You can't! We always walk in together! You can't we always go to the opening feast together!
Harry!" Cho screamed as she struggled against Zacharias Smith and Marietta.
Snape's gaze wandered to them as they past by, another wonderful young student whose
mind was ruined because of the Potter brat. Snape's eyebrows now couldn't be seen as they
were up in his greasy hair. He glared down menacingly at Potter.
Once again Snape didn't get to speak as more shouts were heard coming closer.
"Professor! Professor! Potter and that boy right there, McLaggen did this to us!" Malfoy
shouted pointing to the battered and bruised faces of himelf, Crabbe, and Goyle.
Snape's eyes focused on Malfoy's forehead and he shook his head with disappointment. "Mr.
Malfoy please get into the castle and wash your forehead." Snape hissed finally being able to
speak.
"What are you talking about?" Malfoy responded back. "What about my forehead?" Malfoy said
desperately trying to stare at his own forehead and after a few moments he gave up and
turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "What does it say you great lumps?"
"Never mind that Draco." Snape hissed. "Just get in and wash it off."
After Draco and his cronies wandered in Snape glared down at Harry. "Negative points at the
start of the year. I don't believe it has happened to anyone else before."
"First time for everything." Harry answered above Luna's hysteric laughter.
"I would give you detention Potter, but I don't believe that would phase you…"
"He means I wouldn't go." Harry said to his group.
"So instead." Snape said ignoring Harry's comment. "I believe we shall cancel your permission
to go to Hogsmeade this year." Snape finished, his lips curling triumphantly.
Harry couldn't be sure what happened next, but a horrible screeching sound was heard and
the next thing Harry knew Snape was staggering down the steps past him with what, Harry
took as a spider monkey, on his back.
After careful examination and the fact that Zach and Marietta came dashing out of the castle,
Harry deduced that it was not a spider monkey, but Cho Chang clinging to Snape's back
desperately trying to claw his eyes out screaming hysterically.
"No You can't do that! That is where Harry and I spend our best time together!" Cho shrieked
as she clamored onto Snape's back scratching at his face. Student's passed by laughing,
others even stopped to watch. Only a few lowly Slytherins stopped to help, but after one boy
received a foot to the face from Cho's flailing limbs, they were not to keen to approach.
"That's what you get for favoritism!" Harry shouted.
"Get this crazy bitch off me!" Snape hissed.
"That isn't nice to say about students you know!" Harry shouted.
"Harry mate brilliant, but don't you think we should be heading in." Fred and George both
asked seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
Harry looked at Snape struggling as Cho continued to scratch away shrieking. He looked down
at Luna who was pointing wildly and laughing hysterically. Harry reached up putting his arms
around each of their shoulders.
"Guys… This is going to be a great year."
End Chapter
Hope you all enjoyed. I'm sure some recognized the car door scene if not youtube
bullet-tooth tony (Snatch). I've decided to just give where I get some of these ideas.
Seriously most can just be viewed there. Oh future reference Darth Vader Mash Up.
Won't be using it, but some lines might be there… so I guess might use it, also
seriously funny vid.
Oh and Nicholas was here again. May or may not have a part later, why I mentioned
him. Speaking of which, forgot to put it in.
"Nicholas very nice collar if I didn't say so earlier."
"Thank you inspector." Nicholas said with a smile.
"I also have some more good news. We found your transfer papers." The inspector replied.
"What?" Nicholas shouted.
"Yes, apparently they were stuck in a book about regulations and code of conduct." The
inspector said with a nod.
Nicholas felt like vomiting. Dirty rotten… they swore they got rid of them! Nicholas thought.
"Lucky to have found those transfer papers… I mean seriously when was the last time any of
us looked at a code of conduct manual."
Couldn't resist a shot at them. ;)
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sastath
Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Meal with a Hutt
"Listen… Hermione I can't be held responsible for what happened back there."
"I didn't say you were responsible. I just said that we should have done something Professor
Snape is a teacher after all." Hermione replied with a sigh at the point she had been trying to
make.
"Yeah, but not a good one." Ron muttered hastily with a snort.
Harry couldn't help, but laugh. "That was a good one Ron." Harry said giving Ron a shot to the
arm.
Hermione seemed to grunt something unintelligible and marched ahead of the boys as they
made their way to the Great Hall for the opening feast and sorting. Harry didn't mind and
shrugged to show his feelings on the matter before turning back to Ron to discuss the start of
term party to be held following the feast.
xxx
Harry took his seat across from Hermione and stared down expectantly at his golden plate.
"So hungry I could a horse."
"Noticed Snape isn't back yet." Ron said with a wicked smile taking a seat next to Harry.
"Well did you also notice Hagrid is missing?" Hermione asked in a rather smug voice.
"Hermione he is probably just blending in or something." Harry said not even bothering to
check the staff table. His vision was situated on Malfoy who was now sitting at the Slytherin
table with a huge smudge mark on his forehead from where he tried to wipe away Harry's
words.
"Blending in? Since when does Hagrid blend in?" Hermione scoffed.
Harry let out a heavy sigh and looked up at the staff table. "Fine Hermione he isn't here, are
you happy now?"
Hermione nodded a bit "And did you notice…"
"Hey who is that up there?" Ron blurted out motioning to a new figure up at the staff table.
"I was just about to…" Hermione began to say before Harry cut in.
"Are you sure that's a person?" Harry said his face scrunching up in disgust.
"It is probably the new Defe…" Hermione began to sputter.

"Nice cardigan." Ron interrupted with a smirk, while Hermione gave up and buried her face
into her crossed arms on the table.
"I could care less about the cardigan. I'm pretty sure that's Jabba the Hutt right there." Harry
replied.
Dean, who sat on Harry's other side, began laughing and beating his fist on the table in an
effort to control himself. Even Hermione's back began to shake from laughter as she continued
to rest her face in her arms.
"Hey I'm just saying, you know, trying to ruin my appetite." Harry said looking to Dean and
Hermione.
"Who is Jabba the Hutt?" Ron asked in complete bewilderment.
Harry blanched at Ron, his expression now in bewilderment. "Ron, I know wizards don't
embrace muggle things, but how do you not know of the greatest trilogy in all mankind?"
Harry and Dean began to explain the epic trilogy of Star Wars to Ron during the Sorting Hat's
song and through the sorting till all was quiet and Dumbledore spoke.
"To our newcomers welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speech
making, but this is not it. Tuck in!" Dumbledore spoke in a ringing voice and was greeted with
an appreciative laugh and applause, though Harry scowled a bit.
"Food finally." Ron said dishing it on his plate in heaps.
"Agreed." Harry murmured from his side doing the same.
"Did you two even listen to the Sorting Hat's song?" Hermione asked with a scrutinous gaze.
Ron and Harry shared a glance at each other before turning to Hermione. "No."
"The hat was speaking of house unity and how we should remain united in the face of evil!"
Hermione whispered in a severe sort of way.
"Fat chance." Ron muttered with a glance at the Slytherin table.
"You know a little house unity wouldn't be such a bad idea." Hermione interjected "And Harry I
really wish you'd rethink your position on You-Know-Who. Clearly the Sorting Hat can sense
the danger."
Harry gulped down the food he had in his mouth before waving a fork in Hermione's direction.
"Let me tell you something about that hat! Hat's don't have brains Hermione and because of
this they do not have nervous systems and therefore…" Harry began to delve into a long
scientific spiel about anatomy and thought processes that lasted the entire rest of the feast
and then some.
"And therefore that hat can make no solid conclusion on anything." Harry finished with a
triumphant look as Dumbledore began to give his end of the feast speech, which virtually
ignored by the trio.
Hermione stared at Harry with her mouth agape.

"Did you understand any of that?" Ron asked Hermione.
Hermione replied with a shake of her head.
"Yeah, that's right Hermione. Don't ever try to judge me again." Harry said with a snap of
fingers.
"Hem, hem."
The trio broke away from the discussion to cast their gaze on the woman Harry had referred to
as the Hutt.
xxx
"Potter."
"Potter."
"Potter!" Cormac said giving Harry a smack to the side of the head.
"Ah… What the fuck?" Harry muttered rubbing the side of his head as he lifted his face from
the table in the Great Hall staring about groggily.
"You passed out in the middle of that fat bitches speech." Cormac muttered. "Rumor has it a
big party tonight."
"Oh… yeah." Harry said dropping his hand from his head. "Well what are we waiting for?"
"Harry wait a minute." Hermione sounded as she grabbed Harry by his robes causing him to
stagger back.
"What is it Hermione?" Harry said with a repressive grunt.
"Did you hear anything that woman said? It sounds as if the Ministry of Magic is going to
interfere at Hogwarts!" Hermione whispered to him, even though the Great Hall was virtually
empty except the small group of Gryffindors gathered awaiting Harry.
Harry pondered the news for a few moments before grinning. "Well that's good news being I
told Fudge this place needed a complete makeover. I mean honestly no computers or
anything. Seriously Hogwarts needed an upgr…"
"What?" Hermione shrieked. "You put the Ministry in Hogwarts?"
"What's the big deal Hermione? What did you expect? This place is way out of date so when
Fudge was pinning that Order of Merlin First Class on me," Harry rubbed his hand on his chest
proudly "I may have said something about how Hogwarts was way out of date with the
modern world."
"Did you listen to anything the Order said?" Hermione whispered angrily. "Though you don't
believe it You-Know-Who might be back and to have the Ministry stopping them hurts our
cause."
Harry began to shake his head in a nonchalant manner preparing a retort, but Cormac spoke
up from the exit door. "Potter we having a party or what?"
Harry gazed at Hermione a moment. "Damn right we do Mick."
"Potter!" A voice shrieked.
Harry turned slowly seeing McGonagall giving him a stiff stare and groaned.
"What?" Harry asked.
"The Headmaster wishes to see you and it is Professor to you." McGonagall replied.
Harry let out another groan. "Go on guys." Harry motioned to the group of waiting Gryffindors
as he trudged after Professor McGoagall.
xxx
"So what is this all about Professor and is this going to happen every year, getting called into
Dumbledore's office?" Harry asked grudgingly following McGonagall.
"I don't know Potter that is up to you." McGonagall replied stiffly. Harry assumed she must
have heard about his arrival to Hogwarts and rolled his eyes.
"Whatever Ice bitch." Harry muttered to himself.
"What was that Potter?" McGonagall asked coldly.
"Ah… I said Snape's a fat git." Harry answered unsure of himself.
They were both quiet as they reached the stone gargoyle that lead to Dumbledore's office.
McGonagall uttered the password, but before Harry disappeared up the staircase McGonagall
grabbed his wrist.
"Professor Snape is not really fat Harry." She said with what Harry took as a slight wink.
As the gargoyle closed Harry smiled. She didn't correct him on the git part.
End Chapter
I'm happy with reviews. That attitude towards Cormac is exactly what I wished.
Trust me people. Trust me. I really can't stress this enough because odds are you
will be pissed before the end, but it all works out… trust me. Watch out for Fleur and
Voldie… both will have moments that will make any Potter fan applause.
Next we jump a bit into book six. It is needed for the end of this story and… well
most of the next. Prologue will explain why it is needed for the next and final story
(side stories not included, at least one).
PS Also on a side note, being from the Chicago area, congratulations to the Chicago
Blackhawks making it to the Stanley Cup.
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Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Meeting and a Party
xxx
"Ok, I didn't do nothing." Harry said plopping down in what he now assumed was his usual
seat in Dumbledore's office.
"I never said you did Harry." Dumbledore said calmly as he gazed over his moon shaped
spectacles at Harry.
"I can only surmise you think you are here because of the rather nasty incident on the train…
and on your arrival to Hogwarts."
Harry replied with a simple shrug.

"Well I can assure you that the matter has been taken care of and no harm was done.
However, I brought you here for a much more important reason." Dumbledore replied with a
note of seriousness to his voice.
"Are you serious? You aren't going to give me the riot act because of that over grown git that
storms around castle preying on children?" Harry said his interest piqued.
Dumbledore sighed a bit in response.
"Harry please, this is a very serious matter and it deserves your utmost attention."
Dumbledore said as he gazed at Harry with a piercing look.
Harry gazed back, but eventually shrugged. "Alright, I'm listening. What's the big news?"
Dumbledore stared intensely at Harry for a bit, but eventually Harry motioned for him to get a
move on and with a reluctant nod he pulled out a large basin filled with a silvery liquid, that
Harry recognized as Dumbledore's Pensieve.
"Harry… I know you have said some things over this past summer that are very hurtful…"
Dumbledore said "But I do hope they were just in gist, because what I'm about to show you is
the reason Lord Voldemort attacked you Halloween night."
Harry had immediately left his relaxed composure and was now craning his neck as he stared
down at the Pensieve. He noticed Dumbledore's intense gaze a moment later and once again
relaxed into his calm position trying to hide his eagerness.
"Well… what is it?" Harry said, desperately trying to hide his enthusiasm, after another few
moments of awkward silence.
"Harry please forgive me for what I'm about to show you… or tell you. I didn't mean for it to
happen at such a young age, but your attitude towards me… and other matters have made it a
necessity." Dumbledore said with a firm nod.
Then Dumbledore gave his wand a few waves over the Pensieve and a familiar voice rang out.
xxx
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have
thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his
equal, but he will have the power that the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the
hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to
vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"
xxx
Harry listened to Dumbledore's so called prophecy and now was meeting his eyes starring
skeptically at the old man.
"I am sorry Harry, but you see now what hangs in the balance." Dumbledore finally said,
breaking the awkward silence, in a grave tone.
Harry remained silent giving Dumbledore a curious gaze with his head cocked to the side, as if
waiting for more information.
Dumbledore stared back and both remained silent till Harry seemingly exploded.
"You have to be kidding me! That is it! That is the reason I don't have parents! Seriously?"
Dumbledore, though a bit shocked at the sudden outburst nodded in response.
"What the fuc…" Harry caught himself. "I mean… You can't…" Harry sputtered struggling for
words.
"He went after me and killed my parents over this?" Harry exclaimed motioning to the
Pensieve.
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes Harry, I thought it best you kno…"
"Seriously this is it?" Harry questioned not bothering to apologize for interrupting the
Headmaster.
"Well, yes Harry." Dumbledore replied.
"That is fucking ridiculous!" Harry shouted not bothering to keep his composure as he waved
his arms frantically in the air.
"That fucking moron destroyed my life on a whim, because of what? The use of the name Dark
Lord?" Harry shouted.
"Do you know how man Dark Lords there are?" Harry questioned waving a quavering finger at
Dumbledore, but he didn't allow the Headmaster to answer as he answered his own question.
"Thousands!" Harry shouted.
"Thousands of morons refer to themselves as the Dark Lord. Darth Vader, hell all the Sith, not
to mention every damn RP gamer in existence. Oh, and let us not forget the D&D nerds!"
Harry shouted tacking them off on his fingers.
"Harry the prophecy did say born in the seventh month and he would mark him as his equal."
Dumbledore answered motioning to Harry's scar.
"So what? A scar means you are destined to fight an epic battle to the death?" Harry shouted
out.
"Like Obi Wan knew he was going to die at the hands of his former student after he brutally
chopped off his limbs and left him for dead? You can't be pulling this kind of shit on me!"
Harry shouted rising from his seat pacing the room as if trying to gather his thoughts.
After a few moments of quiet Harry spoke. "How do you know this thing is even real? I mean
who made it?" Harry questioned.
Dumbledore shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. "I am fairly sure it is authentic and as for
who made it… I'm afraid I cannot tell you… it is not proper to give up people's confidence."
Harry gave Dumbledore a peculiar stare his eyebrow quirked in question.
"Harry you did not seem to question the ability of seers or prophecy's in you third year here at
Hogwarts." Dumbledore replied to Harry's quirked eyebrow.
"That is because I never should have believed it. Should have let Sirius kill that worthless rat
Pettigrew. It would have changed everything! A picture is worth a thousand words you know
and a dead body can paint a pretty good picture!" Harry grumbled in response
"Oh, and since you seem reluctant to tell me who made this so called prophecy I don't
suppose you would do me the honor of telling me how the Voldemort came to hear it?" Harry
asked with as much sincerity he was able to muster.
"He didn't hear it. It was given to him by another means… one, which I'm afraid I am not able
to tell you about." Dumbledore answered looking as though this might not have been a good
idea.
Harry now gave Dumbledore a piercing look.
"Are we done?"
Dumbledore replied with his own piercing look, but after a few moments nodded. "Harry you
may go. Please take what you have learned to heart." Dumbledore offered in an almost
begging voice.
Harry gave Dumbledore a shrewd sneer. "I'll try." He responded.
"Oh Harry, one more thing, we have learned of the place you hold your parties, I'm afraid the
Prefects bathroom is no longer a viable option. Also please take this conversation as very
private." Dumbledore responded with a tap to the side of his nose.
Harry scowled.
xxx
Terry boot banged on the door to the Prefects Bathroom as he chugged at a bottle of fire
whiskey laughing with his friends.
They all muttered amongst themselves what a great party it would be. Then, to their horror
Severus Snape answered the door. He had scratches and bandages on his face, but was as
menacing as ever.
Boot jumped over the high railing down to the floor below, nearly breaking his legs as his
group of Ravenclaws dashed in desperation to get away. However, all were not so lucky as
Boot heard a cry of fear from above.
"Not going anywhere are you?" Snape murmured murderously. As Boot listened on to his
fellow Ravenclaw get quasi tortured by the evil git.
Snape went on lecturing only to be interrupted by a hem, hem.
xxx
Harry chugged down the rest of his beer sulking with the Cormac, the Weasley Twins, Ron,
Seamus, Dean, Neville, etc…
"This sucks, nobody is here." Harry muttered looking about the Gryffindor common room,
even though it was full of Gryffindors.
"I know another party place spoiled." Seamus replied. Sadly.
"Oh, honestly Harry won't you tell us what Dumbledore said?" Hermione pleaded ignoring the
rest of the gathered Gryffindors.
Harry suddenly shot up from his seat an evil grin on his face. He walked forward examining
the Gryffindor common room nodding and muttering to himself as the rest watched him.
Finally Harry turned.
"I got an idea."
xxx
Dont stop, make it pop

DJ, blow my speakers up
Tonight, Imma fight
Til we see the sunlight
Tick tock, on the clock
But the party dont stop
The music rang out throughout the Gryffindor common room as students from nearly every
house piled into the Gryffindor common room. After much arguing between the Gryffindors
and Harry over secrecy and passwords Harry had won out or he may have just ignored the
plea of his fellow housemates and went off and blabbed the Fat Lady's password to all his
friends in other houses, minus the Slytherins. Harry felt he owed his fellow housemates at the
very least to keep the snakes out.
Now, after the fact, everyone seemed to be enjoying Harry's somewhat reckless behavior as
the music blared and a few seventh years managed to magic up a disco type ball for a more
party like atmosphere. Alcohol was plentiful and from a few nooks and crannies puffs of smoke
could be seen. Most of the cushy armchairs and sofas were pushed to the side as dancing had
broken out in the middle of the common room and that was where Harry was busting a move
Patil twins... or maybe just dancing horribly.
"And then me and my Uncle Tiberius also went hunting for nogtails once with Rufus
Scrimgeour, he is the head of the Auror Office in case you didn't know." Cormac said to an
utterly disgruntled Hermione as she sat in one of the chairs off to the side of the room. Ron
sat on her other side looking thoroughly annoyed as Cormac rambled on.
"Whew!" Harry shouted as he came stumbling over wiping his brow free of sweat. "Why the
long face Hermione?" Harry asked as he glanced over at Cormac wondering what the hell he
had been saying to her.
"You do know we are breaking dozens of school rules?" Hermione muttered through her teeth.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, I know you better than that. Something else you are after?"
Harry asked as he swigged down the rest of his beer and glanced at Cormac. "Hey Mick. Get
me another beer."
Cormac gave Harry a glare, but stood up and wandered over to where Harry had placed a few
coolers of beer.
"So Hermione what's got your panties in a bind?" Harry asked after Cormac was gone.
"You completely ignored me when I asked what you and Dumbledore talked about! That is
what! Are you going to tell us?" Hermione asked as Ron scooted closer to hear.
Harry paused, somewhere ringing in his conscience he remembered Dumbledore saying

something about keeping their conversation quiet.
"Oh that? Yeah Dumbledore was going on about some prophecy and Dark Lords and murder.
You know what let me start from the beginning." Harry said.
Harry then went on to tell the entire tale that had occurred in Dumbledore's office and a few
more people may have joined Ron and Hermione on the couch to listen.
xxx
"So you have to kill You-Know-Who?" Seamus asked his eyes wide.
"That is what he said." A Hufflepuff said from behind Seamus.
"Bullocks to you!" Harry shouted. "I didn't say that. Some damn crazed out Miss Cleo said
that… Speaking of, which, I know heard that voice somewhere before." Harry said with a
pondering look before shrugging.
"Now clear off you lot and go and get wasted!" Harry shouted shooing off the group of
gathered students.
"Harry how can you be so calm? It might have been real?" Hermione whispered just above the
music a serious look on her face as she clutched the one drink she had been nursing all night.
"Hermione… you yourself said the whole seer, fortune telling thing was rubbish and I'm just
agreeing, but still…" Harry began to say, but stopped. He glanced around a bit and turned to
the coolers.
"Mick! Where the hell is my beer?"
A beer went flying past Harry smashing open a window that led out to the grounds. There
were a few gasps from those around, Harry just blinked. "I need another beer Mick that one
didn't make it!"
Another beer came flying and using his slightly dulled quidditch skills, Harry snatched it out of
the air.
Harry cracked open his beer sending out a spray of foam before he took a swig. "Ahh… what
were we talking about again?"
"The prophecy!" Hermione and Ron whispered.
"Oh yeah, well Dumbledore wouldn't tell me who made it or who heard it…" Harry paused for a
moment in thought "Hermione you like reading and shit right?" Harry asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded.
"Good… very good. Remember what I said about packing up the Mystery Machine Hermione?"
Harry asked now sounding as serious as he could manage as he gazed at Hermione.
Ron looked completely bewildered, but Hermione nodded.
"Well get Shaggy and the Gang back together because we got a mystery to solve."
xxx
End Chapter
Little early I know, but had to do it for the end of this story. Trust me.
Oh and a reviewer asked about other comedy type stories that I might know of.
Measure for Measure by Grover Cleveland. Think it is abandoned thought… shame.
Harry Potter and the Forced Hero by Kaeim. Though I think the author might have
went insane.
Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Less Wrong. Just started this one it is
pretty funny in a somewhat serious manner.
All can be found on my favorites list.
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Favorite Teacher
I can't believe you guys didn't tell me the dashes weren't separating the scene
breaks. Seriously tell me these things.
xxx
Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs were all having a good time at the opening of term
party. However, despite the angers of being shunted from the party, at least one Slytherin
listened to the rumors that night.
Theodore Nott had listened to all those leaving the Gryffindor common room. Many of those
leaving were intoxicated and speaking loudly, no doubt to be caught by professors or prefects.
Still Nott caught some important information in those drunken ramblings.
Nott had heard enough he dashed up to the Hogwarts owlery quickly and quietly. A storm was
brewing as lightening flashed and thunder boomed. Nott cared not as he jotted down what he
had heard and attached it to his owl's leg. Nott knew the Dark Lord, for this information,
would reward his father greatly, as long as his owl made it.
xxx
Nott Sr. wore a happy face as some of his fellow Death Eaters continually asked him what
'new' information he had come across. He did not speak; this information would make him
more beloved among all the other Death Eaters.
Nott Sr. paused just before entering the chamber that contained the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord
seemed so different from the last time he had tried to take over… he seemed less stable.
According to Snape's reports the Potter boy had assumed the Dark Lord… well… was a
complete moron and in all honestly he hadn't really seen anything to question the boys
assumption, though he never voiced this opinion, especially after the punishment Severus had
received just for hearing it.
"Well if you aren't going to tell us what you are hiding you best be going to tell the Dark Lord."
Crabbe Sr. grunted in a jealous tone.
Nott Sr. nodded with a gulp and entered the chamber.
xxx
"Your son reported this?" Voldemort questioned in a low hiss.
"Yes my Lord." Nott Sr. spoke from his bowed position. The storm that had raged earlier was
now breaking and dawn was on the verge of breaking.
Voldemort regarded Nott Sr. for a few moments then stood up and paced a bit.
"He claims that Harry Potter told everyone the prophecy that I so desperately seek on a
whim? He claims that all the students of Hogwarts all know it now?" Voldemort spoke his voice
cold and calculating.
"Yes my Lord." Nott Sr. replied with a nod of his head. "He may not have heard it in person,
but rumors run rampant at the school."
Voldemort's face twisted into a vision of rage combined with humor. "Yes they do. Rumor is
the problem Nott!" Voldemort hissed.
"You realize what this word is?" Voldemort practically shouted as he pulled out his wand and
wordlessly raised Nott Sr. into the air, shoving the piece of parchment into his face.
"Uh…" Nott Sr. gasped. "It says Harry Potter is the chosen one?" Nott Sr. answered not
knowing what part of the letter he was supposed to read.
"No further down." Voldemort shouted back with rage.
"Um…" Nott Sr. licked his lips nervously. "Son of Chuck Norris?"
Voldemort blanched and looked at the note again. "Not that part, but it is just as ridiculous."
Voldemort said shoving the note back into Nott's face demanding him to read on.
"It says Potter may be a… Jedi?" Nott Sr. replied not even knowing what a Jedi was.
"That's right!" Voldemort hissed releasing Nott Sr. and letting him fall to the ground.
"This must be a clever ruse. Seriously look at this part… neither can live, while the other
survives? How does that make any sense? If it were true then one of us would be dead
already!" Voldemort hissed in rage.
"I'm sorry my Lord." Nott Sr. replied regaining his bowing position.
Voldemort paced a bit mumbling to himself. "If this is truly the prophecy why does it only refer
to me as Dark Lord and not by name? Plenty of D and D nerd call themselves Dark Lord! It
could mean anyone!"
"Yes my Lord." Nott Sr. replied. "I'm sorry for disturbing you at this late hour." Technically the
hour was early as the sun began to rise breaking apart the cloud cover.
"Don't be." Voldemort hissed. "This is still valuable information. Clearly, Potter and
Dumbledore are trying to lure us into a trap with disinformation. I just…" Voldemort hissed in
a frantic rage.
"I just can't get Potter out of my mind! Get out Potter!" Voldemort shouted in a violent rage
banging his head with his fist, not unlike Dobby did when under control by the Malfoys.
Nott Sr. gave a bow, not knowing what to do and dashed for the exit.
xxx
"What did the Dark Lord say? We heard shouting?" Goyle Sr. asked.
Nott Sr. shook his head.
"I'm telling you guys right now… the Dark Lord is a few marbles short of a Gobstone set."
xxx
Harry bumped into a wall as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He shook himself
out of his funk.
"I think you are still pissed mate." Ron laughed.
"Shut up Ron… I can't help it…. I feel so confused." Harry grumbled rubbing his head, right
where his scar was.
Harry really couldn't help it, he didn't know why he felt like his mind was tearing every which
way, but he knew one thing is his ragged state. He wasn't high.
"Ron I'll be right back. Mick c'mon I gotta show you something." Harry called out.
Harry and Cormac went off and smoked a bowl making Harry feel much better. Cormac didn't
fare to well and had to go lie down. Harry went back to the Great Hall shaking his head
wishing he had Cedric back for he could handle his high.
xxx
"Look at today!" groaned Ron to his twin brothers as Harry approached the Gryffindor table in
the Great Hall.
"Fair point, little bro." Fred commented.
"Worst Monday I've ever seen." George also commented from Ron's other side.
Harry ignored all comments of 'hellos' as he piled pancakes on his plate and began to munch.
He gazed at his schedule, identical to Ron's. History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and
Defense against the Dark Arts.
Harry shrugged.
"Well it seems the old codger wants me to suffer after last nights exploits." Harry commented
throwing a glare up at the Headmaster who, as it seemed, was abruptly ignoring him.
xxx
"What is this Mr. Potter?" Snape questioned his face still covered in bandages.
Harry could barely contain a snort. "It's a laptop, much more efficient at taking notes you
know. I mean I got multiple battery packs and everything." Harry replied coolly.
Snape glared daggers at him. "Potter you will lose that muggle device or you will get out of
my classroom this instant." Snape hissed sourly in response.
Snape stalked up toward the front of the class and then turned in an abrupt fashion preparing
to badger Harry more, but he had vanished.
"Potter?" Snape hissed.
Hermione gulped nervously. "I think he took your other alternative professor."
xxx
As soon as Harry left Potions he almost regretted it. There stood Cho Chang a few corridors
down. Harry couldn't help, but groan "Oh God."
"Harry you are out of class early? Did something go wrong?" Cho asked as Harry marched on
by.
"Cho no offense or anything, but I think you might be insane." Harry commented.
Cho laughed in a girlish manner and began to question Harry why he left class early and about
their relationship, and a whole array of questions that just thoroughly convinced him the girl
was bat-shit crazy.
Harry was relieved when he finally reached the Great Hall and bumped into the Twins who had
a free period and were discussing their future outside of Hogwarts. Harry took interest since
they were basically discussing his financial investment.
"Well we have premise in Diagon Alley." George said. "And we should be all set any time. Fred
and I are just using this time for market research."
Fred didn't say anything as he continued to glance across the table.
"Well this is good… very good." Harry said happy with the progress the Twins had made.
"So when can I see a return on my investment?" Harry questioned as George began to delve
into the financial aspect of their business, but was soon interrupted by Fred.
"What the hell is she doing here?" Fred asked pointing a finger at Cho Chang who sat across
from Harry smiling.
"Oh her? Don't worry about it, complete nutter she is." Harry replied pointing a finger in Cho's
direction.
Cho giggled. "Harry you always were so funny."
"See what I mean?" Harry muttered with a sigh.
The Twins glanced at each other and grabbed Harry by either shoulder. "Good luck mate."
Harry scowled. "It isn't my fault! She is completely mental!" Harry exclaimed.
Cho giggled again.
"Harry, you know I love you."
xxx
After once again Rick Rollin Divination Harry made his way to Defense against the Dark Arts,
his first real meeting with the Hutt.
When he entered the classroom he blanched. The room was covered in cats and kittens. It
reminded his of his hideous neighbor Miss Figg. He sat down disgruntled and snapped at
anyone who spoke to him, even Hermione, who was rambling on about how she had not found
anything in the library about the 'so called prophecy' made about himself and Voldemort.
In fact Hermione's words had reached him, but it only added to his foul mood. He was tired,
hung over, losing his high, and slightly fuzzy headed from confusion. Harry resorted to his one
source of recourse, he laid his head down on his book as the Hutt entered and fell into a doze.
xxx
Course aims:
Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
xxx
Hermione's hand remained raised all through Umbridge's opening spiel to the class and even
now remained up despite the protest of a Ravenclaw near her whose hand was a deep red.
Finally after almost the whole class was only noticing her instead of doing their required
reading Umbridge spoke.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked.
"Not about the chapter, no." Hermione replied. "I had a query about your course aims."
Hermione commented.
"Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you would read through them
carefully." Umbridge replied in a sweet and sickening voice.
"There is nothing there about using defensive spells?" Hermione commented. The rest of the
class stirred a bit and noticed there wasn't anything on the board about using defensive spells.
"Well I see no need to use defensive spells in my classroom Miss Granger." Umbridge replied.
Almost the whole time frame for Defense against the Dark Arts was used as an argument
between Umbridge and Hermione about using Defensive magic. Harry had abruptly woken
from his sleep and caught onto the gist of the argument and then with wonder shot his hand
up in the air.
Finally near the end of the hour Umbridge took notice of Harry, who was waving his hand in
front of Hermione's face.
"Yes Mr. Potter. You have a question? By the way congratulations at getting awarded Order of
Merlin… First Class." Umbridge said in a high girlish tone filled with praise.
"Well… Seriously we aren't going to be practicing defensive spells?" Harry questioned.
Umbridge puffed herself out. She never expected to be defending herself against Fudge's boy
wonder, Harry Potter. He should know better Umbridge thought.
"Well as long as you know the theory enough, the Ministry deems it good enough for you to
pass your OWLS…" Umbridge began, but Harry interrupted.
"That is awesome!" Harry exclaimed to the chagrin of his classmates, mainly Hermione.
"What are you talking about Harry?" "Hermione whispered to Harry.
Harry gave Hermione a glance. "It means we have to do less than half the course work for this
class." Harry replied with a smile.
xxx
"That woman is insufferable." Hermione said tensely.
"I know how you feel." The Ravenclaw from earlier said. "Look what she did to me." He
muttered showing his scared fist from his late night detention due to Umbridge.
Hermione shrieked at the scar marks. "Horrible women. Harry you have to do something. She
likes you."
Harry gave a firm nod. "I'll handle this. An owl shall be sent out immediately."
xxx
Technically three owls were sent out that night. The first arrived to none other than the
Minister of Magic Fudge.
Fudge opened the neat white envelope and pulled out the piece of paper… not parchment,
which pretty much told him it was from Harry Potter.
Hey Minister, Harry here. Well not here literally, but writing to you. Anyway I must
congratulate you on your choice for the Defense against the Dark Arts position. She… it is a
she right? Is an excellent teacher though I do have some concerns? She has yet to put forth
any of the ideas I discussed with you over the summer. You know computers, vending
machines, copiers, printers, the works!
Harry
PS Also could you also tell her not to torture children? Thanks.
"Oh Harry, always the jokester with muggle inventions and now joking about Delores torturing
children." Fudge said to himself with a laugh wiping away a tear of joy from his eye.
The second owl arrived to Harry himself.
"What the fuck is this?" Harry asked as he tore open the wax-sealed piece of parchment. He
scanned the letter and snorted.
"Who is it from?" Hermione asked from one of the cushy chairs just outside the smoke circle
formed by one of the windows in the Gryffindor common room.
"Ron, Fred, George, Ginny… I don't think your brother has a whole lot of friends if he is writing
to me." Harry said handing the letter to the four of them. They wrestled over the letter a bit
before Fred finally won out.
"Its from Percy to Harry." Fred said as they all gave Harry a glance. Harry shrugged and
turned up the Kottonmouth Kings a bit, not wishing to hear the outrage that was about to
come.
"It says that Harry should cut relations with us till we come around to their line of thinking!"
Fred scoffed and continued on.
"That Harry should report any conduct that goes against… against the…" Fred couldn't read
anymore as he began to gag a bit. Ginny meanwhile snatched up the letter.
"Goes against the delightful woman Delores Umbridge or the Ministry." Ginny said her mouth
wide in utter disbelief.
"Oh, so it is a woman?" Harry chimed in taking a hit from the Power of Greyskull and passing
it on to Dean who was chortling.
Hermione now had the letter. "It says to expect an announcement in the Dailey Prophet about
something big happening here at Hogwarts." Hermione said nervousness in her voice.
"Harry did you…" Hermione began.
"I didn't do nothing!" Harry said cutting her off.
Hermione gave Harry a glare. "I was going to say did you do anything about… you know
Umbridge and her punishment style?"
"Oh… yeah I wrote to Fudge." Harry replied.
"Fat lot of good that will do." George replied, but any more criticisms were cut off as Ron got
up abruptly and snatched the letter out of Hermione's hand.
"He – is the – world's – biggest – git!" Ron hissed tearing apart Percy's letter and tossing it
into the common room's fireplace.
After a few awkward moments of silence Harry spoke.
"Ron I think you need a hit."
The last owl didn't arrive for many hours and once it did Peeves had to open it and smooth it
out so Nearly Headless Nick could read it to a lifeless Cedric.
"Oh would you look at that Mr. Diggory its from Harry." Nick said with a glint of happiness and
seeing no reaction from Cedric he paused. "Well, I suppose you don't see that."
"Well the letter says there is a new teacher in the Defense against the Dark Arts post and
that… it is doing a great job. Hardly any coursework at all and that it likes to torture children."
Nick said a bit confused as he skimmed the letter.
"it gave me candy? Anyway get better soon this Mick guy can't handle his high." Nick once
again shook his head in confusion.
"I must say I really don't know what Harry is talking about at all. Oh wait a PS… Peeves kick
Chaz in the head and wake him up already." Nick read out loud.
"Well Peeves did you hear that?" Nick called out to the poltergeist.
"Peevsie is busy." Peeves shouted back.
"You aren't watching that horrid thing again are you?" Nick questioned floating over to Peeves.
If he had waited a moment longer he would have noticed Cedric's fingers twitching.
xxx
End Chapter
See I read my reviews… sometimes. I kid I try to read them all. True Magical
Methods does seem like the author is just being condescending, but I'll still finish
reading through it.
This probably won't be as long as its predecessor and I'll even make an attempt to
type out quidditch. Probably two more chapters… maybe one and then we are at the
holiday break sequence… that might take some time just an FYI. Once again trust
me.
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Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Triangle of Violence
xxx
"High Inquisitor?" Hermione said reading through the Dailey Prophet.
"What are you going on about Hermione?" Ron said from her side.
Harry groaned taking a seat across from them. "I think I'm going to kill Angelina, all these
practices at quidditch. If I didn't know better I would think this is punishment from Wood and
you know… that whole thing…" Harry's voice trailed off into silence not wishing to mention that
rather nasty incident.
"Don't know what you are complaining about, I was awful." Ron mumbled gloomily. Ron had
won a spot on the quidditch team pretty much because all the other viable options had been
eliminated and because Mrs. Weasley had got him a new broom for becoming a prefect.
Harry thought on that a moment. "Yeah, you were. Thanks buddy." Harry said giving Ron a
slap on the back for making him feel better about quidditch practice.
Ron scowled, but pressed on. "So is it true Cormac was going to try for keeper as well?" Ron
asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, but Fred, George, and I bet him to eat a pound of doxy eggs and can
you believe it the moron did it! Been in the hospital wing for days. Good muscle to have
around, but not all that bright." Harry finished in a rather sour tone.
"What was the bet?" Hermione asked from Harry's other side.
Harry froze up. The bet had been that Cormac forget about Hermione and go after another girl
or eat the doxy eggs.
"Uh… So the Hutt was made High Inquisitor? What does that entail?" Harry asked quickly
trying to change the subject.
Luckily Harry's bait worked as Hermione grasped onto Harry's words.
"The ugly toad is going to be inspecting classes and even getting authority from the Ministry
to make new rules, or decrees as the Prophet puts it, for Hogwarts." Hermione replied sourly
shaking the newspaper before her.
"Did you talk to your big shot friend Fudge about her torturing students?" Hermione whispered
in an almost evil manner as her eyes narrowed on Harry.
"Of course!" Harry retorted, as he tried to remember what he exactly wrote to Fudge.
"Well whatever you said isn't working. She still isn't teaching us defensive magic and as far as
rumors go she is still using that horrible quill of hers in detention. Why don't you have the foul
Skeeter woman report it Harry?" Hermione asked in a quick succession that Harry couldn't
help, but wonder if she were a relative of the guy who did Micro-Machine commercials.
In response Harry shrugged.
Hermione glared at him. "Well if you aren't going to do anything than I have an idea of my
own and I'll be organizing it this Hogsmeade weekend."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione I know what you are getting at. Voldemort isn't back. I
stopped him. Remember Order of Merlin and all that?"
"That was for stopping him you know. And like I said prophecies are rubbish, don't believe in
any of that nonsense." Harry said answering his own question.
"And what if you are wrong?" Hermione questioned sternly.
"Then I'll just tell him the truth… if I knew it." Harry muttered.
"What don't you know?" Hermione asked in her skeptical tone as if Harry knew something he
wasn't sharing.
"Well I'm waiting for you to tell me! I didn't get Shaggy and the Gang back together for
nothing! I don't know what the hell is going on! All I know is that I really don't have a beef
with Riddle. He has a beef with me and I just want him to leave me the fuck alone!" Harry
answered harshly.
Hermione quieted with a rather guilty expression on her face. She hadn't meant to back Harry
into a corner, but just wanted him to accept that the You-Know-Who existed. Luckily Ron
interjected on her behalf.
"Mate… I wasn't going to mention anything, but sometimes early in the morning before you…
well you know, get high." Ron muttered quietly. "You start mumbling some weird things.
Things like, just a little bit further, and get out of my head Potter." Ron said looking glum as
well as worried.
"Don't know what you are talking about Ron." Harry replied truly not having any idea of what
Ron was talking about.
"Now if you two are done grilling me" Harry whispered harshly "then I've got a phone call to
make." Harry then after a stone cold glance at the pair got up and whipped out his cell phone.
"Hey babe, Hogsmeade this weekend…" Harry had said into his phone before he exited the
Great Hall.
"Ron you didn't tell me Harry had been muttering things in his sleep!" Hermione whispered, as
soon as Harry was out of range.
"You never asked." Ron replied with a guilty expression on his face.
"Well it was important! You-Know-Who might be penetrating his mind and despite the fact
that Harry leaked the prophecy there has been nothing reported about it. Due to Fudge I
expect… and the fact that the rumor mill tore it up so bad no one knows what it means, I
mean Dean going on about Jedi." Hermione answered venomously and then added a roll of her
eyes at the thought Harry could be a Jedi.
"Either way, it doesn't matter. If You-Know-Who is back then we need to be prepared and that
means training. Remember what I talked about with you earlier?" Hermione questioned.
"Yeah, yeah." Grumbled Ron with nod.
"Good. If we can at least get Harry to join then others are bound to show up. I mean after
hearing the prophecy it certainly seems like he is the…" Hermione began, but was interrupted.
"Have you seen Harry?"
Ron and Hermione both looked and there stood Cho Chang looking slightly depressed. "We
were supposed to be planning out trip to Hogsmeade, but I haven't been able to find him."
Cho muttered softly.
"Err… no." Hermione offered as an answer not sure of what to say.
"Harry is off making arrangements with his real girlfriend and not some nutter." Ron replied
bluntly.
"What?" Cho replied her eyes welling up with tears. "That just isn't possible you liar!" Cho
shrieked pulling out her wand. She held it on Ron for a moment before giving a slight gurgling
non-literal response as she fled out of the Great Hall in tears.
Ron and Hermione watched after Cho as she fled
"Complete nutter." Ron muttered.
"Ron has anyone ever told you, that you have the emotional range of a teaspoon." Hermione
replied.
xxx
"What the hell is this place you dragged me to Hermione?" Harry asked looking up at the sign
outside the pub that read the Hog's Head, and had a picture of an actual hog's head.
"Is this a slaughter house or something? Does this have anything to do with spew?" Harry
asked quickly. "Because I'm not in."
"Relax Harry it isn't anything like that… sort of." Hermione added on quietly near the end as
they entered the pub.
xxx
"Oh hey Harry how are you?" Zacharius Smith muttered upon seeing Harry at the rather large
gathering of students in the Hog's Head.
"Uh… fine." Harry replied looking at the boy with confusion then with a mild nod looked to
Hermione "I do believe we are all here, so what is this about?"
Hermione shifted uncomfortably for a few moments and then went on a rant about Professor
Umbridge, the Ministry, Fudge, and even Harry on one or two occasions. Basically the gist of
Hermione's speech was that they were all blinded to the fact that Voldemort was back and
needed to be prepared to face what was out 'there.'
The whole group of students sat still and motionless mouths agape as they stared at
Hermione. She had even used the Dark Lords name. Harry was looking rather horrified.
"Are you saying we need to assassinate the best teacher Hogwarts has ever seen?" Harry
questioned.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I'm just saying we need to learn, in order to protect
ourselves." Hermione muttered to Harry.
"Hermione I will not be a part of this terrorist organization." Harry answered firmly.
Hermione looked scorned and was about to shout back a retort, but Harry cut her off.
"I will not sit here and let you destroy the best teacher that Hogwarts has ever seen! Look at
these grades on my homework!" Harry replied harshly waving pieces of paper in front of
Hermione's face and tossing them down on the table before all the Hogwarts students.
"All O's!" Harry said as Hermione scanned through Harry's homework.
"These are just copies!" Hermione shrieked.
"Well that is what homework is Hermione. Just copying what you heard or read in class and
putting it down on paper." Ron offered.
"No Ron. These are literally just copies!" Hermione shrieked as she flaunted pages of
Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard. That is when the rest noticed that Harry's
homework was not actually written, but photocopied as if on a copier machine.
"Hey they earned an O didn't they?" Harry muttered in question.
"I only ever got E and I worked my arse off!" Hermione shouted losing control of her temper.
"This one got an O and it is just a copy of the index page!"
"Well obviously it contained the right answer!" Harry retorted in defiance.
Hermione's face was blood red as she glared Hermione and clenched her fist. "Harry… if I
could I would deduct whatever house points we have and give you detention for the rest of the
year, but I know you wouldn't bother going." Hermione said shaking with rage.
Harry was now standing in front of the defiant Hermione. "You think just because you and Ron
are prefects you can order me around?" Harry spat.
"That isn't what I said at all." Hermione retorted.
"Fine!" Harry spat again gathering his photocopied homework, which he had done in his trunk
using his multiuse printer. "I'll just leave you and your little terrorist organization."
Harry, his homework gathered, began to storm to the exit, but paused as he noticed the
bartender. He looked awfully familiar in a way. Harry shrugged went up to the bartender and
flipped a galleon onto the counter. Fleur was waiting for him and he wasn't about to hold her
up because of this farce by Hermione.
"Shot of Fire Whiskey."
The bartender looked at the galleon. "You aren't of age boy."
"Keep the change." Harry spat as he heard Cho mumble something about crazy boyfriends in
the background. The bartender shrugged and got him a shot.
Harry downed his shot and left to meet Fleur.
As far as Harry could recall best anger sex he could ever remember.
xxx
"Babe." Harry muttered rolling off Fleur, sweat rolling down his body "I swear I'll show them
all the true meaning of life by the end of year."
Fleur raised an eyebrow. "If you keep performing like that. I won't doubt you." She pulled
Harry into a close kiss.
It was a long while before they broke away from each other, but eventually Harry and Fleur
broke away.
"So what is the meaning of life Harry?" Fleur giggled out as he rested on her chest.
Harry pondered it for a moment in deep thought.
"Live to party as much as possible." Harry responded.
Fleur giggled a bit "Why is that?"
"…Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it."
xxx
End Chapter
I thought a very valuable lesson. One I even learned. Seriously why hate when you
could be partying?
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Waking Up
XxX
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or
Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Dolores Jane Umbridge.
XxX
The decree had come just days after the Hogsmeade trip and of course sent the students into
a widespread panic as they rushed to see if Gobstones, Potions, and other clubs would still be
acceptable to the High Inquisitor.
It also led to a very heated argument between Harry and Hermione. One argument, which Ron
was desperately trying to remain neutral as he sat in a chair while Harry and Hermione
shouted at one another.
"Oh please Hermione! Like I'd turn you in." Harry scoffed in disbelief. "You want to form some
evil organization like Cobra to dismantle a professor, go ahead, fight the power."
"You said she is your favorite teacher and she clearly is showing favoritism towards you. Who
else could get away with turning in photocopied homework?" Hermione retorted her eyes
narrowed in a furious glare as her face reddened.
"So? In case you hadn't noticed I've been fighting this whole place and the way it is run with
my very being. It is horribly out of date and I'm simply trying to bring it up to code." Harry
shouted back his own temper rising.
"You of all people should be on my side being muggleborn! Instead you go off and worship
Dumbledore as a God and leave the real geniuses in the dust." Harry said with an angry scowl
on his face.
"I don't even know what you are talking about Harry!" Hermione responded sharply. "Who
gets left behind in the dust? Hermione said with a flustered look.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You know I used to think you were smart Hermione, but the smartest
magical person I've ever meet is by far Ron's dad." Harry said making a gesture towards Ron,
who now was looking up at Harry with his jaw hanging open.
Whispers broke out among the students who had been watching the row. Apparently the idea
that Arthur Weasley being the smartest wizard currently in the world humored some and
others just looked on in shock like Ron.
Hermione was one of the shocked ones. She stood with her mouth slightly open for a bit in
awe before being able to speak again.
"What, what does that have to do with anything? How is Ron's dad smarter than Dumbledore,
he is with us unlike you." Hermione hissed.
"Unbelievable." Harry muttered grabbing at his hair if he was going to yank it out. "It isn't
about sides in a debate. So what if Voldie is back or he isn't? It doesn't change the fact that
great wizards are out there like Mr. Weasley trying to bring the magical world out of the Dark
Ages into the Age of Enlightenment. Seriously, do you know of any other wizard who tinkers
with more muggle stuff than he does only to make it better? I mean I have a spell that allows
me to work electronics here at Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley made a fucking car that could fly and
be invisible right here on Hogwarts grounds."
The whispers ceased and arose again shortly after Harry spoke. The murmurs now were
suddenly of those who thought this idea was an interesting new perspective to the uses of
magic.
Hermione on the other hand was struggling to find a response. So she did the only thing she
could muster at the moment being on the spot of watching eyes.
"You still turned us in!" And with that being said Hermione stormed off ignoring his shouts of
protest.
Once it was clear that Hermione wasn't going to acknowledge Harry anymore he sat down
next to Ron fuming. Ron sat still in awestruck wonder.
"You really think that way mate?" Ron asked his face still in bewilderment.
Harry didn't respond he was rubbing his annoying scar furiously.

"I need to get high." Harry muttered in response as he stood up preparing to make his way to
his trunk.
"Potter!" A voice rang out.
Harry turned to see Angelina storming up to him blabbering something about quidditch and
the decree.
"Angelina hold that thought and lets go get some folks to have a little pow-wow in private."
Harry said with a halting hand raised into the air.
XxX
Harry took a long drag and passed the blunt, he currently held, off to Alicia. The whole
Gryffindor quidditch team was present along with Ron, in Harry's trunk. The room was filled
with hazy smoke as they smoked.
"Now what were you squawking about Angelina?" Harry asked after letting a long puff of
smoke escape him.
"I was saying that decree Umbridge made… includes quidditch to." Angelina replied a bit
maliciously.
Harry noticed as well. Apparently Angelina and by the looks of his quidditch mates, they all
believed in Hermione's theory of him betraying their confidence. Well Harry couldn't have that.
He needed his allies.
"Not a problem. As soon as we are done here I shall go to this Hutt and negotiate our
reinstatement to play."
"Good." Angelina replied a note of skepticism in her voice.
Harry quirked an eyebrow "You doubt me? Or you doubt my story about it not being me who
ratted you out?"
"Well… it seems…" George began putting on a thoughtful look.
"Logical." Fred finished also putting on a thoughtful look.
"Well I'll tell you all something right now?" Harry said in a menacing manner.
"Cause I'll give you the fucking answer, all right? Look at me. Look at me. I'm not the fucking
rat. Okay? I'm not the fucking rat."
It was silent for a few moments as the blunt was passed around.
"Well said." Fred commented nudging to one side of Harry.
"Applause." George added giving a light golf clap nudging to Harry's other side.
"You believe him like that?" Katie said snapping her fingers to show the quickness of their
decision.
"Well…" George began.
"I'm their financial backer so of course they wouldn't want to offend me." Harry offered up as
an excuse to the Twins decision.
"Not only that!" Fred said with a shake of his head.
"You do have a nice variety of alcohol, the likes of which, Hogwarts has never seen."
"You also share your weed."
"Lets not forget you are a complete riot to be around."
"And I suppose the money doesn't hurt." The Twins said in unison with a gleeful look on their
faces. "I mean who could pass up on that?"
There almost seemed a sudden urgency to be around Harry as everyone began mumbling his
or her sorrows for not believing him. All except Ron who seemed to be lost in his own little
stoned world.
"Ron!" Harry said waving a hand in front of Ron's face.
"Oh yeah and for Dad to." Ron said nudging closer.
The Twins shared a look. "What about Dad?"
"Harry said Dad is the greatest wizard of the age… and I never really thought of it before, until
now, and well, he really is."
A few confused looks went around the group, but Harry clasped a hand on Ron's shoulder.
"You have taken your first steps young grasshopper."
XxX
"So of course you can see the need for Gryffindor to have a quidditch team?" Harry questioned
the one whom he referred to as the Hutt.
Umbridge gazed over her desk with a neat, yet slightly evil smile as she got up from her desk.
"Of course I shall let Gryffindor's team keep playing Mr. Potter." Umbridge replied in her
shrilling tone.
"Still I can't help, but fear for your future being stuck on a team of rogues." Umbridge said. "I
mean, we all know what those Weasley's think of you, and what most of your own house
thinks of you." Umbridge said her voice growing in menace as each word was uttered.
"They think you are a nasty little liar Mr. Potter, but I do not." Umbridge said crossing over
behind him resting her hands on his shoulders.
"And of course they are wrong young Harry. They must be shown the truth." Umbridge
muttered giving Harry's shoulders a rather uncomfortable massage.
Umbridge bent down lower next to Harry's ear. "You are right Harry. He-who-must-not-be-
named is not back. Just as you said, the Ministry is right and this is just Dumbledore stirring
up trouble to gain control. And I may ask for a favor in the future for the kind reward I'm
about to bestow you."
Harry shifted rather uncomfortably for a second.
"Um… Are you trying to seduce me?"
XxX
Miles away…
"Oh dear please Mr. Diggory stop that infernal racket." Nearly Headless Nick said.
"But your faith it gives me strength. Strength to believe." Cedric shouted as he skipped out of
the room.
"Peeves! Peeves! Help!" Nick shouted floating after Cedric.
"There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach." Peeves shouted hovering away after Cedric.
Nick shook his head in disgust. "Oh dear… Harry is going to kill us… luck would have it that I'm
already dead."
They were murmurs from the room over.
"Did you hear that? What was that? Is there a spooky ghost here? May the power of Christ
compel you."
XxX
End Chapter
Well there you have it. Now the question is what will happen. Trust me. Seriously
trust me you know I wouldn't do that to you… maybe you should sleep on it. I have
a strong feeling Fleur will be everyone's favorite character when Fleur's Big Mistake
comes out.
Couldn't resist… Here's to you Mrs. Robinson. Classic.
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A Roaring Lion Hat…
XxX
Time passed at Hogwarts and eventually things turned into the normal flow at the school.
Cormac returned from the hospital wing full of vigor and energy, though he seemed somewhat
reluctant to trust any bets made by Harry or the Twins.
Malfoy was once again attempting to taunt and goad Harry, but he fell silent every time
because McLaggen was around and Malfoy apparently did not want a repeat of train ride on
the Hogwarts Express.
Halloween came and went and Harry couldn't even bring himself to go into costume. It just
didn't feel right to him… Goose and Maverick just reminded him of Cedric.
Still life went on at the school. Harry scraped by with sub par grades, except of course in
Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he seemed to be excelling at. Of course Umbridge kept
him close in her very exclusive list of favorite students.
Hermione, Ron, and often many other students disappeared for hours at a time. All except Cho
Chang who seemed to follow Harry around like a lost puppy constantly questioning him about
their relationship status. Harry would just sigh and call her a nutter, and she would respond
with a laugh and tell him to quit joking.
Harry tried to concern himself with his friends, but between school, Angelina's constant
quidditch practices, and his need to play video games he could barely find the time to
reconcile with Hermione or anyone else that was put out by his current attitude and there
were plenty that way.
Though, Hermione was not friendly with Harry at the moment she did keep up with her
research on the 'so called prophecy' made about Harry and had come up empty handed from
all the reading she had done. Apparently the Mystery Machine had sprung a flat.
Even Neville was giving Harry the cold shoulder these days. Mumbling about how the "Prophet
was going down hill." Harry didn't concern himself with such drivel. As far as he was
concerned if Rita was reporting it, then his publicist clearly had to be in the right… right?
Worse thing of all to Harry was the fact that Fudge had not done one thing to update the
Hogwarts to the modern age. Harry was now beginning to question his confidence in the man.
Instead of results all Harry received were more decrees giving Umbridge more power. More
power to the Hutt… the decrees were backing everyone into a corner, except Harry who
seemed to be able to go in and out of Umbridge's system… or the Ministry's.
This gave Harry one important detail. You can do a hell of a lot more damage in the system
than outside of it.
Till then Harry would have to do with…
"Wake up Harry!" Ginny shouted about to smack him hard in the face, but Harry caught her
arm as he laid on the sofa, in his trunk, a controller in his free hand.
"I'm not dead and I'm pretty tired of you smacking the piss out of me Ginny." Harry said
releasing Ginny's arm, which she pulled toward herself and rubbed in a self-conscience
manner.
Ginny's face brightened red, but soon turned a deep sort of crimson. "Well if you are alive
then why the hell aren't you up in the Great Hall or the Quidditch pitch?"
"What are you going on about Ginny?" Harry muttered dropping the controller from his lap to
floor in an uncaring manner.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because Angelina is about to freak out! Today is the first Quidditch
match versus Slytherin!"
Harry's fogged brain tried to work through what was just said…
"Oh fuck! I forgot!" Harry said dashing over to the boy's showers to attempt to prepare.
"One detail and you couldn't manage to work it out." Ginny muttered to herself with a shake
of her head.
"I heard that Ginevra! Now bring me my bowl!"
Ginny rolled her eyes as the use of her real name and held a towel out into the boy's showers,
which Harry grabbed and dried off. He came out towel wrapped around his waist, hair still wet,
and a joint hanging from his mouth.
Ginny just stared at Harry, her jaw slightly open as Harry went to his trunk to put on his
quidditch uniform. He turned towards Ginny "Do you mind I'm trying to get dressed?" Harry
muttered.
Ginny quickly turned to face the wall spluttering her face reddening as she listened to Harry
changing almost desperately wishing to turn around and watch.
"Ginny why are you wearing a quidditch uniform by the way?" Harry asked.
Ginny nervously turned around and let out a breath of relief to see Harry had finished
dressing, she didn't know what she would do if Harry were standing naked in front of her
naked. Probably ravage him. Ginny thought before she spoke. "Well… Angelina doubted if you
would make it to quidditch so…" Ginny trailed off muttering about being too high or drunk.
"No trust." Harry muttered shaking his head.
"No trust?" Ginny questioned waving a finger at the joint dangling from Harry's lips.
Harry pulled the joints from his lips stared at it a few moments and shrugged.
"Smoke two joints in the morning and at night… why? It makes me feel alright."
XxX
"Harry we really need to get to the pitch. The teams are forming already!" Ginny pleaded.
"Sorry Gin. Needs say to munch right now." Harry replied back with a glazed look in his eyes.
"You are hopeless Harry." Ginny answered back with a hint of intolerance in her voice.
"Harry I do hope you win today. Then after we could you know…" Cho giggled from Harry's
other side.
Harry and Ginny both looked at Cho with an awkward stare and shook their heads.
"Completely insane."
"Barking mad she is."
Harry and Ginny joked all the way to Great Hall about Cho's insane behavior, even though she
followed well with in hearing distance of them. Harry thought if funny until he ran into one of
the most obscene things he had ever seen.
A loud roar echoed throughout the hall as soon as Harry stepped into it. The pure shock
knocked Harry over.
"What the fuck?" Harry cried as Luna Lovegood peered down at him with a hat that let out
roars and looked like a lion, sat upon her had.
"It's good isn't it." Luna said rather than question.
"Blimey, you are more nutty than she is." Harry said with a nod towards Cho who was giggling
happily.
"I'll be supporting Gryffindor in case you wondered." Luna responded completely ignoring
Harry's comment.
"You are fucking barmy… you know that?" Harry asked to Luna's dazzling gaze. Luna
continued to gaze at Harry for unusually long time. Eventually Harry got up and grabbed a
couple of pieces of toast and began marching out of the Great Hall.
"Ah, Good luck today Mr. Potter."
Harry stopped abruptly as Umbridge cut him off in a scarf filled with the colors of Gryffindor,
but both were soon brought back to reality with another roar from Luna's hat. Umbridge
marched off glaring at the hat and Harry turned "You still here?"
"Harry… I don't suppose you know where I could get anymore of that stuff we smoked on the
way in?" Luna asked.
Harry was about to say 'hell no' until he thought back to the end result of Luna getting high
and unable to stop laughing. Snape only a week ago had the last bandage removed.
"Maybe." Harry answered.
XxX
"Harry are sure you are alright to play?" Angelina said sharply as her team went to the field.
"Because if you aren't Ginny said she could play seeker?" Angelina said giving a wary glance
at Harry.
Harry craned his neck scowling at Ginny whom was at the team exit to the pitch.
"I'm fine!" Harry retorted.
"I'm just saying Ginny is ready if you need… a rest." Angelina muttered trailing off.
And then the captains were called to shake hands and the so-called epic quidditch match was
to begin. Montague, the Slytherin captain, just about crushed Angelina's hand though she
showed no sign of pain when she shook his. Harry on the other hand cringed and made a
mental note of that.
Next thing Harry recalled was Madam Hooch blowing the whistle and his broom was up in the
air.
XxX
The match wasn't going good for Gryffindor that was for sure. The Slytherins weren't exactly
playing well. It was the fact that Ron wasn't all that good of a keeper. It didn't help much that
the Slytherins were singing a completely retarded song that Ron actually seemed to care
about. Harry shook his head in disgust.
Harry on the other hand was focused. It was one of those rare occurrences from when you
smoke pot. You block everything out. You only become focused on the goal, the objective, and
right now Harry was focused. His eyes zigged and zagged throughout the pitch only focused
on the snitch.
Malfoy's taunts from Harry's side were a blur; Malfoy was targeting him rather than the snitch.
Harry could barely hear Lee Jordan's commentary of the match. Last thing he heard was that
the Slytherin team was up by forty points. Harry was just focused… Must Find The Snitch!
Harry turned completely focused on finding the snitch, so focused he didn't notice the black
object approaching and …
WHAP!
XxX
Harry awakened pressed to the ground, he heard Lee Jordan's voice over the announcements
muttering out the score and how, Ginny Weasley had replaced him, Harry, as seeker.
Lee began going on about some story about the Twins getting banished from quidditch, when
Harry finally came to full awareness. What the hell? Angelina didn't even bother to call time
out for me? Harry thought as he felt a disturbance from underneath him.
Harry rolled over, just as Lee announced that Slytherin was ahead of Gryffindor by 130 to 90.
Harry then held up the rather crushed looking gold ball in his hand.
"Hey the match is over!" Harry shouted.
"I got the damn snitch right here!" Harry shouted waving the battered snitch in the air.
The crowd silenced for a few moments in complete disbelief. There was Harry out cold for half
the match and he had fallen on the golden snitch.
All Harry could think was that Wood was more compassionate than Angelina, at least he called
timeout when someone got hurt. 'Murderous quidditch bastards!' Harry thought.
The Cheers erupted from the stands.
Harry scowled.
XxX
Madam Pomfrey was out examining Harry muttering about concussions, while Angelina and
Montague were arguing over the match with Madam Hooch.
"He fell on the snitch! He didn't catch it!" Montague shouted.
"They shouldn't be awarded the points they earned well after Harry caught the snitch!"
Angelina fired back.
"I think you need to stay in the hospital wing tonight." Madam Pomfrey muttered to Harry.
"Not a chance in hell!" Harry retorted. "I refuse to be in the hospital wing during anymore of
my time here at this so-called school!" Harry shouted back harshly waving Madam Pomfrey
away.
The quidditch match was complete hysteria. Students were arguing about the outcome as well
as players.
In the end Angelina came marching over in a huff grunting something about the end results
being the end results. No points were taken away or awarded. The end score would remain the
same.
Harry didn't care at the moment his glare was focused on Angelina.
"Not even a time out to check if I was alright?" Harry questioned harshly.
Angelina ignored Harry's harshness and shrugged. "I didn't see you get hit by a bludger, I just
assumed you were drunk or high and fell."
Harry shot Angelina a nasty glare. "I was not drunk Angelina."
Angelina cringed slightly. She took note that Harry didn't bother to refute the claims of being
high. Still in the back of her brain it registered somehow, someway the stoned twerp still won
the damn match.
XxX
The end of the first term of Hogwarts was finally here. All the students seemed joyful about it
except Harry. He was seen as a spy by Hermione and her little terrorist group, known as the
DA, Harry learned that from the rumor mill at Hogwarts after seeping through the usual BS or
he may have just asked Ron.
Harry also was no where near learning anything more about this 'prophecy' Dumbledore
claimed to exist, and now he sat aboard a carriage leading to Hogsmeade in which, he was
about to meet Fleur and have Christmas with her parents.
The whole situation made him feel rather ill. Still he did rather miss Fleur and he had been
planning with Cormac on a way of talking Fleur out of her family holiday to go and spend the
holiday somewhere warm and pleasant. After all Harry was with Fleur who could apparate, and
the recent Ministry approved Cormac whom could now apparate as well.
"Harry?" Cormac muttered.
"What's up Mick?" Harry asked glancing Cormac's way.
"Well I was wondering if you made any progress with Granger? She has been giving me
nothing, but the cold shoulder." Cormac said in a rather stern manner.
Harry cringed inwardly. He had made about zero effort and zero progress on anything
Hermione related.
"Uh… not really Mick. Maybe you should try a new tactic you know? Like… oh would you look
at that were here!" Harry exclaimed as their carriage rolled up to the station in Hogsmeade.
As soon as Harry stepped out of his carriage he heard a shriek of joy. The next thing he knew
he was embracing Fleur in his arms. "I missed you so much Harry!" Fleur said grabbing and
clawing at him, all the while giving him pecks all over his neck and face.
Other students glared as they went by muttering about how Potter could have ended up with
someone so hot. Then shook their heads as they remembered the Boy-Who-Lived and threw
parties… and did damn near everything insanely as possible.
"Is it so much to ask that I enjoy that kind of embracement?" Cormac whispered into Harry's
ear.
"Pipe down Mick! You lose your place in this affair. Now…" Harry said refocusing his attention
on Fleur. "How are you babe? Look fantastic as ever!"
Fleur gave him a laughing smile in response. "Do you have everything? Apparation point is
over there…" Fleur said waving over to a place a few feet away. "We can be at my parents in
moments! Got the whole week off at Gringotts and I told my…"
"Shhhh." Harry said pressing his fingers to Fleur's lips. "Babe… I was thinking, maybe rather
than visiting parents, we could…"
Harry was cut off as a voice spluttered.
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry turned to see who was interrupting his suave attempt to trick Fleur. His eyes widened as
he saw Nearly Headless Nick floating toward him.
"Nick! What the hell are you doing here? You are supposed to be looking after Chaz!" Harry
shouted.
Nick blinked a couple of times "I've been back for a week. You didn't respond to me at all
before now."
Harry quirked his lips in question "Are you sure?"
"Yes." Nick muttered.
Harry looked back at Cormac who was nodded as well.
"Oops." Harry said with a shrug. "Well, you got my full attention now Nick. What's up?"
"Harry! Mr. Diggory has awakened from his lost slumber! Though I must warn…"
"What! Chaz is up and about! Why didn't you say so!" Harry shouted. "Babe! Mick! We are
going to the States! Agreed?"
Fleur looked a bit confused, but she knew the situation with Cedric and knew it meant a lot to
Harry and nodded her head firmly. Cormac looked a bit sullen, but nodded his head muttering
something about it being worth it.
"Where to Nick? Same spot as usual?" Harry said with a look of glee as thought Christmas had
came a few days early.
"Well… err… Broadway, but I must warn you Harry…" Nick began.
"Broadway? What the hell? Ah well… It doesn't matter… uh anyone been to Broadway?" Harry
asked peering over to Fleur and Cormac. Fleur nodded while Cormac just looked sullen and
depressed.
"To Broadway then!" Harry shouted and in a few moments the group of Cormac, Fleur, and
Harry vanished.
Nick sighed.
"Oh dear."
XxX
End Chapter
Trust me. Thanks to all you readers! I was probably going to tell you something
important here, but I have no idea what I was going to say.
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Fleur's Big Mistake
XxX
"Babe, you just aren't thinking fourth dimensionally." Harry exclaimed once again.
Apparently Fleur had a connection left in Hogwarts and had been listening to the goings on of
the school. She had been badgering Harry about his alliance with Umbridge and his lack of
faith in his friends since they arrived in New York. Harry knew it was most likely, a
conversation she had been planning to discuss over break, but since they had heard about
Cedric's reawakening it seemed she decided to break her distaste in his choice early.
"Harry, I'm just saying I heard things and you shouldn't be so harsh on your friends and you
should be learning more as well. Your exams are coming up… not that they are like the exams
we had in Beauxbatons, which made more sense…" Fleur began rambling on about her school
did things better than Hogwarts and how the system at Hogwarts made no sense.
"Ok! I get it babe. Calm down. Now where are you hearing this rubbish anyway?" Harry said
interrupting Fleur as they walked streets of New York heading for Broadway. They would have
been here earlier if it weren't for McLaggen. Who…
"Hey watch where you are going fucking dumpty!" Cormac shouted as a person on the street
bumped into him.
The man shot him a disgusted look. "Fuck you buddy! I'll beat your fucking ass!"
"Oh! You think you can beat my arse?" Cormac retorted rolling up his sleeves.
"I'll knock you fucking block off!" Cormac shouted.
"Christ." Harry muttered grabbing Cormac by the arm and dragging him away why the New
Yorker flashed a rude gesture. "Mick. When the hell are you going to learn these Yanks are
nothing, but a bunch of cowboys?"
Cormac steamed for a moment then after composing himself somewhat followed albeit a bit
reluctantly. Harry had noticed his frustration lately and was sure it was because of his own
lack of follow through with Hermione, but…
"So back to the conversation at hand. Who told you all this rubbish about me, Hermione?"
Harry questioned as he shot Fleur a glance.
Fleur didn't respond at once, instead she marched on her head high in defiance.
"What? You aren't going to tell me?" Harry said scathingly. "Seriously babe, I'm going to find
out anyway. You may as well just tell me. I mean don't make me get Dobby on this or even
worse, get Ministry officials… speaking of, which we aren't breaking any laws by being here
are we?" Harry said with a glance around as thought American Ministry officials would swoop
down on them at any moment.
Fleur rolled her eyes.
"Fine! It is Bill Weasley who told me."
Harry stopped abruptly. Cormac bumped into him as Fleur marched on still facing forward.
Harry tried to comprehend what Fleur had just told him then rushed back towards her side.
"I thought you said you weren't talking to that douche bag!" shouted Harry and getting a few
annoyed looks from some of the locals.
Fleur ran a hand through her silvery blond hair waving it in a defiant manner. "It's not like I'm
interested in him. I'm just interested in hearing what you are up to."
Harry was looking like a scandalized schoolboy, his mouth agape as he trotted next to Fleur.
His face seemed to redden.
"I just miss you and wanted to know what you were up to." Fleur said trying to calm Harry
before he seemingly would explode.
"That fucking twit Weasley!" Harry shouted his fist clenched.
"Did you even hear me?" Fleur said in a pleading manner from Harry's side.
"I heard you, but that doesn't matter! It means that stupid git Ron is passing information to
that moron brother of his!" Harry said clenching his fist.
Now Fleur was glaring at Harry feeling completely scandalized. "You don't care about me at
all? You just care about who is passing information about you!" Fleur exclaimed her arms
stretched widely in anger.
"I didn't say that!" Harry shouted back, but suddenly his vision wandered elsewhere. Harry
seemed frozen his face contorted in confusion as he stood on the brightened streets of
Broadway.
"I said I did it because I miss you!" Fleur shouted again trying to regain Harry's attention.
Harry continued to ignore Fleur he brushed past her; Fleur gave a grunt of frustration. Then
she noticed Cormac's eyes wide looking in the direction Harry was looking. She turned and
gasped reaching a hand to her mouth.
There was a picture of Cedric stuck in a poster case outside of one of theaters. Cedric's smiling
face gleaming.
Harry's words rang out.
"What the fuck?"
XxX
"Wow. I didn't think Diggory had a voice like that." Cormac muttered as the crowd applauded
the end of the Broadway show.
It had been quite a task to even get into the show. The ticket booth operator had been
reluctant to let the trio in since the show had already started. The booth operator had seemed
to suspect it as fake. Fleur had tossed down some Euros in which the operator had responded
he wasn't interested in monopoly money. At that point Fleur had lost her temper and
confounded the operator who had finally let them in… Harry took back his gold piece as well.
"He was quite good don't you think?" Fleur asked a smile on her face as she turned to give
Harry a look.
Harry's face was contorted, mixed into a dozen different shades of emotion. "I… He…" Harry
struggled for words; he just couldn't seem to find the right thing to say.
"Ok." Harry paused. "His voice was like, like a combination of Fergie and Jesus, but seriously
what the fuck is doing up there?" Harry said amongst the muttering crowd a finger pointed at
the stage.
"Why is Chaz dancing around on stage like a fairy in this God Forsaken place when he is
supposed to back at Hogwarts with me?" Harry said his voice rising ignoring the muttering
crowd who threw him annoyed glances.
Harry looked to Cormac who merely shrugged and then to Fleur, who looked sympathetic, but
offered now answer. Harry gave up and began shoving his way through the exiting throng of
people towards backstage.
"Where are you going?" Fleur shouted desperately pushing her way through the crowd after
Harry.
"To get some answers!" Harry responded.
XxX
"How was the show tonight Peeves?" Cedric questioned the poltergeist as he floated above.
"Peevies's enjoyed it very much." Peeves responded as he swooped down tinkering with the
muggle items in Cedric's changing room.
"Well I thought I was a little off key at the time when…" Cedric didn't finish as the door burst
open with a crash.
"What the fuck are you doing out there Chaz?" Harry roared storming unannounced into the
dressing room.
"Harry?"
"Dancing and prancing around like a sprite. A trickery sprite! And you. You!" Harry shouted
pointedly at Peeves. "What the fuck did you do to him?"
"Relax Harry." Cedric said making his way to Harry giving him a big hug that caught Harry
completely off guard. Harry just stood in stunned silence.
"I have you to thank for everything Harry. I mean without you I never would have found my
calling." Cedric said finally releasing Harry. "And Peeves of course, been such a help."
Harry seemed rooted to the spot, not blinking as he just stared up at Cedric. Luckily the odd
stare down didn't last long as Cormac and Fleur appeared in the dressing the room a moment
later.
"Oh Fleur and… I don't believe I know you that well?" Cedric said moving towards Fleur and
Cormac.
"McLaggen. Cormac McLaggen Harry's new muscle." Cormac said with a slight smirk expecting
to inflict a pang of jealously on Diggory.
Cedric simply smiled and nodded. "I was hoping you were doing well at Hogwarts without me
Harry." Cedric responded with a nod to Harry and Cormac.
Harry seemingly snapped out of his funk then just glared at Cedric. "Care to explain why you
aren't back there? I didn't send you off to the best experts in the world for nothing? What the
hell are you doing here?"
Cedric snorted. "Best experts?"
After a chuckle more to himself than anyone else Cedric continued. "Well I just kept hearing
Peeves singing and just so much singing … and of course I couldn't do it in my… less than
active state, but it hit me. I wanted to dance and sing and just be, be, be a sensation. Now
look at me!" Cedric exclaimed.
Harry looked from Cedric to Peeves in complete confusion. "Peeves what the hell have you
been teaching him? Worthless fucking ghost hunters!" Harry finished more to himself than
anyone present.
Peeves let out a cackle "nothing Harry hasn't been instructing me to do."
"What the hell do you mean Peeves?" Harry asked his temper rising.
"The movies of course… Peevies watched them and became a good poltergeist." Peeve's said
with a cackle, his finger pointed to a television set up in the corner.
Harry made his way to the TV set and picked up the copy of the 'Poltergeist' and as he opened
he gasped in horror.
The room remained silent as Harry stood on in quiet wonder. "What is it?" Cormac questioned.
"You!" Harry shouted as he turned his finger pointed directly at Fleur.
"You did this to him! You killed! He's dead to me now!" Harry shouted in rage.
Fleur backed away from the raged Harry her hands out in defense. "I don't know what you
mean?" Fleur said completely in confusion.
"I told you that movie was evil and now Chaz is dead!" Harry shouted pulling out the copy of
'High School Musical' and whipping across the room to Fleur's feet.
"You see the destruction you have caused!" Harry shouted just as the DVD landed at Fleur's
feet.
Fleur shook her head. "I didn't know! Harry please!" Fleur responded to no avail.
"You know Harry I'm still alive." Cedric muttered to the side of the argument.
"You… You…" Harry shouted jabbing a finger towards Fleur then Cedric and then just aimlessly
around the room as his rage grew.
"I can't take this anymore. Mick get me the hell out of this hell hole!" Harry shouted as he
walked over to Cormac who was positioned by the door.
Fleur rushed to him "Harry I didn't mean it. Please I'll fix it! I promise."
"You've already done enough damage don't you think?" Harry retorted with a snoty pull of his
head away from her.
"You don't mean that? … Did you Harry?" Fleur questioned her arm outstretched towards
Harry.
"You killed my best friend." Harry responded coldly. "Get me out of here Mick." Harry finished
grabbing on to Cormac's arm.
"I'm still alive!" Cedric chimed in just before Harry and Cormac apparated away.
XxX
Harry fell flat on his face as he and Cormac appeared just out of reach of Hogwarts grounds.
"Fuck! I hate magical travel so much!" Harry said giving a kick to the ground.
"Not that bad when you are talented as me." Cormac offered up as a response.
"Shut the fuck up." Harry retorted as he clambered off the ground and stormed off to the
castle.
"You do realize it is Christmas break don't you? Nobody is here… well not many of them."
Cormac called out to Harry's back, Harry ignored him.
XxX
Harry stormed into the empty Gryffindor common room swearing up a storm. "Fucking bitch!
Stupid dumb ass. What the fuck!" He was only paused on his tyrant when someone spoke.
"Harry? Are you ok?"
Harry paused and turned very slowly as he stood just out of reach of the roaring Gryffindor
fire.
"I'm… I'm…. no I'm not ok!"
XxX
"Fleur please stop crying. We are so happy together." Cedric said trying to comfort Fleur who
was down on her knees, hands to her face, bawling.
"Well… I'm just glad I got a hold of such a great guy. He would never harm me or do me
anything to hurt me! We are in love, irrevocably." The new girl in the room sounded as she
pulled Cedric away.
Fleur pulled her hands away from her tear drawn face to look at the new comer with disgust
as she gave Cedric a peck on the cheek.
"I don't think you need to associate with people like that Cedric. After all I don't believe that
Harry person is worth dying for." She said much to Fleur's chagrin.
"What do you mean Bella?" Cedric questioned.

"I just mean, I'm willing to give up all my friends and life to be with you." Bella responded in a
serious manner.
"Really?" Cedric responded with a nervous giggle.
"Yes and you better be willing to too!" Bella said grabbing a tight grip of Cedric's arm.
"Of course I do!" Cedric shrieked in response as his face turned red.
"Good! Because I don't want to end up like this poor sap of a girl with no friends, lover, or
potential and just be on my own!" Bella said with a nod to Fleur who was still in her crying
position staring up in disbelief at this behavior.
"Bella I really don't think that is appropriate." Cedric muttered.
"Shhh…." Bella whispered. "Don't think. Leave that to me… I'll make everything…"
"Look out!"
XxX
"Real mature Fleur!" Cedric shouted as Fleur darted out of the room leaving Bella lying on the
floor with a black eye.
"It's ok baby. I'm here for you now." Cedric said cradling Bella touching a cold ice pack to
Bella's blackened eye.
"I love you so much Cedric. " Bella cooed as Cedric dabbed at her eye.
"I just want to let you know that I'd abandon my whole life for you." Bella said.
Cedric chuckled in a joking manner, but quieted at once when he saw she was not laughing,
but completely serious.
"Um… ok." Cedric offered.
Bella pushed the ice packet away and kissed Cedric. "Take me Cedric!"
Cedric didn't paused at first as he deeply kissed her back, but then his brain kicked in…
"What did you say your dad does?"
"Chief of police."
Cedric's eyebrow twitched.
"… How old are you again?"
XxX
Fleur stormed out of the Broadway studio-wiping tears away from her face. She couldn't
comprehend what had just happened. All she knew is that she had just leveled a psychotic
bitch and Harry had just broken up with her.
She couldn't concentrate and as she dashed away she bumped into someone. The woman had
aging gray and silver blond hair and was dressed in very high-class clothes.
"Do watch where you are going!" The older woman said with mild disgust, but paused as she
perused Fleur.
The woman looked Fleur up and down for a brief moment.
"Dear, what is your profession again?"
XxX
End Chapter
Been awhile, but hey SC2 came out. Fucking epic game. Expect changes… maybe.
No crossover between twilight and hp, just a cameo and maybe another, but no
crossover there. C'mon you know you loved it when Fleur gave Bella a black eye.
Another cameo too. Anyone figure it out?
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sastath
Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
The Power of the Darkside
Scene is Harry after arriving back at Hogwarts from his unpleasant trip. More
probably be added on, but for now just a taste.
XxX
"I just can't believe he's gone!"
"Abandoned you in your time of need didn't he?" A slightly slick icky voice chimed in as they
talked about Cedric.
"… he did!"
"Harry, Harry, Harry, surely these must be confusing times for you?" She responded in a
girlish voice with a slight smile. She had him right where she wanted him.
"Well I suppose so." Harry responded with an awkward glance.
"You see Mr. Potter you foolishly hold on to hope for the life you once had, and have been
taught that you have some greater purpose." She responded giving out a high, almost
cackling laugh as she slowly paced in front of the Gryffindor fire, while Harry laid on one of the
cushy sofas.
"This greater life is a lie, but fear not, all is not lost… I can give you that life Mr. Potter." She
said in a sickly sweet voice extended a hand towards Harry.
Harry gazed at the hand uncertain.
"You really aren't trying to seduce me? I mean, I wouldn't blame you, you know." Harry
chimed in motioning to himself.
"No! For the last time I'm not trying to seduce you Mr. Potter!" Umbridge spat.
"I'm offering you an invitation into a… well a team I'm beginning to form… and I want you to
head it."
Harry gazed on at the hand offered to him. "Does it require a lot of work? Cause that isn't
really my thing."
"Most of the work will be up to me. I want you…" Umbridge was almost giggling with glee at
how well this was working out.
"I want you as more of a figure head. I already have a few select students in mind for this
who will be part of our little operation." Umbridge muttered with a sickly sweet toady smile.
"So I'll just be expected to give the… troops a few words of grace and stuff like that?" Harry
replied with a quizzical look.
"Exactly." Umbridge replied with a girlish grin.
"Then we have an accord." Harry said taking her hand and giving it a shake.
They both grinned as they shook hands.
"You won't regret this Harry. You become more great than you can possibly imagine."
Umbridge muttered through her lying teeth.
Harry only thought…
She really must be insane… who in their right mind would trust me?
XxX
Short I know, but still trying to work out bugs on where I want this to go. Poor Chaz
sucked into that Mary Sue's clutches. And Fleur… I had something planned for that,
not sure if I remember where I was going with it. So may be cancelled out.
Fergie and Jesus. LOL Stepbrothers. And no one got the 4th dimensionally. Back to
the Future. I didn't read all the reviews though.
I can't find my outline to where I wanted to go with this. So just winging it. Still SC2
and HOI2 are taking up a lot of my time. I'll still try to fit in updates though I
promise…
PS That is like a Luke Skywalker promise by the way… You know he promised to
come back and by the time he came back Yoda was on his deathbed. Don't worry I'll
try to better than that :) See that a damn emote.
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Published: 03-10-10 - id:5807151
Update
This story is on hiatus.
XxX
No its not! I kid, I kid.
I'm going to be going back and maybe smoothing out some of the rough edges. Like
I said I was struggling.
For some reason I am having cravings for writing it again… probably the fact that I
suck so much at SC2.
Either way upcoming week probably see some changes to the last two chapters and
then following a nice bunch of updates. Sorry not this weekend, I got business to
take care of. Legal business! Bunch of savages, I know what you were thinking.
Just thought I'd let you readers know that I'm going to once again be writing some
more. Although no idea where it is going to go (to many ideas make me do
something, something). So if you have a particular idea I'm open to it because I
often tend to read reviews and pms, but as usual it must be completely insane
because I mean… that is Harry's style in this type of story.
Also I don't mind people offering constructive criticism, but seriously don't bash or
you will be blocked. I know a dick move, but I can't stress enough the story is
supposed to be completely insane and just meant for laughs. You know, just form a
very unlikely and shady plot and go with it.
I cry when those nasty reviews come in see! . Sad face.
Love you guys and gals and hope to hear from you in the coming weeks. As always
this will probably go down when my next chapter goes up.
And seriously they better do a damned good job with HP & the Deathly Hallows or
I'm going to shoot myself!
PS. I saw many a review worrying about Harry and Fleur… It might change, but
probably not. You kill me AAAHHHH! I joke, but seriously gotta give them some
freedom before committing… *cough* got plenty of ideas for Harry. Fleur anyone?
PS 2 Warning if you have political ideologies… well best you stop here.
Seriously wtf is with shark finning. These guys have been around since the
dinosaurs, dino juice, gave us oil… zing, but seriously knock it off the oceans don't
belong to us, we aren't sea creatures if anyone didn't notice. It is like raping your
own mother. The oceans gave birth to us and now we see fit to fuck it up? Messed up
IMO.
And yeah I had a nostalgic moment to anyone who watched Shark Week.
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Books » Harry Potter » Harry Potter : Hunter
Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
Rated: M - English - Adventure - Harry P. & Fleur D. - Reviews: 179 - Updated: 06-22-
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Harry Potter – Hunter
By : Andor Swiftblade
Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to the beautiful blonde lady famously known as J K
Rowling. No monetary gain is being made from this story. Any non-Canon characters belong to
me. Certain creative terms which have been used probably belong to some of my brilliant
fellow fan fiction authors. (I don't really know to whom, so please forgive me.)
Summary : After the DoM Mayhem, Harry decides that he is tired of the Dursleys and figures
that he wants to take a unique summer job. Follow him as in his bid for freedom, he has the
adventure of a lifetime. Post OotP. Probably AU. Might include crossovers.
You are free to choose, but the choices that you make today will determine your
tomorrow.
* * * * * Chapter 1 * * * * *
*|* Hunter *|*
On a particularly hot and sunny day in the summer holidays, everyone who could avoid being
outside in the sweltering heat were taking refuge in their houses and had their air conditioning
units switched on at full power to keep themselves relatively cool. Those who did not have
such provisions had to make do with their ceiling fans and table fans. One such individual was
lying on his bed reading his book in the particularly boring neighborhood of Privet Drive.
Inside the smallest bedroom of Number Four Privet Drive, a nearly-sixteen year old Harry
Potter was lying down on his old bed with a book that he was currently reading, which he had
'borrowed' from the Hogwarts Library for 'a bit of light reading during the holidays', as
Hermione would say. Said book was on a topic that interested him, and he wanted to be
thinking about something positive for once in his life. The book was titled "A Future In The
Wizarding World" and was written by a man called William Patstick, who was a special
consultant in a private firm for job application. Every possible job opportunity was mentioned
inside the book in alphabetical order and the book also provided contact information for every
job listed.
Harry was reading the book and was trying to find a good job that particularly suited him and
gave him some amount of freedom and anonymity. After his last year at Hogwarts and the
treatment he was given there, especially from the Minister and his pet toad, Harry had decided
that he no longer wanted to be an Auror for the Ministry and continue to put his life at risk for
the idiots of the Wizarding World. Professional Quidditch was an option that he had considered
to be very tempting; that was until he read in the book that according to the standard contract
drawn for every player, a Professional was obliged to sign autographs and that he had to do
some showmanship before and after a match, on the pitch as well as outside the pitch. After
reading that, any thought of playing Professional Quidditch flew out of his mind faster than a
Firebolt.
After reading about most of the respectable jobs mentioned in the book, Harry realized that
even if he decided to work as a Clerk in Shoe Shop, he would still be recognized and swarmed
with idiots. So, after finally coming to the conclusion that none of these jobs suited him, Harry
decided to pursue the section about the less reputable jobs.
When Harry read about one particular job mentioned in the book, he was a bit shocked. He
didn't know that there were Hunters in the Wizarding World. He just thought that those
existed only in the Muggle world and in movies and books. His interest was piqued as he
wondered as to what magical Hunters did and he decided to read the section about Hunters.
The Hunters
Many of you young readers will be surprised to know, but it is true that Hunters exist. Who
else do you think procures all the potentially dangerous potions ingredients from creatures
that have been classified by the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation & Control of
Magical Creatures as "Very dangerous"?
Gathering potentially dangerous ingredients is not the only job for Hunters. Anyone can hire a
Hunter with a magically binding contract that can be obtained from the Hunters' Guild.
¤ Basic Hunters' Guild Laws :-
» Anyone using the title of "Hunter" without a Hunter's License can be considered guilty of
falsely using the name of an organization and the judgment of the individual's fate will be
deferred to the Hunters' Guild. Even the Ministry cannot interfere with this particular law.
» A Hunter is free from Ministry prosecution as the Hunters' Guild is an independent

organization not answerable to any nation; even the International Confederation of Wizards
(ICW) cannot arrest an official member of the Hunters' Guild without proper reason and a
Guild-approved arresy warrent.
» A Hunter's true identity is secret even form the Guild, and every hunter has their own
personal codename that they work by.
¤ How to become a Hunter :-
» The only information available for the qualification for a rank in the Hunters' Guild is that
one has to write a letter to the Guild but not sign it with the name. Nothing else is known
about how the Guild selects new Hunters from the applying candidates.
¤ Note :- The Hunter profession is only for people with proper skill. As a dangerous and
(many times) life-threatening job, the amount of money earned will also be much higher than
any normal profession.
¤ Warning :- The Hunter profession is not suited for everyone. The mortality rate for poorly
trained Hunters is very high. This means that the senior members of the Hunters Guild are
very good at what they do as they have persevered so long in such life-threatening conditions.
As Harry read the information provided in the book, there were myriad expressions on his
face. First there was wariness, then happiness, again wariness and slowly the expression
turned into a calculating one. He had always wanted to be free from the discrimination of the
incompetent Ministry and its bigoted ways. This was an opportunity to be free of the Ministry
for once and for all. But if he did so, he would have to risk his life.
'What to do? What to do . . . ?' Harry thought as he put the book on the nearly-broken table in
his room. He continued to quietly pace around the room as he thought about what he would
do. 'The job may be dangerous, but when is my life not so? I have to be on the lookout for
when Voldemort or his sycophants attack anyway, so maybe this job will be safer than my life.
It can also be considered as training for finally killing Voldemort. Dumbledore and the Order
are just happy to lock me here and play their foolish games. How does that old coot think that
I will kill Voldemort without any training? By hugging him to death?' Harry snorted quietly. 'At
least the training will help me to dispose off the Moronic Munchers of ole Tommy Boy and at
least weaken the Dork Lord so that someone can finally kill the idiot.'
'Then there is the matter of money. Though Mum and Dad left quite a bit in the Trust Vault,
who known how much more I'd need in the future? I don't want to work for the Ministry so I'll
probably have to find some other job free from Ministry control. Maybe I'll use business as a
cover job while I do the Hunter work. Hermione said that the Potters were an old family so I
might have some investments. Maybe I should ask the Goblins to show me if I've got some
other Vaults in the bank. But I think this job is probably the best, as it gets me freedom and
money as well.'
'I need to make plans. I can't rush half-cocked into things now. I have to carefully think things
through before carrying through them. I'll follow the Sorting Hat's advice and use my Slytherin
side for once in my life. I may save my life someday and it might also save others.'
As his train of thoughts shifted towards Sirius, Harry realized that he did not feel all that sad
about his Godfather's death. He knew that Sirius was somewhat damaged from his
imprisonment in Azkaban, even if he would not admit it out loud to anyone. The exposure to
the horrible Dementors – the guards of the Azkaban prison – over the course of nearly twelve
years had left its mark on Sirius. And then the entire last year, he was cooped up in that
shabby old house with nothing to do and his only companion being the foul-mouthed portrait
of his long deceased mother, a wretched old House Elf that had served the Black Family and
went by the name of Kreacher, and some members of the Order that visited the Headquarters
to submit their reports. From what he knew in general about Sirius and the Marauders was
that they were extremely free-willed and fun loving, and he know that being ordered to stay
indoors against their wishes would not sit well with them. And then there was the fact that his
Godfather was now in a better place. (Right now he was probably in Heaven playing pranks on
everybody along with his best friend James Potter while being scolded by the short-tempered
Lily Potter.)
As his thoughts once again turned to the answer his mind derived as a solution for quite a lot
of problems he would probably face some time in the near future, a phrase suddenly floated to
the front of Harry's mind : Fortune sides with those who dare.
And that was when Harry remembered that he was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors were brave
and courageous. He would tackle all the difficulties that lay in path with his Slytherin mind and
Gryffindor heart. He decided that he would come out at the top one way or the other. He
might have to maim or kill a few Death Munchers, but if that was all that was required to keep
them from harming others, then he would gladly pay the cost, even if it damaged his soul.
He, Harry James Potter, would become a Hunter.
AN : There is a poll for possible pairings on my profile page! Please vote!
If you enjoyed my story, then please review. Thank you.
May your sword stay sharp!
Review this Chapter

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Plays . TV
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
We learn more from our mistakes than from our successes.
The errors of the past are the wisdom of the future.
Take an interest in the future - that is where you are going to spend the rest of your
life.
* * * * * Chapter 2 * * * * *
*|* A Thoughtful Evening *|*
That evening, Harry was eating dinner with his cousin Dudley and his Aunt Petunia. His Uncle
Vernon Dursley was out on a business and Harry was not informed of when he would be back.
Today they were having all of Dudley's favorite food, all of which were full of grease. This was
his demand after his diet regimen was over. (The school nurses tried for one full year to
reduce Dudley's body size, and only succeed in converting a little body fat into muscles. After
that, even they had to give up.)
Dudley was, as usual, stuffing his face full of all the food he could eat at one time and his
piggy little eyes were concentrated on the TV, which was a few feet away from the dining
table. (The TV was in the sitting room a few days ago, but Dudley started whining about not
being able to watch his favorite shows - which were aired during their usual dinner time - so
the TV was shifted from its previous place to its current home.)
Harry was surprised that Dudley could multi-task; he just didn't seem to have enough brain
power for that. (Harry always privately thought that Dudley was a 'pig-in-a-wig that was
taught to walk on its hind legs' when they were children, but now that could not be applicable.
Dudley now qualified as a baby blue whale with all that fat he had in his body. Dudley could be
compared with Malfoy Junior's gorilla-like bodyguards who went by the name of Crabbe and
Goyle, who shared a few brain cells between the two of them.) But then again, eating and
watching the TV were both Dudley's favorite hobbies, so he would have tried very hard in
order to carry out both the activities at the same time.
Aunt Petunia was sitting in what she thought was a poised and elegant manner (to Harry she
just looked constipated), and was surveying her household for any sign of dust or dirt. For a
clean freak like his Aunt, even a small mote of dust was considered as a personal insult to her
cleaning skill and had to be destroyed. (Harry often wondered if he should just invite
Voldemort and his Death Munchers one day for dinner, cover them with a lot of dirt and see
what his Aunt Petunia would do to them for desecrating her house. They would be completely
annihilated.)
Harry quickly and quietly finished his portion of the dinner (which was not much) so that he
could return to his room and proceed with detailing his future plans. Just as he was about to
get up to wash his hands and take his leave, the lights in the entire neighborhood went off and
darkness descended upon the house.
Suddenly, Dudley let out a wail of anguish so loud that Harry thought he was being tortured.
Aunt Petunia was shuffling around the room searching for God knows what in the darkness.
"Mum! The TV and lights! I can't see the food! Do something, Mum! I wanna see!" Dudley
wailed loudly.
"Hush, Duddykins! (Harry snorted to himself) I think that some power cables probably melted
due to the head. I'm trying to find some candles to light," Petunia said in her horribly
annoying screeching voice, trying to calm her precious Dudders.
Harry heard the sound of a matchstick being lit and suddenly the room was bathed in the
yellow glow of candle light as Petunia made a noise of triumph.
"This will do till the power comes back. I told Vernon to buy that new emergency lights, but
no! 'There are no power cuts here, Petunia dear,' he says. He should have been here now so I
could give him a good talking to about not listening to his wife's advice," Petunia muttered to
herself, and continued doing so until Dudley spoke again.
"Mum! At least start the fan! I'm feeling very hot! Dudley wailed again from his seat at the
table. He was sweating buckets because of the sudden lack of cool air supply, which made the
entire room a bit warm, but he was fat, and fat people and warm places was not a good
combination. To him, it was as if he was sitting in an oven.
"The candles will blow out!" Petunia exclaimed in reply to her sweating son's demand.
Harry had to try very hard to hold in his amusement at his relatives' stupidity and he quietly
wondered to himself if they could get any more stupid.
"Aunt Petunia?" Harry called out softly. In response, Petunia shrieked loudly and nearly
jumped through the roof. Harry had to stop himself from wincing at the unpleasant noise.
"What are you doing, idiotic child? Keep quiet! Are you trying to scare us?" Petunia hissed in
anger.
"I just wanted to ask if I can return to my room," Harry said, more than a bit annoyed.
"Go!" she commanded imperiously, as if she was ordering her troops to the battlefield. Harry
rolled his eyes and decided to quickly leave the table before he was caught in any more of this
stupidity.
As he was walking up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step just above the cupboard,
Harry wondered whether stupidity was genetic or if it was infectious. To him both the cases
seemed plausible. Living with Vernon and Dudley Dursley showed him that it was a genetic
problem. Both were baby blue whales, both had similar mannerism and both had nearly
identical personalities and looks that if not for the age difference, they could be mistaken for
brothers. Both were a living proof that stupidity was a genetic problem.
But Harry had to wonder about his Aunt Petunia Dursley. She was the elder sister of Lily Potter
nee Evans, who was said to be an extremely intelligent and bright student, sorted into
Gryffindor House, who was the top of her class, and was also a Prefect and Head Girl during
her seven years of study at Hogwarts. After Hogwarts, she was recognized as a Charms
Mistress by many. She was also a capable dueler and was able to hold herself against Lord
Voldemort - who was arguably one of the best dueler and an extremely knowledgeable and
cunning person - not once, but three times. That had to count for something.
Looking at Petunia Dursley, one had to wonder if the woman was indeed the sister of Lily
Potter. Petunia never showed any signs of what could be remotely considered as intelligence,
except for her cleaning and household skills as well as her talent for spying on her neighbors
for juicy gossip. She was just a common woman who had an occasional sharp-tongue that she
never put to good use. It seemed to him that she did have brains, she just didn't use it. This
just proved his point that stupidity was also infectious, because she was just wasting her
useful talent in mindless gossiping.
Finally, Harry concluded that all the beauty and intelligence was passed to his Mum while the
stupidity and ugliness was passed to his Aunt.
Snorting to himself, Harry entered the smallest room in Number Four Privet Drive, which was
also what should be considered as his bedroom, his chain of thought derailed. Entering the
room, he saw that the room was empty and concluded that his pet owl and familiar Hedwig
was probably outside hunting for food. Looking at the window, which was only half open, he
decided to open it fully so as to get the air in the room circulating. As he finally opened the
window, a deceptively cool breeze entered the room, which surprised Harry to some extent.
But he was only somewhat surprised. He was, after all, living in England, and here the
weather changed like the mood of any person.
Harry ruminated if the weather pattern of England was in fact connected to the mood of some
higher power. He reflected on England's constantly changing weather and finally surmised that
whoever the higher deity responsible for England was, she was probably a female, which
perfectly explained the mood swings of the unpredictable weather of his country.
As Harry caught on to the chain of thought which had been derailed upon entering the room,
he contemplated that it was indeed true. The thought comforted him very much as it proved
that he was somewhat resistant to the infectious stupidity of the Dursley family. He had
initially been infected with some of the stupidity, but the shock of his Godfather's death had
washed the stupidity away from him and freed his mind to the real world. His eyes were now
opened to all the things and opportunities that he could use for a better life for himself and
those close to him.
The Magical World considered Harry Potter to be a day-to-day wizard who had by some luck
survived the Killing Curse from the Dark Lord when he was one year old. He would use this to
his advantage, as no one would suspect him of being able to manipulate his way to the top.
People considered Gryffindors to be always good and honorable. But Peter Pettigrew (aka
Wormtail) was an example that it was not always so.
Harry decided that he would have his own code of conduct from now on. He was not going to
be a stereotypic moron who was swayed by the opinion of people; people who he knew were
biased and fickle. He had experienced their bigotry first-handed.
Even the so-called Light-sided wizards were not free from bigotry. Their bigotry was for other
things, but in the end, it was still bigotry. They considered Werewolves to be Dark Creatures
but they were just individuals who had a 'furry little problem'. They were only dangerous on
full moon, and even that could be prevented by the use of the Wolfsbane Potion. Ron had
thought that being a Parselmouth was the sign of a Dark Wizard. But Parseltongue was only a
skill that was passed from generation to generation, a skill that some evil wizards had used for
wrong-doing, and then the world condemned every Parselmouth as a Dark Wizard.
Then there was the topic of Dark Arts. Harry remembered his time during the Philosopher's
Stone Fiasco in the Stone Chamber from his first year when Voldemort had spoken to him
face-to-face. "There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." While that
statement could not be considered true, it did make some sense. Magic was just that, magic.
It was with the intentions that it was used that mattered. Light Magic could be used for harm
and Dark Magic could be used for good. Dark Arts were given a bad name because they were
addictive. Dark Arts required emotions to properly channel the spell. This just proved that the
wizards who used them had weak minds and they could not protect their minds from their own
emotions, which led them to be seduced by the power. Tommy Boy was a special case though.
He had a strong will and a strong mind, but because of the horrors of his childhood, he had
become cruel to protect himself and then he had come to hate the Muggles. (He knew
everything about Tom Riddle's orphanage life.) He actively sought power for the sake of
power. But power without a purpose was pointless.
Harry knew that he was powerful, and he knew that if he was to learn the Dark Arts, he would
not be seduced by the power. He could not allow himself to be seduced. He would not allow
himself to be seduced. He would respect the Arts and use it rationally. And the use of
Unforgivables was an option that was only to be used in a life or death situation, when he
would be desperately searching for any means of winning. He knew that he had the will to
hurt and kill - he had those impulses every time he saw Voldemort, the Death Eaters,
Umbridge and Fudge - and he had successfully used the Cruciatus Curse for a short time on
Bellatrix Lestrange. The only Unforgivables he could use properly would be the Cruciatus and
the Killing Curse; he could not cast the Imperious Curse satisfactorily as he had no urge to
dominate someone.
Harry knew that he had to control his emotions and not let them carry him away like it had
happened with Sirius, or he would not be allowed to live to tell the tale the next time he came
across someone he hated. He would be dead because he attacked without a plan in a fit of
emotions.
Harry decided that he had to learn how to control his emotions and channel them, and for that
he needed to learn Occlumency. He would not suppress his emotions. Instead, he would store
his emotions in the corners of his mind and he would use them when he needed. Using the
emotions in a combat-situation would be a two-fold advantage as it would stop them from
affecting his mind and they would also make his spells powerful. If he stored some of his
happiness away so that he could use them at some another time, then he could cast a
powerful Patronus Charm when facing Dementors. He knew that when using Patronus, one
had to actively think of a happy memory. This made them susceptible to attacks from the
surrounding. So if he used his stored happiness, he would not have to actively seek a happy
memory and he could concentrate on his surrounding environment. Similarly, he could store
his hate and killing instinct to use them for Unforgivables.
The storing of his emotions had to be done passively, as he knew that people considered Harry
Potter to be an emotional teenager and his lack of emotions would likely raise suspicion. Harry
also reckoned that if he suppressed his emotions actively, he would likely become a nutter like
Dumbledore who sucked on his tray full of Lemon

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Plays . TV
Plays . TV
TV
Search Search
»
Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
We learn more from our mistakes than from our successes.
The errors of the past are the wisdom of the future.
Take an interest in the future - that is where you are going to spend the rest of your
life.
* * * * * Chapter 2 * * * * *
*|* A Thoughtful Evening *|*
That evening, Harry was eating dinner with his cousin Dudley and his Aunt Petunia. His Uncle
Vernon Dursley was out on a business and Harry was not informed of when he would be back.
Today they were having all of Dudley's favorite food, all of which were full of grease. This was
his demand after his diet regimen was over. (The school nurses tried for one full year to
reduce Dudley's body size, and only succeed in converting a little body fat into muscles. After
that, even they had to give up.)
Dudley was, as usual, stuffing his face full of all the food he could eat at one time and his
piggy little eyes were concentrated on the TV, which was a few feet away from the dining
table. (The TV was in the sitting room a few days ago, but Dudley started whining about not
being able to watch his favorite shows - which were aired during their usual dinner time - so
the TV was shifted from its previous place to its current home.)
Harry was surprised that Dudley could multi-task; he just didn't seem to have enough brain
power for that. (Harry always privately thought that Dudley was a 'pig-in-a-wig that was
taught to walk on its hind legs' when they were children, but now that could not be applicable.
Dudley now qualified as a baby blue whale with all that fat he had in his body. Dudley could be
compared with Malfoy Junior's gorilla-like bodyguards who went by the name of Crabbe and
Goyle, who shared a few brain cells between the two of them.) But then again, eating and
watching the TV were both Dudley's favorite hobbies, so he would have tried very hard in
order to carry out both the activities at the same time.
Aunt Petunia was sitting in what she thought was a poised and elegant manner (to Harry she
just looked constipated), and was surveying her household for any sign of dust or dirt. For a
clean freak like his Aunt, even a small mote of dust was considered as a personal insult to her
cleaning skill and had to be destroyed. (Harry often wondered if he should just invite
Voldemort and his Death Munchers one day for dinner, cover them with a lot of dirt and see
what his Aunt Petunia would do to them for desecrating her house. They would be completely
annihilated.)
Harry quickly and quietly finished his portion of the dinner (which was not much) so that he
could return to his room and proceed with detailing his future plans. Just as he was about to
get up to wash his hands and take his leave, the lights in the entire neighborhood went off and
darkness descended upon the house.
Suddenly, Dudley let out a wail of anguish so loud that Harry thought he was being tortured.
Aunt Petunia was shuffling around the room searching for God knows what in the darkness.
"Mum! The TV and lights! I can't see the food! Do something, Mum! I wanna see!" Dudley
wailed loudly.
"Hush, Duddykins! (Harry snorted to himself) I think that some power cables probably melted
due to the head. I'm trying to find some candles to light," Petunia said in her horribly
annoying screeching voice, trying to calm her precious Dudders.
Harry heard the sound of a matchstick being lit and suddenly the room was bathed in the
yellow glow of candle light as Petunia made a noise of triumph.
"This will do till the power comes back. I told Vernon to buy that new emergency lights, but
no! 'There are no power cuts here, Petunia dear,' he says. He should have been here now so I
could give him a good talking to about not listening to his wife's advice," Petunia muttered to
herself, and continued doing so until Dudley spoke again.
"Mum! At least start the fan! I'm feeling very hot! Dudley wailed again from his seat at the
table. He was sweating buckets because of the sudden lack of cool air supply, which made the
entire room a bit warm, but he was fat, and fat people and warm places was not a good
combination. To him, it was as if he was sitting in an oven.
"The candles will blow out!" Petunia exclaimed in reply to her sweating son's demand.
Harry had to try very hard to hold in his amusement at his relatives' stupidity and he quietly
wondered to himself if they could get any more stupid.
"Aunt Petunia?" Harry called out softly. In response, Petunia shrieked loudly and nearly
jumped through the roof. Harry had to stop himself from wincing at the unpleasant noise.
"What are you doing, idiotic child? Keep quiet! Are you trying to scare us?" Petunia hissed in
anger.
"I just wanted to ask if I can return to my room," Harry said, more than a bit annoyed.
"Go!" she commanded imperiously, as if she was ordering her troops to the battlefield. Harry
rolled his eyes and decided to quickly leave the table before he was caught in any more of this
stupidity.
As he was walking up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step just above the cupboard,
Harry wondered whether stupidity was genetic or if it was infectious. To him both the cases
seemed plausible. Living with Vernon and Dudley Dursley showed him that it was a genetic
problem. Both were baby blue whales, both had similar mannerism and both had nearly
identical personalities and looks that if not for the age difference, they could be mistaken for
brothers. Both were a living proof that stupidity was a genetic problem.
But Harry had to wonder about his Aunt Petunia Dursley. She was the elder sister of Lily Potter
nee Evans, who was said to be an extremely intelligent and bright student, sorted into
Gryffindor House, who was the top of her class, and was also a Prefect and Head Girl during
her seven years of study at Hogwarts. After Hogwarts, she was recognized as a Charms
Mistress by many. She was also a capable dueler and was able to hold herself against Lord
Voldemort - who was arguably one of the best dueler and an extremely knowledgeable and
cunning person - not once, but three times. That had to count for something.
Looking at Petunia Dursley, one had to wonder if the woman was indeed the sister of Lily
Potter. Petunia never showed any signs of what could be remotely considered as intelligence,
except for her cleaning and household skills as well as her talent for spying on her neighbors
for juicy gossip. She was just a common woman who had an occasional sharp-tongue that she
never put to good use. It seemed to him that she did have brains, she just didn't use it. This
just proved his point that stupidity was also infectious, because she was just wasting her
useful talent in mindless gossiping.
Finally, Harry concluded that all the beauty and intelligence was passed to his Mum while the
stupidity and ugliness was passed to his Aunt.
Snorting to himself, Harry entered the smallest room in Number Four Privet Drive, which was
also what should be considered as his bedroom, his chain of thought derailed. Entering the
room, he saw that the room was empty and concluded that his pet owl and familiar Hedwig
was probably outside hunting for food. Looking at the window, which was only half open, he
decided to open it fully so as to get the air in the room circulating. As he finally opened the
window, a deceptively cool breeze entered the room, which surprised Harry to some extent.
But he was only somewhat surprised. He was, after all, living in England, and here the
weather changed like the mood of any person.
Harry ruminated if the weather pattern of England was in fact connected to the mood of some
higher power. He reflected on England's constantly changing weather and finally surmised that
whoever the higher deity responsible for England was, she was probably a female, which
perfectly explained the mood swings of the unpredictable weather of his country.
As Harry caught on to the chain of thought which had been derailed upon entering the room,
he contemplated that it was indeed true. The thought comforted him very much as it proved
that he was somewhat resistant to the infectious stupidity of the Dursley family. He had
initially been infected with some of the stupidity, but the shock of his Godfather's death had
washed the stupidity away from him and freed his mind to the real world. His eyes were now
opened to all the things and opportunities that he could use for a better life for himself and
those close to him.
The Magical World considered Harry Potter to be a day-to-day wizard who had by some luck
survived the Killing Curse from the Dark Lord when he was one year old. He would use this to
his advantage, as no one would suspect him of being able to manipulate his way to the top.
People considered Gryffindors to be always good and honorable. But Peter Pettigrew (aka
Wormtail) was an example that it was not always so.
Harry decided that he would have his own code of conduct from now on. He was not going to
be a stereotypic moron who was swayed by the opinion of people; people who he knew were
biased and fickle. He had experienced their bigotry first-handed.
Even the so-called Light-sided wizards were not free from bigotry. Their bigotry was for other
things, but in the end, it was still bigotry. They considered Werewolves to be Dark Creatures
but they were just individuals who had a 'furry little problem'. They were only dangerous on
full moon, and even that could be prevented by the use of the Wolfsbane Potion. Ron had
thought that being a Parselmouth was the sign of a Dark Wizard. But Parseltongue was only a
skill that was passed from generation to generation, a skill that some evil wizards had used for
wrong-doing, and then the world condemned every Parselmouth as a Dark Wizard.
Then there was the topic of Dark Arts. Harry remembered his time during the Philosopher's
Stone Fiasco in the Stone Chamber from his first year when Voldemort had spoken to him
face-to-face. "There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." While that
statement could not be considered true, it did make some sense. Magic was just that, magic.
It was with the intentions that it was used that mattered. Light Magic could be used for harm
and Dark Magic could be used for good. Dark Arts were given a bad name because they were
addictive. Dark Arts required emotions to properly channel the spell. This just proved that the
wizards who used them had weak minds and they could not protect their minds from their own
emotions, which led them to be seduced by the power. Tommy Boy was a special case though.
He had a strong will and a strong mind, but because of the horrors of his childhood, he had
become cruel to protect himself and then he had come to hate the Muggles. (He knew
everything about Tom Riddle's orphanage life.) He actively sought power for the sake of
power. But power without a purpose was pointless.
Harry knew that he was powerful, and he knew that if he was to learn the Dark Arts, he would
not be seduced by the power. He could not allow himself to be seduced. He would not allow
himself to be seduced. He would respect the Arts and use it rationally. And the use of
Unforgivables was an option that was only to be used in a life or death situation, when he
would be desperately searching for any means of winning. He knew that he had the will to
hurt and kill - he had those impulses every time he saw Voldemort, the Death Eaters,
Umbridge and Fudge - and he had successfully used the Cruciatus Curse for a short time on
Bellatrix Lestrange. The only Unforgivables he could use properly would be the Cruciatus and
the Killing Curse; he could not cast the Imperious Curse satisfactorily as he had no urge to
dominate someone.
Harry knew that he had to control his emotions and not let them carry him away like it had
happened with Sirius, or he would not be allowed to live to tell the tale the next time he came
across someone he hated. He would be dead because he attacked without a plan in a fit of
emotions.
Harry decided that he had to learn how to control his emotions and channel them, and for that
he needed to learn Occlumency. He would not suppress his emotions. Instead, he would store
his emotions in the corners of his mind and he would use them when he needed. Using the
emotions in a combat-situation would be a two-fold advantage as it would stop them from
affecting his mind and they would also make his spells powerful. If he stored some of his
happiness away so that he could use them at some another time, then he could cast a
powerful Patronus Charm when facing Dementors. He knew that when using Patronus, one
had to actively think of a happy memory. This made them susceptible to attacks from the
surrounding. So if he used his stored happiness, he would not have to actively seek a happy
memory and he could concentrate on his surrounding environment. Similarly, he could store
his hate and killing instinct to use them for Unforgivables.
The storing of his emotions had to be done passively, as he knew that people considered Harry
Potter to be an emotional teenager and his lack of emotions would likely raise suspicion. Harry
also reckoned that if he suppressed his emotions actively, he would likely become a nutter like
Dumbledore who sucked on his tray full of Lemon Drops, or a snarky git like Snape who hated
everyone, or a powerful mindless psychopath like Tommy Boy who wanted to rule the world.
Then there was the question about his dueling skills, as knowledge of spells was not
everything in a battle. One had to have knowledge of when to use a spell depending on the
situation. There was no need to use a Flame Spell when a simple Lumos would suffice. Harry
considered himself to be average dueler, who could defeat his school mates and hold himself
against a knowledgeable opponent for sometime. He had power, he knew that and he
accepted it, but what he lacked was proper knowledge of spells. He resolved to himself that he
would read every spell book in his possession and then he would probably visit Diagon Alley
for more books. He also wanted to visit Knockturn Alley so that he could obtain books on the
Dark Arts. Even if he would not use them, it was better to have knowledge of an opponents'
weapons so that they could be properly counteracted.
But for him to be able to procure all these things, Harry needed money, and for money, he
needed to go to Gringotts Wizard Bank in Diagon Alley. And to be able to go to Diagon Alley,
he would need to get past his Order Guards undetected and come back undetected. If he was
caught while leaving, the security would be tightened and he would not get another
opportunity to escape. If was caught coming back with bags full of book, books regarding the
Dark Arts at that, he knew that he was in for Hell.
In the end, Harry decided that he would study the guard shift of the Order members. If it was
Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody, he knew that he would not be able to even leave the house because
of that magical eye of Moody which could see through walls, and if he was not at home when
Mad Eye checked, he knew that he would have to pay for leaving the house without
permission. (Permission which, Harry was sure, he would not get even if he asked.) Same
would be the case with the Order members who were Ministry Aurors. They were trained
individuals and as such they would know some spells that would help them in determining
whether he was present in the house or not.
Harry reckoned that his only chance of leaving Privet Drive and getting to Diagon Alley would
be if the Order posted some less skilled members. Someone like Mundungus Fletcher.
AN : About Harry knowing Tom's orphanage life, he had seen his entire life when he had
stabbed the diary as the soul was slowly destroyed. He saw the similarities in their childhood,
but he knew that he had to be strong or he would become like Tom, which he did not want.
That is why this story is AU. It is also minor crossover. The emotion talk may sound like Jedi
talk of the force. Here Harry is not a pansy and he does not wallow in grief. He is intelligent
and cunning, but he has honour. Some things will be changed from the events of the canon to
for the purpose of my story, but most will remain the same. Whenever you come across the
changes from the canon, if anyone has any confusion, please mention so in the review and I
will try my best to solve your doubts. If you want I will PM you.
I would also like to thank all my reviewers for their encouragement. To all readers, please
review!
There is a pairing poll on my profile page! Please visit and Vote!
Review this Chapter
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Experience is a good teacher, but at times the fees are rather high.
If you keep looking at the obstacles, you have takes your eyes off your goal.
People may doubt what you say, but they will always believe what you do.
Life can never give security; it can only promise opportunity. Many receive
opportunities, but only the wise profit from it.
The only job you start at the top is when you dig a hole.
* * * * * Chapter 3 * * * * *
*|* Plans & Preparations *|*
During the next few days, the weather in England became considerably cooler than it was
before. The heat was now tolerable, but the humidity levels increased considerably, which
caused a lot of uncomfortable sweating. On one such day, it was nearly noon when one could
hear a lot of cursing in a slightly muffled voice. If one tried to locate the source of the voice,
they would be quite bewildered to find the cursing coming from thin air from under a window
sill on the lawn of Number Four Privet Drive. They would probably think that the heat was
messing with their brains and they were hallucinating and they would rush to a Doctor or they
would go home and empty a full bottle of water on their head before deciding to go to bed.
In truth, the source of the current quiet disturbance was a weedy looking man called
Mundungus Fletcher. He was a man who had quite a reputation in the shady places of
England, most of all in one place known as Knockturn Alley. Said alley which was full of similar
shady people and filthy-looking houses. If one looked at him, he would look like a pile of
moldy old rags which were lumped together. But he was not visible to anyone at the moment.
The reason he was currently invisible was because he was hiding under an Invisibility Cloak.
And the reason he was hiding under an Invisibility Cloak and sitting under a window sill hidden
by ornamental bushes was because he was currently the Order member who was on Guard
duty. He was put on Guard duty because all the Order members who were usually on this duty
at this time of the day were doing important work related to their daily jobs or some
undercover Order business.
'Tha's wha thay say,' Mundungus, commonly called by his 'associates' as "Dung", grumbled to
himself. 'Ah know that thay are still punishin' me fah last year's mistake.'
Dung was sure that all the Order members had some personal vendetta against him and were
taking their vengeance by ordering him to guard the Potter lad in this humid climate. This time
there were no Dementors here, but as he continued sweating, Dung thought that al least the
chill of the Dementor's frost aura would keep him cool from the heat.
Dung wanted nothing to do with the vigilante Order of the Phoenix, but he had been forced to
join the group as a favor to Dumbledore, who had saved his life in the last war against the
Dark Lord. If he did not owe the old man a life debt, he would have returned to his 'business
associates' as soon as he could. But now due to that thrice-damned life debt, he had ended up
guarding a brat who always got into one mess or another.
As his thoughts turned to the Order, he speculated about the Order Headquarters. Now that
Black was dead, there would be no one in the house other than the blasted House Elf and that
vile portrait. The old man and other Order members were worried that with Black's death, the
security of the place had been compromised. There was only one solution for that in Dung's
mind : loot all valuables and then leave the dirty house alone. As he reminisced about the
house, he suddenly remembered that the house was full of goblets, plates and countless other
artifacts made of gold and silver. There were even a few valuable jewels and ornaments lying
around in glass boxes that could not be opened by anyone. If he stole a few and sold them,
then he would get a hefty prize for finding the belongings of a very old Pureblood family. The
money would allow him to live a life of luxury for a few years. The Order was foolish; such a
large source of money was in front of them of them and they had no idea how much their
value in the market was.
Finally, as he lit his tobacco pipe, Dung decided that when his shift was over and he was
replaced by Dedalus Diggle, he would head over to that hovel and dig around for some of the
artifacts. Who knew, he just might get lucky, right?
Sadly, Mundungus Fletcher didn't realize how wrong he was.

Harry had at first spent two days studying the guard shift of the Order members, but after two
days of doing nothing but trying to recognize the Order members on guard duty, he decided
that the Order members on guard duty had no pattern in their shifts and were completely
random. They changed at completely random time and their shifts varied in lengths of specific
time. Some were there for only ten minutes while others stayed for full five hours. So instead
of wasting his precious time trying to understand the randomness of his Guards, he spent the
next few days reading every book he had in his collection. He went over every book ranging
from 'The Standard Book of Spell – Grade 1 to 5', 'Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find
Them', '1000 Magical Herbs & Fungi', as well as the set of Defense books he was gifted by
Sirius and Remus on Christmas.
Harry also decided to ready all his belongings for departure as he had no idea of when he
would have to leave. He had his school bag which was used to carry his class books and was
expanded on the inside. He had dragged his school trunk out and was sorting through all the
useful things inside the trunk.
Harry had polished and prepared his Firebolt – which he had received at the end of the school
year after being confisticated by Umbitch. . . Ooops. . . Umbridge – so that he could fly away
in case there was any sign of danger nearby. His Invisibility Cloak was neatly folded on the
desk, along with the Marauders Map and his Sneakoscope (a gift from Ron). His wand was in
his back pocket, ready for use at the slightest hint of trouble. (Harry hoped that Moody never
saw this or he would survive to hear the end of the lecture on elementary wand safety.)
The expanded book bag contained all the books that he considered important, his photo album
and a few change of clothes, along with his money bag. His Gringotts Vault Key was with him.
(He had been about to ask for Mrs. Weasley to return it, and was surprised that she was
carrying it in her purse pocket and was going to return it to him on the platform as they were
about to depart to their homes.)
As Harry was arranging his cauldron and potions kit in his trunk – which he decided that he
did not need when he was escaping as it would only weigh him down – he saw a small vial
lying in the corner of his trunk. As he picked it up, he recognized that it was from his potions
kit and realized that it must have must have slipped out of it place during packing. He opened
his potion kit to return the ingredient to its proper place and he saw that one slot from the
portion of the kit labeled "Poisonous : Handle with care" was empty. He turned the vial in
his hand and saw that the vial was labeled in an elegant script as 'Hellebore'. Just as he was
about to put it into its proper slot, the text explaining Hellebore flashed through his mind and
he paused. Looking at the small vial thoughtfully, a plan slowly formed in Harry's mind.
Hellebore was a poisonous ingredient. Such poisonous ingredients had to be only touched
when one was wearing Dragon-hide gloves and they had to be handled with care. Harry
imagined that these could be used as poison to kill someone off and make it look like an
accident involving mishandling of highly poisonous potion ingredients. If he was able to do
that, at least he would not be blamed directly for any deaths and then he could afterwards
always Obliviate himself to erase the damning memory so that Veritaserum could not be used
against him.
If Harry wanted to get into the Hunter profession, he knew that he had to be cunning and
ruthless to his enemies. Every bad person dead was one less person fighting against him and
hurting anyone else. He could also use Muggle poison from non-magical plants. He had read in
a book at Hogwarts regarding the autopsies in Magical World after the events of the Chamber
of Secrets Incident. The Aurors and Healers only checked for spell damage or magical
poisoning. They had difficulty identifying and diagnosing even major petrification, which was
easily recognizable. They thought that Muggle plants would not affect them since wizards were
after all considered immune to Muggle diseases, so the death had to be by magic. It made
perfect sense, but only to the morons of the Magical World. It was as if they considered
themselves to actually be immune to Muggles. That would explain all the Pureblood nonsense
about being superior to Muggles and Muggleborns.
Harry personally thought that those Purebloods should be left stranded on some barren island
with a common mugger with a Gun in his hand and they would find out how superior they
actually were. Oh yeah, they would be superior alright, with their souls floating away to
Heaven. That was if they were lucky. Otherwise they would prove that they were inferior to a
Muggle by lying dead at his feet with a bullet hole in their heads and their souls being carried
away to Hell.
The uses of a Gun certainly interested him though. Harry was sure that most of the Magical
World had no knowledge about firearms other than some individuals who were Muggleborn,
Muggle-raised or half-bloods. He didn't know what was taught in the Muggle Studies Class at
Hogwarts, but he was pretty sure that firearms were only mentioned in passing. Even Mr.
Weasley – who was arguably the most Muggle-fanatic wizard he had ever met – didn't know
what a Gun was, because during his third year Sirius Crisis, Mr. Weasley had called a Pistol as
'some type of Muggle wand'. If he was able to get a Gun from one of the shady London
dealers, he could enchant it himself. If he found an enchanted firearm during his trip to
Knockturn Alley, then even better. He was sure that a Gun would work even at Hogwarts,
because even though magic interfered with electronics, a Gun had no electronics to be
interfered with. A Gun just worked on the basic laws of physics. And it worked better than a
wand for someone who wanted his enemies down as quickly as possible and did not want to
waste his magic.
Harry then realized that even though he was about to become a Hunter, he did not have the
most basic equipment that any Hunter should have : a Hunting Knife. A Knife was a basic,
easy-to-use, multi-purpose weapon. It could be coated with poisons so as to paralyze a victim
or kill them quickly. And it could be easily considered on the body.
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his now shoulder-length black hair. He had always
wondered about why he didn't need any haircut since he had started Hogwarts. When he had
learnt about Metamorphmagus and their abilities from Tonks, he thought he was also one,
since when he had lost nearly all the hair on his head due to Aunt Petunia cutting them off
with garden scissors when she was annoyed with his scruffy looking hair, the hair had
miraculously grown back overnight. And since then he had not needed a hair cut. But then he
noticed that his fellow Classmates also never had any haircuts during their time at Hogwarts.
So he finally wrote it off as a side effect of being magical.
Harry groaned suddenly as he realized that he still had so many things to plan, so much work
still left to be done. He might have some experience on fighting against the Death Munchers,
but he knew that he still had many things to learn. Things that were not taught at Hogwarts.
After having lunch, Harry was again in his bedroom and was standing near the open window,
just relaxing during some of the free time that he had available right now. He knew that his
life was soon going to become exciting and he wanted to remember these peaceful moments
of quietness, a few brief moments of tranquility during which he did not have to care about
any of his problems and just relax his mind and body.
Harry spent some time lazing around near the window as a breeze blew through the window.
Then Harry noticed something different in the wind. It was the smell of something burning,
something that smelled almost putrid. Some that smelled like . . . tobacco. . . The smell
triggered his memories and Harry quickly stuck his head out of the window and looked down
at the lawn. Unsurprisingly, there in the lawn, near the window sill above the ornamental
bushes, a whiff of smoke was slowly rising, and then it was carried away by the wind.
Harry rolled his eyes as he recognised the Order member on duty. There was no other
member of the Order who smoked tobacco, and there was certainly no person in the Order
who would dare to smoke on their guard shift. There was only one person who was stupid
enough, and that person went by the name of Mundungus Fletcher.
As he pulled his head back into the room, Harry wondered how Dumbledore punished the
Order members who slacked off their duties. He was certain that the old Headmaster would
use emotional blackmail first and foremost; first that damn twinkling eyes would become less
like a headlight of a vehicle and then his voice would become all low and morose, as if he was
disappointed in the person. Harry was certain that every Order member was susceptible to
this attack; he himself had certainly been a victim many times.
Just as he was thinking about punishment, an idea hatched in his mind and quickly started
taking the form of a cunning plan. Harry was sure that if he succeeded in carrying out this
particular plan effectively, then he could gain a lot of important stuff and he would quickly be
on the path of becoming a Hunter.
As the plan was finally completely formed, Harry decided that he would take advantage of this
opportunity provided to him and he would squeeze as much profit out of it as he possibly
could. Reaching his trunk, Harry took out the one thing that would help him in convincing
Mundungus to help him if his 'negotiations', so to say, were not successful.
With a smirk firmly etched onto his face, Harry left his room to confront the one man whose
help would be vital in his plans for the future.
'Look out, Mundungus Fletcher. By the end of the day, you will be with me or you will not be
there at all.'
AN : There will only be three Horcruxes in this story : the Diary, the Snake and Voldemort's
soul. Harry will not be a Horcrux.
Further explanation of last chapter's statement about Harry seeing Tom's orphanage
memories : Harry could see Tom's soul in the diary and understand it because he had been
touched by Voldemort's Magic at Soul level when the Killing Curse failed to work. Hence he
was already familiar with Tom's magic and the brief memory viewing from the soul was just an
unconscious response to the life force contained the diary being suddenly destroyed. Tom's
soul in the diary had nearly attained corporality and thus on being destroyed, the life force
returned to Ginny, but the magic of the enchanted diary as well as the small amount of life
force had quite a lot of power, and so a contained energy backlash was created and the
energy (along with the soul fragment's life force) was released into nature through Harry and
so Harry saw some brief flashes of memories of several incidents in which Tom suffered an
intense emotions. Harry has retained no knowledge from Tom's memories nor does he know
about Horcruxes, he will find about them later in the story.
Thank you, all my reviewers. And thanks to those too who have read my story. If you have
any query regarding the story, write it down in a review. Those who wish to discuss about the
story may also leave a review; I will try to be in contact with you.
AN 2 : This note is to inform my dear readers that while right now I might be updating daily,
this will not be the fixed update rate for the future.

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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Only the dead have seen the end of a war.
We can believe what we choose. But we are answerable for what we choose to
believe.
To save your world, you asked this man to die. Would this man, could he see you
now, ask why?
They are blind leaders of the blind. And if blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the
ditch.
The enemies of Freedom do not ask and argue; they shout and they shoot.
Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it depends on what you put into it.
* * * * * Chapter 5 * * * * *
*|* Revenge *|*
Harry had always dreamed of being free from his relatives since his childhood. While his Aunt
and Uncle did not physically abuse him – that particular honor was reserved for Dudley – their
sharp, cutting words and neglect hurt even more deeply than any beating from Dudley and his
friends would ever have. But he had to survive, and survive he did. He was not much trusting
of anybody, not even people his own age, for he had personally seen what kind of damage
even children could inflict on others; he had been the victim most of the times.
Harry never knew that he was a wizard, and when he had found out that he was not just an
ordinary wizard but a famous one, he had been very happy. But after understanding that the
cost of the fame had been the life of his parents, he had come to resent it. And he knew that
fame was a magnet, a very powerful magnet that attracted trouble. And this trouble could also
cause grievous harm; both to himself and to others.
But over the course of his five-year long stay in the Wizarding World, Harry had seen that
fame and money could get you almost anything you wanted; so long as you played it safe and
played it clean.
For the entire last year, he had been the victim of the Wizarding World's resentment. The
reason for this was an incompetent man and his similarly incompetent Government. Ole
Tommy Boy was another reason. Why couldn't he be a good little Dark Lord, show his face to
the public and terrorize it. But no, Tommy had decided to grow a brain, and had decided to
milk the Ministry's refusal to believe his return to his fullest. (Harry thought that the 'growing
a brain' part must have been because his blood had been used in the Rebirthing Ritual.)
And finally there was the old 'Twinkle Toes' coot who also went by the name of Albus Percival
Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. His name was as long as his beard. The old Headmaster and his
Bird Watching Club had decided (probably since when had Voldemort's return) that he was
probably an interesting species of a bird, and hence they had decided to put watchers to spy
on him.
But one of the Bird Watcher was incompetent, and everyone knew it. Yet he was allowed to do
the watching, even though he had let a poacher slip past once. What was the guarantee that
he would not do so again? Yet he had been allowed back on the bird watching duty. When a
watcher smoked tobacco in a pipe that released clouds of green smoke and smelled heavily of
alcohol, even the dumbest of the dumb creature would realize that they were being observed.
Did they think that the bird was stupid?
If the bird was stupid, it would stay where it was instead of escaping when it could, and then
another – more competent – watcher would arrive and it would not be able to escape any time
soon.
If the bird was intelligent enough, it would escape when it still had the chance during the
stupid watcher's watching shift, and not wait for another one to arrive.
And if the bird was a black haired green eyed teenage wizard, it would take its chance and
have its freedom, but not before it destroyed the stupid watcher that had allowed for a
poacher to almost kill it.
That was the reason why the said teenager, who went by the name of Harry Potter, was
currently standing with a wand in each hand over the body of a man known to the world as
Mundungus Fletcher. Said man was currently occupying an old armchair, under the effects of a
Full-Body Bind Curse, a Binding Spell and a Stunning Spell. Previously, just a few minutes
earlier, the man had been suffering from plant poisoning, and had just been cured before he
had been Stunned.
Hellebore is a plant with magical properties. Many species of Hellebore are poisonous. That is
the reason why Dragon-hide gloves are required for handling the plant. It is mostly used in
the Draught of Peace as an ingredient. In its powder form, it is brown. In its liquid form, more
commonly known as Syrup of Hellebore, it is blue. When it is mixed with distilled water, the
blue color of the Syrup vanished. But the poisonous effects of the Syrup are still as potent as
it is in its Syrup; they just take a lot more time to take effect.
And when Dung Fletcher had greedily drunk the water, he had also ingested a vial full of the
Syrup of Hellebore. But fortunately – or unfortunately, as one might say in the future – the
water had been distilled. So the Syrup's effects took more time to show themselves, but they
still somewhat did.
Syrup of Hellebore is toxic, and can cause symptoms ranging from vertigo to cardiac arrest.
Dung had been just suffering from the primary symptoms of Hellebore poisoning before he
had been fed the antidote, a Bezoar.
A Bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons.
It is very useful in case of plant poisoning, especially if the plant has been ingested, because
the bezoar will be most effective inside the stomach of any creature suffering from poisoning.
The reason for this is that a bezoar inside a goat's stomach protects it from poisons when it
accidentally ingests any poisonous plant while grazing. Hence it will work most effectively if it
is in the stomach of almost any creature suffering from poisons, especially plant poisons.
Since Dung had been poisoned with a plant poison, bezoar was the most effective and easy to
obtain solution currently available. Harry had one in his potion box, but he forgot to take it
with him in all the excitement. (Harry immediately swore to himself that he would not make
such a stupid mistake again.)
It had been an extremely lucky coincidence that he had found the potion box. If he had not,
his plan would have most likely failed, since Dung would have been dead; and he needed the
Dealer right now.
As his thoughts turned towards the potion box, Harry decided to see who the box belonged to.
The thing was obviously very costly, as it was made of high-quality wood and was enchanted
with Undetectable Space-Expansion Charms, and those things were always costly. So it must
have belonged to a member of the Black Family, as most of the Order members did not have
that sort of money, and even if they did, they would not leave such a costly thing lying around
to be wasted. And since it looked old and still the enchantments were still functioning, the
thing would have been extra costly for the more powerful enchantments.
Walking over to the table where the box was currently resting, its lid closed, Harry once again
took the cloth and started dusting it, but stopped when the dust entered his nose, irritating it
and making him sneeze very loudly. Rubbing his nose, Harry threw the cloth away and
decided on using Dung's wand to clean the box. Picking up the wand, Harry thought of a
suitable spell. Then the memory of Neville's Mimbulus Mimbletonia came to his mind and Harry
remembered that embarrassing incident from last year's train journey. He recollected the spell
that Ginny had cast, and remembered it to be a Household Cleaning Charm that Mrs. Weasley
preferred to use in her kitchen.
"Scourgify!"
The dust that covered the entire box vanished in a second. "I love magic," remarked Harry.
Now that the box was clear of dust, Harry could see that it was shinier than he had previously
thought. The wood appeared to be a darker shade now that it was liberated from all the dust.
There were carvings of magical creatures all over the box. But in the centre of the box, visible
for all to see was the Black Family Crest with its family motto 'Toujours pur' carved beneath it.
So his suspicions about the box's owner were true; it indeed belonged to a Black Family
member. But the most curious question was 'Who does the box belong to?'
As Harry opened the lid in order to continue his examination of the potion box, he noticed
something that he had previously missed in his hurry to find a Bezoar. He could see hundred
of vials, and he had been correct in assuming that they contained potion ingredients and
completed potions. But he had been wrong in assuming that they were now clearly past the
maximum time limit for which potions and ingredients could be stored. Although a centimeter-
thick layer of dust had accumulated on it, everything inside the box was perfectly preserved
and ready for use.
And that was when Harry realized another mistake. In his hurry to get the Bezoar to Dung, he
had not checked if the contents of the box were safe for use or not. He once again repeated
his previous promise and thanked Merlin that Bezoars had no such time limit, for in the end
they were just stones; sure, they were antidotes for poisons, but a stone is always a stone.
"That must have been one hell of a Stasis Preservation Spell," muttered Harry to himself as he
once again looked at the box. "Whoever left it here was a fool to not realize its worth."
Looking at the box's contents, Harry saw many potions he did not yet know the names of. But
there were many other potions in here that shocked him. He had no idea who left this thing,
but whoever it was, Merlin bless his soul. The person had just made Harry's quest a lot easier.
There were multiple bottles of Polyjuice Potions, Veritaserum, Ageing Potion, Dreamless Sleep
Potion, Blood-Replenishing Potion, Pepper up Potion, Skele-Gro, Murtlap Essence, Bruise
Removal Paste, Wound-Healing Potion and many other made potions that he could not
identify. There were also small boxes and flasks full of ingredients used in potions. There were
many others he could not identify as they had not been studied yet.
On seeing all these vials of pre-made potions, Harry suspected that the owner of the box must
have been constantly involved in some fighting if he required such a vast array of potions to
be available at a moments notice.
"Well, whoever it was, thank you. You certainly did me a huge favor," said Harry as he
continued gazing at the box, his mind filling up with the ideas of how he could use these
potions for his own goals.
Deciding to keep the box, Harry was about to close it when he noticed a tag being stuck to the
inside of the box's lid. On it, written in a slightly slanting but neat handwriting, was the name
of the owner.
This potion box belongs to
REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK
Of Slytherin House
As he tried to recollect where he had heard that particular name, Harry suddenly remembered
what he had come here for in the first place.
Swiftly opening the box, Harry quickly snatched a vial of Veritaserum, along with a dropper for
administering precisely three drops. Picking up Dung's wand from its place on the table, he
made his way over to his Stunned victim.
Opening the cork of the vial, Harry put the dropper inside and extracted a small amount of the
Ministry-controlled powerful Truth Serum known as Veritaserum. As Snape had once informed
him, "It is Veritaserum – a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling
your innermost secrets."
Holding his breath, Harry opened Dung's mouth and gently squeezing the dropper, he allowed
exactly three drops to fall on the thief's tongue. Closing the thing, Harry waited for a few
moments before deciding to wake the man up. It was time for the interrogation to begin.
'Let's get ready to rumble!' as Michael Buffer would say. Wand pointed at the Stunned man,
he cast the counter-curse to the Stunning Spell.
"Rennervate!"
There was a flash of red light and Dung's eyes opened slowly; they were slightly glazed over.
Recognizing the effects of the Veritaserum from fourth year, Harry proceeded with his
questioning.
"What is your full name?" questioned Harry, beginning the interrogation with the most basic
question.
"Mundungus Fabian Fletcher," answered Dung, his voice dull and flat, his face slacked and his
gaze unfocused.
"What is the name of the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters?" was the next question.
"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," Dung muttered.
"Who were you guarding today?" Harry asked the final identity-confirmation question.
"A boy. Name's Harry James Potter," came the reply.
"Why did you have the Portkey to the old Headquarters with you?" asked Harry, curious to
know if his hunch about the thief was correct.
"The Por'key was with me so that I could come 'ere when the place 'as empty."
"Why?" Harry repeated.
"So that I could loot the place. Thos' fools of Dumbles' Order don' realize the worth of this
place. If ah sell all the things in here, I coul' make thousands of Galleons," Dung said.
"To whom were you going to sell them?" queried Harry.
"The Goblins first, 'cause they give a fair price, but there is a lot of paper'ork. If not Goblins,
then to Wiseacre in Diagon. Then ah coul' sell them to the Burgin's bloke in 'nockturn. But that
guy gives 'ery less money."
"Name your contacts. No, wait a minute," Harry said, while he searched the room for a quill
and parchment. Finding some on the desk near the window, along with a nearly empty inkpot,
Harry quickly rushed back to Dung so that he could note down the names; these could be
useful to him in future.
"Start speaking," said Harry, his quill poised over the parchment to start writing.
"Ah don' 'ave any," came the dull answer.
"What?" exclaimed Harry. "You have no contacts?"
"No."
"Then what the fuck do you do in the Order?" asked Harry incredulously.
"I listen to tha talk in 'nockturn. That place is always full of weird people," replied Dung.
"Dumbledore also assigns me Guard duty when I 'ave any free time. 'E's tha only one who
supports me in tha Order."
"Why?"
"'E thinks ah am loyal to him. Ah only listen to him 'cause I owe 'im a Life Debt. And he 'as
called on it, so I'm obligated to 'elp him an' his Order. And he can give me protection if I need
it."
"Would you betray the Order, and leave them if there is a fight?" asked Harry, his voice
deceptively calm.
"My life comes first. I'll do anythin' to save maself," Dung muttered. "An' I never signed up to
be slaughtered by You-Know-Who. I'm not stupid."
"Yes, we were the stupid ones to trust you," hissed Harry, carefully trying to control his anger,
because he knew that if he lost control and killed Dung, his plan would be foiled. And now that
he knew about Fletcher's position in the war, Harry knew that Dung would be next to useless
in the Order. And since he had revealed his loyalties, Harry knew he would not have any
qualms about killing the thieving traitor now. To use the old coot's favorite phrase, 'It's for the
greater good!'
"Give me the names of all the important Death Eaters that you know," Harry commanded.
"And tell me of the communication spells that the Order uses in emergency."
Fletcher gave all the names he knew of, which were quite a few. Harry recognized a lot of
them from the Graveyard. Dung also informed Harry of the special spell the Order members
used to communicate, which Harry found was a different version of the Patronus, in which the
Patronus Guardian carried the message to the recipient. He had asked for it so that he could
send a message to anyone if he found out that their lives were in jeopardy.
Harry also asked Fletcher to give him the locations of where he hid all his money and other
valuables. The reply shocked Harry.
"Ah hide ma things in tha Kitchen of the old Headquarters, as no one visits the place now.
Only tha ruddy 'Ouse Elf is 'ere now."
So the old House Elf was here, huh? Harry was no longer angry at Kreacher and did not blame
him for his Godfather's death; no, he now pitied the Elf. As Dumbledore had said to him last
year, Kreacher was what he was made by wizards. I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as
a being with feeling as acute as a human's, were Dumbledore's words. Sirius had never been
kind to the old Elf Harry knew that, and just like Dobby, Kreacher too resented his Master.
Both Dobby and Kreacher were similar in that regard.
Now that he had no further use of Fletcher, Harry looked at the thief and said, "Well, it's been
a pleasure knowing you, Mundungus Fletcher. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your wand,
do you? I'm sure that you will have no further need of it, and it can help me a great deal until
I acquire another proper wand. So goodbye. And do say my hello to the Devil. Also, tell him to
book some people, because they are soon going to need a new place of residence : Hell."
With that, Harry raised his 'newly acquired' wand and once again Stunned Fletcher. Oh, no,
death wasn't going to take him so soon. He would die slowly as a payment for his mistakes.
Harry Potter does not forget; and he definitely does not forgive.
The Kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was in the basement and accessible through a
narrow staircase at the end of the entrance hallway. The kitchen was a cavernous room with a
large fireplace at one end and a large wooden table in the centre. There was also a large
pantry and a small room used by Kreacher as a bedroom.
And currently, Harry was standing in the said kitchen and searching for the loot that Fletcher
hid in the room. As he slowly searched the entire room, Harry noticed that there was nothing
ever remotely looking like a treasure. He was sure that Fletcher could not lie under the
influence of the Veritaserum, so the loot must be here in the kitchen. But it was not there and
Harry knew that no other Order member would be foolish enough to visit this place without
the old reprobate's orders. So there was no chance of anyone else stealing the stolen goods.
Unless. . .
"Kreacher!" called out Harry, hoping that the old Elf was still in his small room, though he
knew that Kreacher might not answer his call as he was not family.
There was a loud crack and the old House Elf appeared; his snout-like nose, large bat's ears
and enormous bloodshot eyes were still the same, as well as the ever-present filthy rags that
he wore as clothes.
"What does Master need?" croaked Kreacher, and he bowed low, muttering to himself, "Filthy
half-blood, back in my Mistress's house, sullying the house with his presence."
Harry for his part was shocked. Kreacher had called him 'Master' and he had heard his call.
Still shocked, Harry heard what Kreacher was muttering to himself.
"Shut up, Kreacher," said Harry, his tone serious.
Kreacher immediately quieted, which again surprised. He knew that Kreacher had only
followed Sirius's orders because he had no other choice; the Elf did not even listen to Tonks's
orders, and the Metamorphmagus was a part of the family, though not on the Family Tree.
Deciding to ponder on that later, Harry continued with what he had initially summoned
Kreacher for.
"Kreacher, where are all the valuables that Mundungus Fletcher brought to this Kitchen?"
asked Harry.
At first Kreacher looked like he wouldn't answer, but then he started speaking. "Thief Fletcher
hides all the things here. But the thief tries to steal the Family things, and Kreacher does not
like that. So when he goes away, Kreacher hide it all in the Storage Room of the house."
"And where is this Storage Room?" Harry asked, wanting to see for himself if there was
anything useful there.
Now Kreacher was struggling very hard and it was clear that he did not want to answer the
question. But he had to follow his Master's orders and so he answered, "Storage Room lies
behind the Family Tapestry."
"Then how come Sirius never knew about it?" Harry asked, as he knew that his Godfather had
no knowledge of said room. If he had any clue about it, Sirius would have done his level best
to get rid of everything inside the room.
Kreacher had by now quit struggling and was answering the questions as best as he could.
"Manor Magic hides it from everyone. Only family knows."
Harry was puzzled; wasn't his Godfather a Black? So he asked the old Elf, "But Sirius was a
Black, wasn't he?"
"Old Master indeed be a Black, but he be disowned. So he is family only in name," said
Kreacher as he looked up at Harry.
"But why didn't he know of the room's existence?" queried Harry as he seated himself in a
kitchen chair so that he could look Kreacher in the eye while speaking.
Kreacher too decided to sit follow his Master and sat down on the floor. "Only adults of family
know of the place. Old Master leave the house before he be an adult. So he does not know."
Harry was in deep thought. "So why are you telling me?"
"Because you are now Master and you be an adult since last year."
The answer startled Harry. He had no knowledge of such things; he thought he was still
underage. "How is that possible? I thought that wizards came of age at seventeen!"
"That be true, Master. But you be tried by a full Wizengamot at your trial, which is only for
adults, so in all essence, the Ministry declare you as an adult."
"So I can use my wand?" Harry asked, quite excited at the possibility of using his wand
without a warning from the Ministry.
"No, Master can't." This shocked Harry.
"Why not? Just now you said that I was declared an adult, so why can't I use it?" exclaimed
Harry, now even more confused.
Kreacher sneered in clear disdain. "Foolish Master. You be declared adult, true, but that is only
unofficially. You need all papers to be an official adult, and that be when the Ministry removes
the trace from Master's wand."
Harry was quietly thinking of the implications of the Elf's previous statement. He was
unofficially an adult, so if he wanted, he could make decisions for himself and no one could
object without proper reasons. But if he wanted to use his wand – which he did – then he
would have to go to the Ministry and sign official papers. And then the whole world would
know that he was an adult, because the Ministry employees couldn't keep their traps shut.
And he did not want anyone to know this so that they could create obstacles in his path.
Finally, Harry decided that he would continue to use his unofficially declared adult status to his
advantage so that no one else could suspect him for doing things that only adults could do.
"Kreacher, how do you enter the Storage Room?" Harry suddenly asked.
Kreacher hesitated only for a second before answering with a wicked smirk. "You need to tap
your own name of the Family Tree to reveal the door. But new Master's name not be on the
Tree, so he can't open the room."
"We'll see about that," Harry answered dryly as he left the kitchen to return back to the
Drawing Room, where the Black Family Tree was present.
The Black Family Tapestry had been in the family for close to seven centuries. It hung the
entire length of the wall opposite to the fireplace and it looked immensely old; it was faded
and looked quite frayed. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still
glinted brightly enough to show a sprawling Family Tree dating back to as far as the Middle
Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read :
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
'Toujours pur'
Harry was watching the huge tapestry depicting one of the most dangerous families of Dark
Wizards. There were many small, round, charred holes in the tapestry similar to cigarette
burns. These, Harry knew, used to be the names of the Black Family members who were
somewhat decent, who had been later
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Only the dead have seen the end of a war.
We can believe what we choose. But we are answerable for what we choose to
believe.
To save your world, you asked this man to die. Would this man, could he see you
now, ask why?
They are blind leaders of the blind. And if blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the
ditch.
The enemies of Freedom do not ask and argue; they shout and they shoot.
Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it depends on what you put into it.
* * * * * Chapter 5 * * * * *
*|* Revenge *|*
Harry had always dreamed of being free from his relatives since his childhood. While his Aunt
and Uncle did not physically abuse him – that particular honor was reserved for Dudley – their
sharp, cutting words and neglect hurt even more deeply than any beating from Dudley and his
friends would ever have. But he had to survive, and survive he did. He was not much trusting
of anybody, not even people his own age, for he had personally seen what kind of damage
even children could inflict on others; he had been the victim most of the times.
Harry never knew that he was a wizard, and when he had found out that he was not just an
ordinary wizard but a famous one, he had been very happy. But after understanding that the
cost of the fame had been the life of his parents, he had come to resent it. And he knew that
fame was a magnet, a very powerful magnet that attracted trouble. And this trouble could also
cause grievous harm; both to himself and to others.
But over the course of his five-year long stay in the Wizarding World, Harry had seen that
fame and money could get you almost anything you wanted; so long as you played it safe and
played it clean.
For the entire last year, he had been the victim of the Wizarding World's resentment. The
reason for this was an incompetent man and his similarly incompetent Government. Ole
Tommy Boy was another reason. Why couldn't he be a good little Dark Lord, show his face to
the public and terrorize it. But no, Tommy had decided to grow a brain, and had decided to
milk the Ministry's refusal to believe his return to his fullest. (Harry thought that the 'growing
a brain' part must have been because his blood had been used in the Rebirthing Ritual.)
And finally there was the old 'Twinkle Toes' coot who also went by the name of Albus Percival
Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. His name was as long as his beard. The old Headmaster and his
Bird Watching Club had decided (probably since when had Voldemort's return) that he was
probably an interesting species of a bird, and hence they had decided to put watchers to spy
on him.
But one of the Bird Watcher was incompetent, and everyone knew it. Yet he was allowed to do
the watching, even though he had let a poacher slip past once. What was the guarantee that
he would not do so again? Yet he had been allowed back on the bird watching duty. When a
watcher smoked tobacco in a pipe that released clouds of green smoke and smelled heavily of
alcohol, even the dumbest of the dumb creature would realize that they were being observed.
Did they think that the bird was stupid?
If the bird was stupid, it would stay where it was instead of escaping when it could, and then
another – more competent – watcher would arrive and it would not be able to escape any time
soon.
If the bird was intelligent enough, it would escape when it still had the chance during the
stupid watcher's watching shift, and not wait for another one to arrive.
And if the bird was a black haired green eyed teenage wizard, it would take its chance and
have its freedom, but not before it destroyed the stupid watcher that had allowed for a
poacher to almost kill it.
That was the reason why the said teenager, who went by the name of Harry Potter, was
currently standing with a wand in each hand over the body of a man known to the world as
Mundungus Fletcher. Said man was currently occupying an old armchair, under the effects of a
Full-Body Bind Curse, a Binding Spell and a Stunning Spell. Previously, just a few minutes
earlier, the man had been suffering from plant poisoning, and had just been cured before he
had been Stunned.
Hellebore is a plant with magical properties. Many species of Hellebore are poisonous. That is
the reason why Dragon-hide gloves are required for handling the plant. It is mostly used in
the Draught of Peace as an ingredient. In its powder form, it is brown. In its liquid form, more
commonly known as Syrup of Hellebore, it is blue. When it is mixed with distilled water, the
blue color of the Syrup vanished. But the poisonous effects of the Syrup are still as potent as
it is in its Syrup; they just take a lot more time to take effect.
And when Dung Fletcher had greedily drunk the water, he had also ingested a vial full of the
Syrup of Hellebore. But fortunately – or unfortunately, as one might say in the future – the
water had been distilled. So the Syrup's effects took more time to show themselves, but they
still somewhat did.
Syrup of Hellebore is toxic, and can cause symptoms ranging from vertigo to cardiac arrest.
Dung had been just suffering from the primary symptoms of Hellebore poisoning before he
had been fed the antidote, a Bezoar.
A Bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons.
It is very useful in case of plant poisoning, especially if the plant has been ingested, because
the bezoar will be most effective inside the stomach of any creature suffering from poisoning.
The reason for this is that a bezoar inside a goat's stomach protects it from poisons when it
accidentally ingests any poisonous plant while grazing. Hence it will work most effectively if it
is in the stomach of almost any creature suffering from poisons, especially plant poisons.
Since Dung had been poisoned with a plant poison, bezoar was the most effective and easy to
obtain solution currently available. Harry had one in his potion box, but he forgot to take it
with him in all the excitement. (Harry immediately swore to himself that he would not make
such a stupid mistake again.)
It had been an extremely lucky coincidence that he had found the potion box. If he had not,
his plan would have most likely failed, since Dung would have been dead; and he needed the
Dealer right now.
As his thoughts turned towards the potion box, Harry decided to see who the box belonged to.
The thing was obviously very costly, as it was made of high-quality wood and was enchanted
with Undetectable Space-Expansion Charms, and those things were always costly. So it must
have belonged to a member of the Black Family, as most of the Order members did not have
that sort of money, and even if they did, they would not leave such a costly thing lying around
to be wasted. And since it looked old and still the enchantments were still functioning, the
thing would have been extra costly for the more powerful enchantments.
Walking over to the table where the box was currently resting, its lid closed, Harry once again
took the cloth and started dusting it, but stopped when the dust entered his nose, irritating it
and making him sneeze very loudly. Rubbing his nose, Harry threw the cloth away and
decided on using Dung's wand to clean the box. Picking up the wand, Harry thought of a
suitable spell. Then the memory of Neville's Mimbulus Mimbletonia came to his mind and Harry
remembered that embarrassing incident from last year's train journey. He recollected the spell
that Ginny had cast, and remembered it to be a Household Cleaning Charm that Mrs. Weasley
preferred to use in her kitchen.
"Scourgify!"
The dust that covered the entire box vanished in a second. "I love magic," remarked Harry.
Now that the box was clear of dust, Harry could see that it was shinier than he had previously
thought. The wood appeared to be a darker shade now that it was liberated from all the dust.
There were carvings of magical creatures all over the box. But in the centre of the box, visible
for all to see was the Black Family Crest with its family motto 'Toujours pur' carved beneath it.
So his suspicions about the box's owner were true; it indeed belonged to a Black Family
member. But the most curious question was 'Who does the box belong to?'
As Harry opened the lid in order to continue his examination of the potion box, he noticed
something that he had previously missed in his hurry to find a Bezoar. He could see hundred
of vials, and he had been correct in assuming that they contained potion ingredients and
completed potions. But he had been wrong in assuming that they were now clearly past the
maximum time limit for which potions and ingredients could be stored. Although a centimeter-
thick layer of dust had accumulated on it, everything inside the box was perfectly preserved
and ready for use.
And that was when Harry realized another mistake. In his hurry to get the Bezoar to Dung, he
had not checked if the contents of the box were safe for use or not. He once again repeated
his previous promise and thanked Merlin that Bezoars had no such time limit, for in the end
they were just stones; sure, they were antidotes for poisons, but a stone is always a stone.
"That must have been one hell of a Stasis Preservation Spell," muttered Harry to himself as he
once again looked at the box. "Whoever left it here was a fool to not realize its worth."
Looking at the box's contents, Harry saw many potions he did not yet know the names of. But
there were many other potions in here that shocked him. He had no idea who left this thing,
but whoever it was, Merlin bless his soul. The person had just made Harry's quest a lot easier.
There were multiple bottles of Polyjuice Potions, Veritaserum, Ageing Potion, Dreamless Sleep
Potion, Blood-Replenishing Potion, Pepper up Potion, Skele-Gro, Murtlap Essence, Bruise
Removal Paste, Wound-Healing Potion and many other made potions that he could not
identify. There were also small boxes and flasks full of ingredients used in potions. There were
many others he could not identify as they had not been studied yet.
On seeing all these vials of pre-made potions, Harry suspected that the owner of the box must
have been constantly involved in some fighting if he required such a vast array of potions to
be available at a moments notice.
"Well, whoever it was, thank you. You certainly did me a huge favor," said Harry as he
continued gazing at the box, his mind filling up with the ideas of how he could use these
potions for his own goals.
Deciding to keep the box, Harry was about to close it when he noticed a tag being stuck to the
inside of the box's lid. On it, written in a slightly slanting but neat handwriting, was the name
of the owner.
This potion box belongs to
REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK

Of Slytherin House
As he tried to recollect where he had heard that particular name, Harry suddenly remembered
what he had come here for in the first place.
Swiftly opening the box, Harry quickly snatched a vial of Veritaserum, along with a dropper for
administering precisely three drops. Picking up Dung's wand from its place on the table, he
made his way over to his Stunned victim.
Opening the cork of the vial, Harry put the dropper inside and extracted a small amount of the
Ministry-controlled powerful Truth Serum known as Veritaserum. As Snape had once informed
him, "It is Veritaserum – a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling
your innermost secrets."
Holding his breath, Harry opened Dung's mouth and gently squeezing the dropper, he allowed
exactly three drops to fall on the thief's tongue. Closing the thing, Harry waited for a few
moments before deciding to wake the man up. It was time for the interrogation to begin.
'Let's get ready to rumble!' as Michael Buffer would say. Wand pointed at the Stunned man,
he cast the counter-curse to the Stunning Spell.
"Rennervate!"
There was a flash of red light and Dung's eyes opened slowly; they were slightly glazed over.
Recognizing the effects of the Veritaserum from fourth year, Harry proceeded with his
questioning.
"What is your full name?" questioned Harry, beginning the interrogation with the most basic
question.
"Mundungus Fabian Fletcher," answered Dung, his voice dull and flat, his face slacked and his
gaze unfocused.
"What is the name of the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters?" was the next question.
"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," Dung muttered.
"Who were you guarding today?" Harry asked the final identity-confirmation question.
"A boy. Name's Harry James Potter," came the reply.
"Why did you have the Portkey to the old Headquarters with you?" asked Harry, curious to
know if his hunch about the thief was correct.
"The Por'key was with me so that I could come 'ere when the place 'as empty."
"Why?" Harry repeated.
"So that I could loot the place. Thos' fools of Dumbles' Order don' realize the worth of this
place. If ah sell all the things in here, I coul' make thousands of Galleons," Dung said.
"To whom were you going to sell them?" queried Harry.

"The Goblins first, 'cause they give a fair price, but there is a lot of paper'ork. If not Goblins,
then to Wiseacre in Diagon. Then ah coul' sell them to the Burgin's bloke in 'nockturn. But that
guy gives 'ery less money."
"Name your contacts. No, wait a minute," Harry said, while he searched the room for a quill
and parchment. Finding some on the desk near the window, along with a nearly empty inkpot,
Harry quickly rushed back to Dung so that he could note down the names; these could be
useful to him in future.
"Start speaking," said Harry, his quill poised over the parchment to start writing.
"Ah don' 'ave any," came the dull answer.
"What?" exclaimed Harry. "You have no contacts?"
"No."
"Then what the fuck do you do in the Order?" asked Harry incredulously.
"I listen to tha talk in 'nockturn. That place is always full of weird people," replied Dung.
"Dumbledore also assigns me Guard duty when I 'ave any free time. 'E's tha only one who
supports me in tha Order."
"Why?"
"'E thinks ah am loyal to him. Ah only listen to him 'cause I owe 'im a Life Debt. And he 'as
called on it, so I'm obligated to 'elp him an' his Order. And he can give me protection if I need
it."
"Would you betray the Order, and leave them if there is a fight?" asked Harry, his voice
deceptively calm.
"My life comes first. I'll do anythin' to save maself," Dung muttered. "An' I never signed up to
be slaughtered by You-Know-Who. I'm not stupid."
"Yes, we were the stupid ones to trust you," hissed Harry, carefully trying to control his anger,
because he knew that if he lost control and killed Dung, his plan would be foiled. And now that
he knew about Fletcher's position in the war, Harry knew that Dung would be next to useless
in the Order. And since he had revealed his loyalties, Harry knew he would not have any
qualms about killing the thieving traitor now. To use the old coot's favorite phrase, 'It's for the
greater good!'
"Give me the names of all the important Death Eaters that you know," Harry commanded.
"And tell me of the communication spells that the Order uses in emergency."
Fletcher gave all the names he knew of, which were quite a few. Harry recognized a lot of
them from the Graveyard. Dung also informed Harry of the special spell the Order members
used to communicate, which Harry found was a different version of the Patronus, in which the
Patronus Guardian carried the message to the recipient. He had asked for it so that he could
send a message to anyone if he found out that their lives were in jeopardy.
Harry also asked Fletcher to give him the locations of where he hid all his money and other
valuables. The reply shocked Harry.
"Ah hide ma things in tha Kitchen of the old Headquarters, as no one visits the place now.
Only tha ruddy 'Ouse Elf is 'ere now."
So the old House Elf was here, huh? Harry was no longer angry at Kreacher and did not blame
him for his Godfather's death; no, he now pitied the Elf. As Dumbledore had said to him last
year, Kreacher was what he was made by wizards. I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as
a being with feeling as acute as a human's, were Dumbledore's words. Sirius had never been
kind to the old Elf Harry knew that, and just like Dobby, Kreacher too resented his Master.
Both Dobby and Kreacher were similar in that regard.
Now that he had no further use of Fletcher, Harry looked at the thief and said, "Well, it's been
a pleasure knowing you, Mundungus Fletcher. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your wand,
do you? I'm sure that you will have no further need of it, and it can help me a great deal until
I acquire another proper wand. So goodbye. And do say my hello to the Devil. Also, tell him to
book some people, because they are soon going to need a new place of residence : Hell."
With that, Harry raised his 'newly acquired' wand and once again Stunned Fletcher. Oh, no,
death wasn't going to take him so soon. He would die slowly as a payment for his mistakes.
Harry Potter does not forget; and he definitely does not forgive.
The Kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was in the basement and accessible through a
narrow staircase at the end of the entrance hallway. The kitchen was a cavernous room with a
large fireplace at one end and a large wooden table in the centre. There was also a large
pantry and a small room used by Kreacher as a bedroom.
And currently, Harry was standing in the said kitchen and searching for the loot that Fletcher
hid in the room. As he slowly searched the entire room, Harry noticed that there was nothing
ever remotely looking like a treasure. He was sure that Fletcher could not lie under the
influence of the Veritaserum, so the loot must be here in the kitchen. But it was not there and
Harry knew that no other Order member would be foolish enough to visit this place without
the old reprobate's orders. So there was no chance of anyone else stealing the stolen goods.
Unless. . .
"Kreacher!" called out Harry, hoping that the old Elf was still in his small room, though he
knew that Kreacher might not answer his call as he was not family.
There was a loud crack and the old House Elf appeared; his snout-like nose, large bat's ears
and enormous bloodshot eyes were still the same, as well as the ever-present filthy rags that
he wore as clothes.
"What does Master need?" croaked Kreacher, and he bowed low, muttering to himself, "Filthy
half-blood, back in my Mistress's house, sullying the house with his presence."
Harry for his part was shocked. Kreacher had called him 'Master' and he had heard his call.
Still shocked, Harry heard what Kreacher was muttering to himself.
"Shut up, Kreacher," said Harry, his tone serious.
Kreacher immediately quieted, which again surprised. He knew that Kreacher had only
followed Sirius's orders because he had no other choice; the Elf did not even listen to Tonks's
orders, and the Metamorphmagus was a part of the family, though not on the Family Tree.
Deciding to ponder on that later, Harry continued with what he had initially summoned
Kreacher for.
"Kreacher, where are all the valuables that Mundungus Fletcher brought to this Kitchen?"
asked Harry.
At first Kreacher looked like he wouldn't answer, but then he started speaking. "Thief Fletcher
hides all the things here. But the thief tries to steal the Family things, and Kreacher does not
like that. So when he goes away, Kreacher hide it all in the Storage Room of the house."
"And where is this Storage Room?" Harry asked, wanting to see for himself if there was
anything useful there.
Now Kreacher was struggling very hard and it was clear that he did not want to answer the
question. But he had to follow his Master's orders and so he answered, "Storage Room lies
behind the Family Tapestry."
"Then how come Sirius never knew about it?" Harry asked, as he knew that his Godfather had
no knowledge of said room. If he had any clue about it, Sirius would have done his level best
to get rid of everything inside the room.
Kreacher had by now quit struggling and was answering the questions as best as he could.
"Manor Magic hides it from everyone. Only family knows."
Harry was puzzled; wasn't his Godfather a Black? So he asked the old Elf, "But Sirius was a
Black, wasn't he?"
"Old Master indeed be a Black, but he be disowned. So he is family only in name," said
Kreacher as he looked up at Harry.
"But why didn't he know of the room's existence?" queried Harry as he seated himself in a
kitchen chair so that he could look Kreacher in the eye while speaking.
Kreacher too decided to sit follow his Master and sat down on the floor. "Only adults of family
know of the place. Old Master leave the house before he be an adult. So he does not know."
Harry was in deep thought. "So why are you telling me?"
"Because you are now Master and you be an adult since last year."
The answer startled Harry. He had no knowledge of such things; he thought he was still
underage. "How is that possible? I thought that wizards came of age at seventeen!"
"That be true, Master. But you be tried by a full Wizengamot at your trial, which is only for
adults, so in all essence, the Ministry declare you as an adult."
"So I can use my wand?" Harry asked, quite excited at the possibility of using his wand
without a warning from the Ministry.
"No, Master can't." This shocked Harry.
"Why not? Just now you said that I was declared an adult, so why can't I use it?" exclaimed
Harry, now even more confused.
Kreacher sneered in clear disdain. "Foolish Master. You be declared adult, true, but that is only
unofficially. You need all papers to be an official adult, and that be when the Ministry removes
the trace from Master's wand."
Harry was quietly thinking of the implications of the Elf's previous statement. He was
unofficially an adult, so if he wanted, he could make decisions for himself and no one could
object without proper reasons. But if he wanted to use his wand – which he did – then he
would have to go to the Ministry and sign official papers. And then the whole world would
know that he was an adult, because the Ministry employees couldn't keep their traps shut.
And he did not want anyone to know this so that they could create obstacles in his path.
Finally, Harry decided that he would continue to use his unofficially declared adult status to his
advantage so that no one else could suspect him for doing things that only adults could do.
"Kreacher, how do you enter the Storage Room?" Harry suddenly asked.
Kreacher hesitated only for a second before answering with a wicked smirk. "You need to tap
your own name of the Family Tree to reveal the door. But new Master's name not be on the
Tree, so he can't open the room."
"We'll see about that," Harry answered dryly as he left the kitchen to return back to the
Drawing Room, where the Black Family Tree was present.
The Black Family Tapestry had been in the family for close to seven centuries. It hung the
entire length of the wall opposite to the fireplace and it looked immensely old; it was faded
and looked quite frayed. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still
glinted brightly enough to show a sprawling Family Tree dating back to as far as the Middle
Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read :
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
'Toujours pur'
Harry was watching the huge tapestry depicting one of the most dangerous families of Dark
Wizards. There were many small, round, charred holes in the tapestry similar to cigarette
burns. These, Harry knew, used to be the names of the Black Family members who were
somewhat decent, who had been later disowned.
Examining the Family Tree, Harry saw many names that he recognized from the school. But
what he was currently searching for was the name he had read on the box : 'Regulus Arcturus
Black.'
There was one Regulus, but his middle name was not the same. There was also one Arcturus
too, but that had been someone's first name. Searching a bit further, Harry nearly reached the
bottom of the Family Tree, and he saw that there was one name that matched the one on the
box. And Harry was surprised to see that the one name belonged to Sirius's brother, who
Sirius according to Sirius had been a Slytherin and also a Death Eater.
. . . "I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to". . .
. . . "My idiot brother, soft enough to believe them". . .
. . . "No, he was murdered by the Dark Lord". . .
As Harry traced the line from Regulus to Sirius, he noticed that there was something new on
the tree. Though Sirius's name was still charred, now there was a bright silver line connecting
his Godfather to something else. And that something was a name. More specifically, it was his
name.
The name Harry James Potter was glowing brightly in the wand light and it was connected with
a silvery thread to the name Sirius Orion Black. And his name was again connected to another
name on the Black Family Tree with a dull golden thread. The name read Dorea Andromeda
Black, which was connected by a double line to Charlus Percival Potter.
Harry searched for the name of his parents in hurry but he could not see them. Desperately
trying to under the situation, he quickly called Kreacher.
"Yes, Master, how may Kreacher serve?" Kreacher asked, his head bowed so low that it nearly
touched the floor.
"Kreacher, why is my name on the tree?" asked Harry urgently.
Kreacher looked up in shock. "Master's name on the tree? Master cannot be on the tree!
Kreacher must see!" shouted the Elf as he quickly rushed forward to look at the tree. Harry
just watched in shock as Kreacher intently studied the Family Tree.
"This not be possible! You be Mistress Dorea's grandson! Kreacher's mother used to tell him
about her. She be a good Mistress. She be married to your grandfather Master Charlus, and
now you be her grandson. And since you be Old Master's Godson and Heir, you be in the
family, and you be the last Black!"
"How is that possible?"
"Black Family only has male Heirs. When a female marries out of family, they be not
considered as potential Heirs, as they could betray the family secrets. Old Master be the last
Black before you, and since you be the Godson of the last male Black, and also have Black
blood in you, now you be the last Black. Now you be the New Master!" exclaimed Kreacher, his
eyes alight with joy.
"So the Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestranges will never get their hands on the Black Family
things?" asked Harry, wanting to make sure that his enemies got nothing from him if he died.
Kreacher looked a little sad, but he still had the happy glimmer in his eyes. "No, they do not,
as they be from cadet branch, they married out of family and because they be females."
That was when Kreacher noticed the other person in the room. "Master, the thief Fletcher be
here."
"Yes, I know that, Kreacher. I was the one who tied him up," said Harry, running his hand
through his messy hair.
"May Kreacher as why, Master?" the Elf asked, his voice now curious.
"I nearly died because of him last year, Kreacher," said Harry, eyeing Fletcher with distaste.
"He also does not care about the Order, or anyone else for that matter. And he was also going
to steal everything from this house tonight. So I poisoned him, cured him, questioned him and
Stunned him. I'll dispose him off later. He is of no further use to me."
"Master now talks like a true Black! Master Orion once told Kreacher : Take their money and
then kill them," said Kreacher his voice filled with awe. Then he continued, his tone hopeful,
"Kreacher likes the new Master. He would like to help. It will be an honor to serve you.
Kreacher will also talk to Mistress to allow him to have the Black Family Heirlooms. They will
help protect new Master."
Harry had never expected to hear Kreacher talking to anyone respectfully, and he had never
expected such an offer. But he would be a fool if he refused. He knew that though the Blacks
were an old Pureblood Family, they did not have much in terms of monetary assets. What they
did have was a wide range of ancient and powerful artifacts that they had collected over the
centuries. And they also had contacts in various places. The family was considered powerful
because the Black name itself carried a weight that a few others had.
The Malfoys were rich, true, but they were nothing compared to the Blacks. Even the Dark
Lord had respected them, as he had not killed Orion and Walburga Black when they had not
joined his cause directly. He had killed many powerful Purebloods who did not join him, but
even he did not dare kill the two elder Blacks. Regulus had been killed only because at the
time of his death, both of the elder Blacks were dead. And now even though the many
contacts of the Black family had perished, the small amount of money and the large number of
artifacts were still as good as ever.
And this was what Harry was going to use. Now that Kreacher was eager to serve him, the Elf
could convince the portrait of the old Black Matriarch that by helping him, she could avenge
the death of her two sons; as the Dark Lord had not kept his word about not killing any
members of the Black Family.
If Harry was allowed to speak to her, he had a very good idea about how he could persuade
her to help him. Walburga had been of the main Black line and she knew that the cadet branch
lines were always looking for an opportunity to kill the main line so that they could become
the new main line. If he convinced her that Narcissa and Bellatrix had killed Sirius, and that
they had also convinced their Master to kill the youngest Black Heir, Regulus – who had been
her favorite son – so that their branch line could take over as the prominent Black line,
Walburga would be pissed and she would demand their heads on a silver platter. And if she
was led to believe that to fulfill her wish, she would have to help him in obtaining all the useful
help he could get, she would do it. Though a portrait, she had been given all the memories of
the long-dead Walburga Black, and so she had the knowledge as to where the powerful
Heirlooms were concealed.
"Kreacher, do you know where the Black Heirlooms are?" Harry inquired.
"They be in the Storage Room. Blacks do not trust Goblins. Goblins be good in business, but
they be no good in keeping secrets. The Black Vault only contains some money and less useful
things. Older Masters hide everything in the Storage Room, even the money," said Kreacher,
his tone now respectful.
"Well, we can do that after we dispose this filth," Harry said, looking towards the thief in
distaste.
"Can Kreacher help, Master?" asked the Elf excitedly, before adding, "Thief tries to kill new
Master, and Kreacher do not like that."
Harry hummed to himself thoughtfully, but did not answer. On one hand, he wanted to kill the
cretin with his own hands, or with magic. On the other hand, he did not want to dirty his hand
or wand by touching the thief. He could always dose him with the most painful poison. But
that would just kill him easily with little suffering. And Harry wanted him to suffer.
Wandering over to the potion box with Kreacher following him, Harry said to the Elf, "This box
belonged to Regulus, Kreacher. And it has many useful potions. Do you know why it is filled
with these potions?"
"Master Regulus was very intelligent and cunning. He always left on trips and came back with
many new boxes. Kreacher not know what they contain, but they be in the Storage Room if
Master wants to see them," Kreacher replied, his voice melancholy.
Harry did not know if Kreacher and Mrs. Black knew that Regulus had been killed by the Dark
Lord. So to assuage his curiosity, he asked, "Kreacher, do you know who killed Regulus?"
"No, Master. Kreacher only knows that Master Regulus went out one day and did not come
back. And then Kreacher saw the Tapestry and it told him that Master was dead," said
Kreacher softly, his eyes brimming with tears.
"Regulus was killed by Voldemort, Kreacher. Voldemort betrayed the Black Family," said
Harry, his voice so low that it was almost not audible.
"No," whispered Kreacher in horror, "No, that is not possible! Master Regulus was a loyal
follower! Why would the Dark Lord kill beloved Master Regulus?"
"That I do not know, Kreacher. But I do know that Voldemort killed Regulus because he had
learnt some of the Dark Lord's secrets; ones that Voldemort never told anyone about. That
must be why Voldemort killed him," said Harry, and while that was not true, it was also not an
outright lie. There must have been a reason why Tommy chose to kill Regulus, and with that
break his promise.
Kreacher just stared at the Tapestry wall, a few tears escaping his eyes at the thought of his
beloved Master Regulus. (Harry turned away so that he did not have to watch the old Elf cry.)
But then Kreacher's tears stopped and his eyes darkened in hatred. His Master and his family
had been betrayed by the Dark Lord, of whom they had all thought of as a great wizard. But
he had turned out to be an oath-breaker. He had killed Kreacher's Master once, but Kreacher
would not allow the Dark Lord to kill his new Master. With an oath to help his new Master in
any way he could, Kreacher once again turned to Harry.
Meanwhile, Harry had been busy rummaging through the potion box, looking for something.
Finally letting out a sound of satisfaction, he pulled out his hand out of the box. In his hand
was a flask filled with a yellowish green liquid, the stopper made of brown wood. The bottle
was enchanted to be unbreakable.
Harry handed the flask to Kreacher, who gingerly took it, being very careful in not opening or
dropping it.
"Kreacher, what I want you to do is feed the contents of this flask to Fletcher. Then leave him
in Knockturn Alley where someone can find him," ordered Harry.
"Master will not kill the thief?" asked the Elf, disappointed.
Harry smirked. "Oh, no, Kreacher. By the time anyone finds him, he will be dead. I just want
to send this body as a warning to all of the Wizarding World. They have to get their morgue
and Hospital prepared. Because we'll be sending them many others in time."
Kreacher also smirked. "Master is very good. Master's enemy shall fall. Kreacher will help as
much as he can."
Harry looked at Dung. Though he knew that there were very few chances of Fletcher surviving
this, but he would not take chances. Pulling out Dung's wand, Harry pointed it at its owner.
"Rennervate!"
The thief woke up with a jerk. As he tried to collect his thoughts, he opened his eyes to see
the tip of his wand pointed between his eyes. Going cross-eyed to keep it in sight, he did not
see the holder of the wand mouthing a spell.
"Obliviate!"
There was a brief flash as a bolt of bluish-green light and hit Dung right between the eyes.
The man's eyes went blank as his entire mind was erased by the Memory Charm. Now he was
nothing more than a vegetable, which was not a demotion from what he was before.
'Thank you, Lockhart, even if you were a peacock,' Harry thought to himself.
"Kreacher, you may proceed. Also, do me a favor and remove the traces of all magic being
used on him."
Kreacher did exactly what he was told to do. With a snap of his finger, a dim white light
covered the thief before vanishing; removing all magical traces being used on Dung. Gripping
the man's tattered cloak in one hand, Kreacher bowed to his Master before disappearing from
the Drawing Room with Mundungus Fletcher.
Smirking to himself, Harry had only one thought in mind.
Watch out, Wizarding World, there is a Hunter in town.
AN : No, Regulus did not learn about the Horcrux, though the Locket and the cave still exist.
They will be included in my story. What he learnt was something else, and you will know what
it is shortly. But you can always keep guessing.
Harry is still learning and is prone to make mistakes. He may also come off as cruel, but he is
cruel only to enemies. That is a requirement for a Hunter. And this is not a "Harry goes to
Goblins and gets money from parents and Sirius and many others" story. Miss Rowling herself
said that Blacks, Potters and Malfoys were wealthy families. And that is what I am using.
In this story, Kreacher is a bit similar to Dobby. He is loyal, but he uses his common sense.
Meaning that instead of jumping to take a knife in his chest, Kreacher will instead use his
magic to deflect the knife. But Dobby will be entering the story too; it will just take some time.
And he will also be a bit more intelligent.
Can someone guess what was in the flask?
I know that I promised an omake in this chapter, but I have decided that I will make it a
separate story and also add a few of my other written omakes.
Also, thank you for all the reviews. I hope that you like this chapter. To new readers, please
read the whole story and tell me if you have enjoyed it. Please Review!
I would also like to hear your opinions about possible pairings. I have a few in mind, but I
would still like to know who you would like with Hunter Harry. Also, should Harry have single
relationship or multiple? And please, no slash; I just can't write it.

Review this Chapter
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
A mind is not a bed to be made and remade.
Seek and you shall find what you want.

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
However harmless a thing is, if the law forbids it most people will think it wrong.
Knowledge may give weight, but accomplishments give luster, and many more
people see than weigh.
An injury is much sooner forgotten than an insult.
What good is an ounce of justice in an ocean of shit?
* * * * * Chapter 6 * * * * *
*|* The Black Family *|*
When Walburga Black had been alive, she had been a happy woman. Her husband Orion Black
was a very successful business man and her father-in-law – Arcturus Black III – had been
awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class for 'services to the Ministry'. In truth, he had given a
bribe to the Minister to ignore the current uprising in the Pureblood faction, and to also turn a
blind eye on the actions of their charismatic leader, who went by the name of Lord Voldemort.
After her husband's father had passed away – in 1960, sleeping peacefully in his bed – her
husband had been the oldest Black of the main line and hence in command of the family. She
and her husband had united all the branches of the Black Family in feud with each other and
brought the other cadet branch lines into the inner fold so that they could fill the ranks of the
rising Dark Lord in order to rid the world of all the Mudblood filth and the blood traitor scum,
so that the Purebloods could take their rightful place as the unquestionable rulers of the whole
world. They would kill all the Muggle scum and enslave the Mudblood and blood traitors. They
would rid the world of all the half-breed monsters so that this world would become cleaner and
better. They would make this world a Heaven for the Purebloods.
Orion and Walburga Black had been the leaders of the Black Family and everyone respected
and feared them. The Black name – which was already formidable – had become even more
feared when Orion and Walburga took the reins of the Black Family. Using the resources
available to them, both of them had helped the Pureblood cause in any way they could.
When their two sons – Sirius and Regulus – had been born, the two elder Blacks had been
elated. They now had two Heirs who would bring wealth and renown to the family. But their
eldest had turned out to be a disappointment. The first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor
house at Hogwarts in centuries, Sirius had brought great shame to the family, especially to his
parents.
But when Regulus had entered Hogwarts, he had been sorted into Slytherin. Walburga had
been sure that it would be Regulus who would succeed her and Orion. He had been such a
talented boy. Good at Quidditch, an expert Potioneer and an above average student, Regulus
had all the qualities required to be a Black Heir. Sirius on the other had been a scoundrel,
wrecking havoc all over the castle with his idiotic Gryffindor friends.
At sixteen years of age, Sirius had run away from the family, and in her fit of anger, she had
blown his name from the Family Tree, disowned him and forbade any Black Family member
from communicating with the traitor.
But then tragedy had struck in the year 1977, when Orion had suddenly died one night in his
sleep. He had been a healthy person, and he had displayed no signs of any maladies affecting
him. So no one knew why he had suddenly passed away in sleep. Now Walburga had been left
with the responsibility of the Family Head. She had agreed and she continued to look after the
family, taking special care of her precious son Regulus, for she knew that he was the only
hope for the main line to survive. She had to protect him from everyone.
When he was sixteen, Regulus had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's
strongest supporters, the Pureblood Elite. Though Walburga had been happy to see her son
happy, inside she was numb, as if she had been petrified. There had been a reason why she
and her husband had not joined the ranks of the Dark Lord, even though they had supported
him. There had been a reason why both of them had united the Black Family cadet branches
and had encouraged them to join the Dark Lord's ranks.
Walburga and Orion knew that by joining the Death Eaters, they would set themselves up
against the Ministry. And it was the Ministry that controlled the Auror forces, not the Dark
Lord. They were Purebloods, and they also believed in the blood purity, but they were not
stupid. That was why – knowing that joining the Dark Lord's ranks meant certain death or
imprisonment – they had urged the other Black Family members to join the Dark Lord in his
quest for power.
Family. . . It was true that those others had been family, but those same family members had
tried to kill her parents, in-laws, her husband and herself, nearly succeeding many times. She
still didn't know if the death of Orion and Arcturus had been natural or if they had been
murdered.
But now her beloved son Regulus had joined them. He had not informed her of his decision to
join them. Yes, while it was true that she knew of his desire to serve the Dark Lord and be a
Death Eater, she did not know that he would make such an important decision without
consulting with her. And she was not sure if she felt any surprise that the Dark Lord had
branded him with the Dark Mark as soon as the boy had expressed his desire to join the
cause.
Orion had always suspected that the Dark Lord was after the Black Family resources to fund
his war and to further increase his own powers. In the beginning, Arcturus Black III had
supported the Dark Lord because the powerful wizard truly desired for the Purebloods to be
the rulers of the world. But when Orion and Walburga had witnessed to what lengths the man
was willing to go to obtain power, they had decided that they could not allow him to get his
hands on the family's vast trove of magical artifacts. If the man won on his own, then they
would present him with some of the less useful artifacts to appease him. If he did not, that
would only prove to them that the man did not have the capability to win this war and lead the
Purebloods into a new era. It was true that they wanted the Purebloods to be the most
powerful, but that did not mean that they wished to slaughter innocent children. Children were
sacred to the Black Family, as there were so few. And when they had seen the Dark Lord kill a
child so that he could torment the parents, Orion and Walburga Black had decided that they
would not allow the Dark Lord to get his hands on the family fortune.
Regulus had now given the Dark Lord a perfect opportunity to exploit the Black Family, and
Walburga knew that if she or Regulus refused, her son would be killed.
She had already lost one of her son, she did not want to lose another.
Suddenly, one day, she was surprised when Kreacher – her faithful House Elf – suddenly
appeared in the room, with his eyes brimming with tears as he looked at her.
"Mistress. . . " whispered Kreacher, his voice filled with despair.
"What has happened, Kreacher?" asked Walburga, feeling suddenly very apprehensive about
what news awaited her.
"Mistress, Kreacher be cleaning the Family Tapestry just now when Kreacher saw. . . Kreacher
saw. . . " he stopped speaking as tears leaked out of his eyes, "Young Master Regulus is dead,
Mistress!"
With a loud crack! Kreacher disappeared from the room, leaving a shocked Black Family
Matriarch behind.
Walburga could not believe what she had just heard. No, it could not be possible. Regulus
couldn't be dead. . . No, it just wasn't possible. . . No. . .
Tears leaked out from the corners of her eyes as she tried to control her grief. Her son was
dead. . . Her beloved Regulus was dead. . .
A loud cry of despair, grief and sorrow echoed all around the room. It was heard all over the
empty house as Walburga let her grief at the loss of her precious son be known.
He had been killed by someone. Someone had killed her dearest son Regulus. And she had an
inkling of who had done the deed. But she needed to verify her doubts in she wanted to
proceed with her plans.
"Kreacher!"
The devoted House Elf appeared at once at her summons. He had a black towel wrapped
around, his own way of mourning Regulus's death. Looking at her servant, Walburga knew
that she would indeed need his services for what she wanted.
"Kreacher, have you been delivered Regulus's body? Did anyone bring my son's body back to
us?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress. His body was near the Manor's entrance way, outside the Wards' range.
Kreacher cleaned it up and let it rest in Master's room."
"Very good, Kreacher. You may go," said Walburga, and soon the Elf disappeared with a
crack!
Deciding to confirm her suspicions, Walburga left to check on her son's body. When she
arrived at his door, she hesitated briefly before entering the room. Seeing her son's body, she
nearly lost her composure, but somehow she steeled herself and moved to him.
Slowly drawing her wand, she waved her wand over his body while muttering a Diagnosing
Spell over him so that she could check for any residual spells or traces of magical poisons that
may have been responsible for his death. What she found shocked her. There was no poison
residue inside his body yet he had no residual magic of any spell on his body. It appeared as if
he had died naturally. Just like her husband and father-in-law. And now she was even more
suspicious about Him.
Concluding that it would be for the best, she decided to move to Number Twelve Grimmauld
Place, the magical stronghold of the main family, which had been enchanted with many
powerful spells by her ancestors and had been strengthened by her father-in-law and
husband. The place had been build to be the family's safe house in the time of crisis. And now
was certainly such a time.
Preparing her son's body for burial in the Black Family Graveyard, Walburga thought about
what she should do regarding Sirius. Though he had ran away, he was now the main line's
only hope. He had been disowned – so he could not be brought back to the family again – and
now she needed an Heir. Though she wished she could make Sirius an Heir, she knew that it
was not possible. But suddenly she had idea. She had disowned Sirius, but she had not
declared that any child by him could never be a Black. So she would make it so that Sirius's
child and Heir would become the Heir of the main line. But first she had to make sure that the
child was not as foolish as her son had been, otherwise the family was doomed. She would
make him pass through a magical test and a mental test before she gave him access to the
Black Family secrets. The child would be the Heir, and he would avenge her son. He would use
the family resources to bring the family back to the top of the Pureblood Hierarchy.
And for that purpose, Walburga Black decided to leave a portrait to carry out her wishes. The
portrait would guide the child to save the family from its fate. Even before a powerful Dark
Wizard who they had once supported, the Black Family would not admit defeat. The Heir
would permanently end the threat to the Black Family's continuity.
'The Dark Lord will not get away with this!' she swore this one the grave of her son. 'The Black
Family will have its revenge!'
When Walburga had been alive, she had been a very intelligent and cunning woman. Right
now at the moment she was a portrait; a talking-shouting-insulting portrait, true, but a
portrait all the same. But her portrait had been given all her life memories and had been
enchanted to follow the wishes of the Black Matriarch. Her aim was to find the Black Heir and
test him. If he was good enough, she would tell him her secrets so that he could bring the
Black Family to her former glory.
Her current place of residence – Number Twelve Grimmauld Place – had been infected with
cretins, and she had even seen Dumbledore in her family's stronghold. They had been talking
of the Dark Lord's return. Walburga had been surprised, but she was not shocked. She knew
that he would come back. He had done many Dark Rituals to make his body powerful, so that
he would not die easily.
Sirius knew of this house as the family had lived here for nearly ten years when Sirius had
been born, before they had moved to the Black Manor so that no one would know of this
place. But now that fool had brought his companions into the house that her family had been
trying to hide from everyone.
Sirius did not know what this house was concealing inside its special Security Vaults. This
house was the Black Family's stronghold for a reason. The idiot had assumed that since this
house was hidden with powerful spells, he could bring anyone here and they would be safe.
The fool hadn't known that he would need her permission before he could take controls of the
more powerful Wards that protected the house. She was the one who currently controlled all
the Wards and right now they were functioning at a bare minimum. When they were fully
activated, they could stop an Army from attacking the place. They had needed such powerful
Wards as this house was the place where the Black Family hid all its wealth and prized
possessions, ever since the house had been purchased.
Then that old fool Dumbledore had arrived. He had cast many spells on the house and tied
them to himself. Didn't the old fool know that layering Wards on someone else's house and
not tying them to the house and owners would slowly degrade the Wards? And the old dumb
fool thought he was so clever when he had hidden the house. What if he died? Then the spells
would fade as they were not tied with the house.
The house had become a hive, all manners of idiots buzzing around the place. One plump
woman was trying to clear the house. There was a thief snooping all over the house trying to
find things to steal; as if she would allow filth like him to touch the costly goblets belonging to
her family for over five centuries. Then there was this one young woman who kept tripping all
over the Troll leg umbrella stand in the hallway, which had a Tripping Jinx on it. And they said
she was an Auror! If these were how Aurors were now, then the quality and standards of the
Auror Academy had fallen quite a lot. There were many other kinds of filthy beasts crawling all
over the house of her ancestors.
Her portrait kept screaming obscenities at them so that they would leave her house, because
if this was really the Order of the Phoenix – Dumbledore's secret organization – then the Dark
Lord would find out about them, and through them about this house. And if this house fell in
the Dark Lord's hands, then there would be no stopping him, not without loss of many lives.
And there was no sign of Sirius's Heir. She knew that he did not have a child, but she did
know that he had a Godson. But there was no new name on the Family Tree to tell her if Sirius
had any possible Heirs.
Then one day she heard the news that Sirius was dead, and the Order was now leaving the
house. There was not much sadness felt by her on hearing the news. She knew that she had
never loved her son as she should have, but she had realized her mistake very late. Her son
had started hating her and with her the entire Black Family. And now there was no hope for
the main line Black Family to continue. Now all the power would secede to her brother. She
too had been from the cadet branch line, but she had married into the main line, therefore she
had been counted as a member of the main line by marriage. As such, she had no wish for the
power to pass from the main line to a powerful branch family. But since Orion had no siblings,
the power would pass to her siblings, as she had been the Head after her husband's death.
Now Cygnus would be the leader of the Blacks.
And Cygnus could use the power of the Black Family and if he wanted, he could give away the
entire family fortune to other families like the Malfoys and Lestranges, who had always envied
and hungered for the wealth and power of the Blacks. But more than that, the power would be
at the Dark Lord's fingertips to command, since Lestranges and Malfoys were the loyal
supporters of the Dark Lord. And she had sworn on her son's grave that she would not allow
that to happen.
Walburga was disturbed out of her musing as she heard a loud crack! She opened her painted
eyes to look at the interrupter. She saw that Kreacher, her ever loyal Elf, was standing before
her with his eyes very bright. She had not seen the old Elf so happy since Regulus's death.
"What has happened, Kreacher?" she asked.
"Kreacher has found the New Master, Mistress! Kreacher found the last Black! Kreacher be so
happy! New Master be very good! He be a true Black, Mistress!"
At last Merlin had heard her dying wish and presented her with an Heir. If she had been alive,
she would have been jumping in joy at the news.
"Who is it, Kreacher? Is he powerful?" she asked, wondering if her Heir would survive if the
Dark Lord attacked him.
"Oh yes, Mistress! New Master be very powerful! He already defeats the Dark Lord many
times! He be very cunning, just like a true Black!" exclaimed Kreacher, a wide smile on his
face.
On hearing that the Heir was cunning and that he had fought the Dark Lord, Walburga felt
very relieved. At least she would not have to worry about him getting himself killed. He could
survive anything if he survived the Dark Lord.
"What is his name, Kreacher? And where is he?"
"His grandmother be Dorea Black, who married Charlus Potter. His name be Harry James
Potter. He be old Master Sirius's Godson. He be the Boy Who Lived, Mistress!"
Learning that the boy was the grandson of Aunt Dorea, Walburga was happy to note that the
Heir had Black blood in him, and that too from the main line of the family, which was very
good in her books. The Potters were an old Pureblood family, not as old as the Blacks, but
definitely as famous as the Blacks, so that would do too. She was surprised to know that the
child was Harry Potter, the one who had initially defeated the Dark Lord for the first time. But
she had not known that the boy was Sirius's Godson. In his death at least, her son had done
something for the benefit of his family. Now through his Godson, her family would have a
chance to become the prominent and powerful family that it once had been.
"Where is he, Kreacher? I wish to speak with him. Bring him to me," the portrait ordered
imperiously.
"Master is in the Drawing Room at the moment, Mistress. He be dealing with the thief Fletcher.
And then Kreacher got to feed him poison and then Master tell Kreacher to leave the body in
Knockturn Alley," said Kreacher, his body quivering with excitement. "Kreacher be very happy.
Master know how to make thief suffer. Master removes his memory and then poisons him and
then takes his money and then kills him. Master be very intelligent, Mistress. Master be a good
Black Heir."
If Walburga had doubted the boy, no man, before, now she didn't have any doubts about him.
He had already proven his will. Now she had to test him, before telling him the secrets. She
would tell him about the Heirlooms.
"Bring him to me, Kreacher!"
Harry had been thinking about what he would do now. Dung was gone, most probably dead by
now, his body lying in Knockturn Alley. He had taken a few hairs from Fletcher so that he
could use Polyjuice Potion when he returned home, as he would have to show the Order
member who would come for the next guard shift that Fletcher had been at Privet Drive the
entire evening and that he had been poisoned after leaving the place so that no suspicion
would fall on him. He knew that wizards were stupid, but not that stupid. If Fletcher died on
Guard duty, suspicion would fall on Harry. So he would take Polyjuice Potion when he returned
to the Dursleys and he would be Mundungus Fletcher for an hour. He would greet the Order
member who came for duty and then he would disappear. An hour later the potion would wear
off and he could get back home. He knew that no one other than Mad Eye Moody could look
inside the house and confirm his presence in the house. They would just assume that since he
had not left the house, he must be inside. And he knew that the next guard would not look
inside. Dedalus Diggle was an honest wizard, after all.
Sunk deep in his thoughts, Harry was therefore startled when Kreacher suddenly appeared
into the room with a crack! The Elf bowed low before looking up at him.
"Mistress Walburga would like to speak with you, Master Harry. Please follow Kreacher," said
the Elf, his tone respectful.
Harry nodded and stood. As Kreacher started walking, Harry followed the old Elf as he was led
through the house and to the infamous portrait of the previous Black Matriarch, Walburga
Black.
The life-size portrait of Mrs. Black was still the most realistic and most unpleasant one he had
ever seen in his life. Her skin was still yellow, her eyes a light grey, her hair tied back, and the
ugly hat still on her head. Harry tried to ignore all that, but it seemed that the woman inside
the portrait was not as stupid as everyone had assumed, because she had noticed his
reaction.
"I did not have this portrait to look beautiful and pleasant, Child. This portrait has only one
purpose : never allow the Dark Lord to take over the Black Family. And to do that, I have
been given several enhancements from the normal portraits to carry out my purpose. But a
side effect of the enhancements is that the paint will get degraded as time passes. But I have
accepted that, because it will help me save my family."
Harry's respect for Mrs. Black rose a notch. He too was trying to protect his loved ones by
doing all this, and just like Mrs. Black, he had accepted the consequences of his actions.
"I can see that you understand what I mean to say better than someone your age should,"
said Mrs. Black, her expressions unreadable.
"But when you have seen everything that I have in my short life, it is not as difficult to
understand as one assumes," said Harry simply.
The lady in the portrait nodded shortly, but said nothing.
"Why did you ask me to come here, Mrs. Black?" asked Harry, his voice indifferent.
"You most probably know that you are now the Black Heir, do you not?" Mrs. Black asked
slowly.
"Yes, I do."
"Good. Now what do you know about the Black Family?"
"I know what I was told by my Godfather – your son Sirius – and others. I know that the Black
Family is an old Pureblood family. The family has been Dark for ages, and several of your
family members have served, and even now serve, the Dark Lord. Your family is notoriously
famous for spawning many Dark Wizards and Witches. You, Mrs. Black, and your husband,
Orion Black, are of the main line. Those who served the Dark Lord are of the cadet branch
families. They do not have much say in the Black Family politics. The real power of the Black
Family lies within the main family, your family. You and your husband never openly supported
the Dark Lord, but you did believe in blood purity. Your son joined the Dark Lord as a Death
Eater when he was sixteen. Your other son, Sirius, did not join the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord
did not directly kill you and your husband when you refused to join him."
"The Black Family has status and power in the Wizarding World," said Harry calmly. "But your
true strength is not in money; it is in artifacts and Heirlooms that you have collected over the
centuries. I have just now acquired the knowledge that all of those Heirlooms and artifacts are
hidden in his house behind the Black Family Tapestry. I also know how to open it."
Walburga Black was shocked. The Heir was well informed. Very well informed, it appeared.
"How do you know so much?" she asked quietly.
"Oh, I know much more than what I have just disclosed," said Harry, a slight smirk on his
face. "Do you know how Regulus and Sirius died? Do you know who killed Orion and
Arcturus?"
"W. . . What?" croaked the portrait. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, so you don't know. Pity. Let me inform you, Mrs. Black. I know who murdered them."
"Tell me!" screamed Mrs. Black, a slight tinge of hysteria in her voice. Even Kreacher, who was
standing next to the portrait, was frozen in his place. Harry felt slightly guilty for telling them
about this, but he knew that if he wanted the Black resources for his quest, he would have to
do this.
"As you wish, lady. Orion and Arcturus were killed on the Dark Lord's orders. They were
poisoned with neurotoxin poison extracted from magical plants. It appeared natural because
these poisons would start working while the body was resting and the brain impulses in the
nerves slowed down. In simple words, it means that the poison affected the person when they
were asleep. Hence every one assumed that they died naturally and therefore no diagnosis
was carried out to identify the proper cause of death." Harry paused, letting what he had said
sink into his listeners. Mrs. Black was listening, her eyes blank, as if she was imagining in her
mind the day of their deaths.
"I do not know the reason why he would want to kill the Blacks when they were some of his
most powerful supporters, but I guess that's why he is a Dark Lord. They're all mental," said
Harry, making a brief attempt at levity, but it had no effect. Sighing, he continued. "Regulus
was not as easy to kill. When he found out that the Dark Lord was trying to kill him, Regulus
was immediately on guard. Using simple poisons like the ones used on Orion and Arcturus
would not work on Regulus. He was an exceptional Potioneer and he could detect any simple
poison in an instant. So they had to feed him several poisons over the course of a year that
would combine inside him and slowly take an effect, and it was not something that even a
genius like Regulus would suspect. He was checking only for poisons, but he didn't check for
many other simple things that could react and form a poison inside him. He had assumed that
he would be poisoned directly. He had not counted for the Dark Lord to act cunning and subtle
and that was his downfall. He died in 1979 when the poison finally took effect."
"Why Voldemort decided to kill him I do not know, but it was said that he had suddenly got
cold feet and tried to abandon the Dark Lord. But as Sirius once told me, 'It's a life time of
service or death'," said Harry, remembering his conversation with Sirius from last year.
"Before, Regulus had always been a loyal Death Eater, but I was told that when he discovered
that the Dark Lord was willing to go to any lengths to win the war and defeat his enemies, he
did not want to serve the man any longer."
Walburga's portrait was still quiet, not even moving inside the frame. Kreacher's eyes were
glued to him, hanging on to every word he was speaking.
"Sirius was killed this year. He was pushed through the Veil, which is in a room that is known
as the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. He was pushed through the Veil by a
spell by Bellatrix Lestrange. I do not know if it was done on Voldemort's orders or if was
Bellatrix's sadism, but she was the reason that the Black family lost an Heir from the main
line."
Walburga's mouth was slowly moving, as if she wanted to say something. She did not say
anything, but her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"What do you, personally, think of that incident?" asked Mrs. Black.
"I believe that it was a plot by the Dark Lord to take control of our family," said Harry,
emphasizing the word 'our'. "I suspect that Bellatrix may have persuaded the Dark Lord to
poison Regulus. And now if Sirius died, then the power of the family would go to Cygnus
Black, who is Bellatrix's and Narcissa's father, and both of them are loyal supporters of
Voldemort, even though Narcissa is not marked. Or it might be a plot hatched by all the cadet
branch lines to snatch the power from the main line. They must have proposed it to
Voldemort, who acted it out on their behalf since it gave the power to his supporters. They
have always been envious of us, of our power."
Walburga nodded to what he was saying. It certainly made sense.
Finding an opening, Harry decided to pounce. "If you want, we can have our revenge. They
killed our family, and Voldemort and his followers have always wanted to kill me. We can
make them pay for their crimes against us, if you are willing to help me."
Walburga studied the child in front of her intently. She had to decide whether or not he was
suitable for being the Heir.
"I will tell you the secrets of the Black Family. But before I do that, you will have to prove
yourself to me."
Harry was surprised that she agreed so quickly. On hearing her condition, Harry was not
surprised, for he knew that nothing in this world was free. If he wanted power, he would have
to show that he was able to wield it properly.
"I agree with you, lady. And I will prove that I am worthy," Harry said, inclining his head a
little as a sign of respect.
"Let us begin then," she said. "First answer me this : Why do you desire power?"
"I desire power so that I can save everyone I love from the monster known as Lord
Voldemort. He wants to destroy me, and he will hurt my loved ones to try and hurt me. The
Dark Lord desires power too, but he desires power for his own selfish reasons," said Harry, his
tone hard. "I do not desire power for the sake of power. My desire power for can be called
selfish too, because I desire power for protecting my loved ones, and that by protect them I'm
protecting myself. But with that power, I can also help others. And I will."
"What would you do to win this war?" came the second question from the carefully observing
portrait.
"Anything that is necessary. I just poisoned a thief – who was also an Order member –
because he had endangered my life and was just as willing to endanger the lives of my
friends. He was going to steal from this house – which is mine – and anyone who steals from
me and mine has to pay the fine," said Harry, a steely glint in his eyes. "He did not feel any
remorse that I could have died last year when I was attacked by Dementors. And so when he
died, I felt no remorse or grief for the loss of precious life, because I know I did the right thing
and did this world a favor by disposing off that scum."
"Are you willing to sacrifice your soul for saving your loved ones? For doing the right thing?"
she asked in a quiet voice.
"I have said before and I say again : I will do anything necessary to win this war and save my
loved ones," said Harry, firmly. "If it requires that I sacrifice my life and soul so that many
other innocents can life their life in peace, then so be it. I'm already damaged from my
childhood. And I am willing to take much more damage if it means other children do not
become orphans like me."
"I will tell you what someone once told me : 'There is a right way and an easy way. What
matters is the way you choose.' And I have chosen the right way. And if it means losing my
life and soul, then so be it, for I have been truthful to myself for however long I've lived.
"Are you willing to die?"
"Lady, I am a Potter and I also have Black blood running through my veins. The Sorting Hat
said I could go to Slytherin or Gryffindor," said Harry. His lips twitched as he smiled sadly. "I
have no wish to die. I will use my skills to kill my enemies. I will stab them from behind if
necessary, because they would have done the same to me. One enemy dead is one more
innocent alive. But I will not do so foolishly by endangering my life or anyone else's. As for my
willingness to die, if my dying would destroy all evil in the world, then I am more than ready
to die."
"Are you willing to use the Dark Arts and the Unforgivables?"
"What are Dark Arts? Why are they called that? Only because they kill people?" asked Harry
suddenly. "Lady, magic is magic. The world cannot be split into Light Magic and Dark Magic.
No one is totally Light and no one is totally Dark. And magic is just the same. We've all got
both Light and Dark inside of us. What matters is what we choose to use. That's who we really
are."
"I could kill people with a small pin if I wanted to. My hairs can be used to create a rope to
strangle anyone. My nails can be used as claws. Anything can be used as a weapon. And that's
what the Dark Arts are. They are mere weapons for us to use. What matters is how we use
them. I am willing to use them for saving people. Can that be called Dark? People kill many
times with simple spells to save someone, but that isn't called Dark, is it? But their mistake is
that when they use simple spells, there is a chance that the enemy can get back up and attack
them again. What I am doing is taking them down permanently so that they cannot get back
up and hurt even more people."
"And the Unforgivables are the easiest way of taking someone down permanently. The Killing
Curse has no counter-curse. The Cruciatus Curse causes the victim so much pain that they can
permanently lose their minds. The Imperius Curse can be used to make someone jump off a
cliff," said Harry, his eyes locked with the woman in the portrait. "I am ready to use them with
the intentions of protecting myself and others. That cannot be called Dark, can it? When
someone is fighting with the intentions of saving their life, and when they accidentally kill the
attacker, that is not called Dark. Because if that is Dark, then we are all Dark, because
everyday we are fighting the world with our lives to protect ourselves and those around us."
After that passionate speech, Mrs. Black just looked at Harry, not saying anything. Harry also
stared back, unwilling to give any ground.
While all that was happening, Kreacher was looking at his new Master in awe. He had never
heard someone talking so passionately about dying for others. He respected his new Master
even more now, when he said that he was willing to die to avenge his precious Masters
Regulus and Orion.
"And what about blood purity?" said Mrs. Black, finally speaking after a long pause.
"Blood purity?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Yes, what is your opinion about that?"
"Frankly, lady, that is utter rubbish," said Harry, causing Mrs. Black to look at him in shock.
"What?" she asked, her voice rising.
"Hear me out, lady, before saying anything," said Harry calmly before continuing, "You do
know that Dumbledore is a half-blood, don't you? And he is considered to be the greatest
wizard of the century. And the Dark Lord that all the Purebloods praise? Do you know that he
too is a half-blood? And I'm a half-blood too. Dumbledore and I are even more pure than your
so called Dark Lord, if we follow the blood purity non-sense, because at least our parents were
magic users – in other words witches and wizards. But Voldemort's mother was nearly a
Squib," said Harry, smirking at the look of shock on Mrs. Black's and Kreacher's face.
"Shocking, isn't it? That the great and powerful Dark Lord is the son of a very weak witch.
Well, here is something more shocking. His father didn't even have any trace of magic in his
blood, unlike his mother. No, his father was a Muggle! Can you believe that? The Dark Lord's
father is a filthy Muggle scum as you Purebloods call it!"
If the situation hadn't been so serious, Harry would have laughed at the look of shock and
horror on Mrs. Black's face. Kreacher's reaction was funnier, as his bat ears had drooped, his
eyes had bulged even more out of their sockets and his entire body was just frozen, as if he
had been hit with a Full-Body Bind.
"How can that be possible?" whispered Mrs. Black.
"Magic is magic, Mrs. Black. No one fully understands the workings of magic. That is why you
should never discriminate on the basis of blood purity. It doesn't matter if your family has
been magical since a millennium," said Harry before asking, "Did you know that there are
more and more Squibs being born in Pureblood families than in normal families, which are
made up of half-bloods and Muggleborns? What do you think is the reason? It's the inbreeding
going on in the Pureblood families for centuries. You are not letting new blood into the family,
considering them to be impure, but it is this new blood that will allow new pathways for magic
to flow. If a family has the same blood for centuries, then the magic flowing through it would
decrease with every generation and become stagnant. Right now the Purebloods are marrying
their distant cousins, like yourself and Orion. But in a few generation, they will start marrying
their own brothers and sisters. And there is a high chance that those children would be
Squibs. And Pureblood families disown Squibs, don't they? Then what would happen if every
child born is a Squib? Will they disown every single one of them? When they themselves are
the reason for those Squib children being born? The child is never at fault for being born. The
fault lies in the mother and father of the child, if any."
"And do you know that many of the so-called Muggleborns are mainly the descendents of
Squibs who had been disowned from their Pureblood families because the families could not
bear the shame of having a Squib child? Those so-called Muggleborns are in fact half-blood,
and they are more powerful than the so-called Purebloods, because new blood has been
introduced, and the little magic that a Squib has flowed into the new pathways as it was no
longer obstructed."
"Is. . . Is this true?" Mrs. Black asked hesitatingly. After all that the young man revealed since
he had arrived, she had very little doubt that he would lie to her about something so
important. And what he was telling also made sense.
"Though no one has researched this, it is the conclusion I have derived after I read a few
books in the Hogwarts Library, said Harry. "And if you don't mind me saying, I really believe
that this is indeed the truth."
Mrs. Black took a moment to compose herself before she again looked at Harry.
"You have passed the test of mind and will. You have proven that you are knowledgeable and
cunning. You know what power is, and you are not seduced by its wiles. You have a good
heart, and I believe a heart was what the Black Family was lacking. Until now, that is," she
said with a hint of smile on her face.
"I have decided that I will reward you with the knowledge of the Black Secrets," said
Walburga. Harry started to smile when she added, "But before I proceed, you will have to
show me your magical skills."
"And what would you like me to do?" asked Harry.
"Show me some powerful spells that you know," she said.
"For that I'll require my proper wand, as my borrowed wand is insufficient," he replied,
sneering at the thought of using Dung's wand for powerful spells. He knew that if he cast a
Patronus through it, it would not be able to bear the magical power of the spell.
Mrs. Black looked thoughtful for a moment before looking back at him. "Use the wand and tap
it wherever I point on my portrait frame."
"What will that do?" asked Harry inquiringly.
"It will activate the Magic Suppression Ward that hides all traces of magic working inside the
house. The Trace will probably activate, but the Ministry will not be able to track it."
"Can I use it for practicing more spells here?" Harry asked in surprise.
"No. It costs too much magical power from the Fuel Crystals that power the Wards. It will only
work for a short time without causing damage to the other Wards. And then the Fuel Crystals
will take quite a lot of time to recharge fully. Kreacher, you may leave." The Elf bowed before
disappearing.
'What the Hell are Fuel Crystals? Never heard of them,' thought Harry as he pondered over
Mrs. Black's reply.
"Alright, tap the Trace-free wand here, here, here and here in a clockwise direction first and
then in anticlockwise direction starting with the left side," she instructed, and Harry did as he
was told and tapped the places. Looking closely, he could see that there were faint Runes
covering the entire portrait frame.
When he finished tapping, Mrs. Black said out loud, "Activate!"
Harry could feel a wave of magic wash over him. His entire body was tingling from the effects
of the Ward activating, and his senses were on extra-alert. Swiftly drawing his wand, Harry
wildly looked around for a while before calming down.
"That was weird," he said.

"Indeed," said Mrs. Black primly. "There is a reason why this house is considered a stronghold.
Well, now you can show me those spells. Now use that wand over that wall there; it has been
magically reinforced. You have thirty minutes.
Harry nodded and pointing his holly and Phoenix wand towards the wall and started casting all
the important magical spells and curses that he felt were proper. Teaching the D.A. had been
a great benefit for him as he had been forced to learn many more spells that the other
members of the D.A. so that he would not embarrass himself in front of them. So he cleared
his mind of all the useless thoughts and got into the proper mindset for powerful spell casting.
After casting some of the simpler spells taught at Hogwarts, and then the ones that he had
taught the D.A., Harry decided that he could win Mrs. Black's confidence by showing her some
of the more powerful spells that he could perform as well as show her his special power.
"Serpensortia!"
A large black snake exploded out of his wand and fell on the floor, ready to strike anyone who
came near it. Harry slowly moved towards it. When it sensed his movement, it turned to face
him.
"Hello," Harry hissed to the snake.
The snake stopped moving as it looked at him curiously. Harry slowly moved a hand towards it
and when he made no move to attack, he slowly rubbed a finger on its smooth head scales.
He looked up to see Mrs. Black looking back at him with a calculating look in her eyes. When
she noticed that he was looking, she just nodded, indicating that he continue with the
demonstration. Harry moved away from the snake and hissed, "Thank you."
The snake bobbed its small black head as it looked back at him. Raising his wand, Harry
vanished the snake with the same spell that Snape had once used. "Vipera Evanesca!"
The snake vanished in a puff of black smoke and Harry cast the next powerful spell he knew.
"Expecto Patronum!"
An enormous silvery stag erupted from his wand and it galloped around him, searching for any
threats to its caster. Seeing none, it approached him and Harry raised a hand to pat it. As he
touched it, he felt the warmth of the stag moments before it dispersed into silver vapor. Mrs.
Black was looking at him with some respect, and Harry knew why. Lupin had said that not
even adult wizards could cast a fully corporeal Patronus, and yet he had done so at the age of
thirteen, which had been unimaginable. So he knew that the Black Matriarch had gotten his
hidden message. I have power, but I use it with caution.
"A corporeal Patronus at this age? I'm impressed, Heir," said Mrs. Black. "I have been
informed that you can also perform the Memory Spell. Now can you show me the
Unforgivables? I know that you will be able to cast the Imperius Curse if need be, and your
will is very strong. Very few will be able to resist it. What I wish for you to show me is whether
you can cast the Cruciatus and the Killing Curse. Can you do it?"
Harry did not know if he could do it. He was not afraid of using them, but he needed a proper
reason to cast one. It seemed that Mrs. Black could sense his hesitation, because she spoke
up.
"I know that you do not wish to use them without reason, but I need to see the proof that you
can cast them when the time comes, and not fail at it when it becomes necessary to use
them," she said. "If you have trouble casting them, think of all the hate that you have. Think
of Bellatrix and your hate of her. You hate her for killing your Godfather, don't you? Think
about how she laughed in glee when he fell into the Veil. Think of the people she had tortured
to insanity and death. Think of how many she people she has killed. Think of all the lives that
she has ruined. Think, think. . . " she was now coercing him, her softly whispered words
resounding in his mind. "Gather your hate, all of it. Think of causing pain to the mad woman.
Imagine her withering in pain at your feet, begging for mercy. Imagine. . . " she trailed of
when the black-haired wizard suddenly raised his wand – the lip glowing red – and pointed it
at the reinforced wall.
"Crucio!"
A dark red bolt of energy erupted from the holly and Phoenix wand and it struck the wall. The
wall which had withstood the impacts of a Reductor Curse started cracking from the force of
the spell.
"Good, Harry, good," whispered Walburga, her eyes bright as she looked as the partially
destroyed reinforced wall.
Harry was breathing quite heavily as the sudden rush of emotions left his mind and his body
felt a little exhausted from using so much power. After a few moments, he looked towards the
magically reinforced wall. There was a small burn the size of a Quaffle on the wall where the
spell had connected with its surface. Spidery cracks ran all over the surface of the wall,
spreading all around the crater created by the impact of the Unforgivable Curse.
"The Killing Curse now, My Heir?" came Walburga's voice. "Can you cast it? Do you need my
encouragement?"
Harry shook his head to her final question and raised his wand again. He decided to move
back a few paces in case his Killing Curse had a similar effect to the Cruciatus Curse that he
had previously cast.
'Think, Harry!' he urged himself. 'Think of what Voldemort has done to you! Think of what he
did to your parents! Think of all the innocents he killed in the war! How many children became
orphans because of him, how many mothers lost their children, how many wives lost their
husbands! Think of all the crimes his Death Eaters have committed! Think of how much grief
he has caused over the years!'
As he continued his mental battle with his memories, Harry suddenly had a vision. He saw
Voldemort as he was torturing a small child using the Cruciatus Curse while he forced the
parents to watch. He saw Voldemort as he laughed as the child's parents begged him to stop,
crying helplessly as their child was tortured over and over until the child was bleeding from
the nose and had stopped moving. Its breathing had stopped, though the small body was still
twitching morbidly even after life had left it, due to the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Then
Harry saw Voldemort as he turned his wand on another child and as he raised his wand to
mutter the Killing Curse. . .
"Avada Kedavra!"
The wand buckled as the sickly green bolt of the Killing Curse left it and hit the wall exactly
where Harry imagined Voldemort's head to be. The wall exploded into bits as there was a
shower of plaster and mortar all over the surrounding.
Harry was still rooted to the spot, wand held tightly in his grip, the knuckles of the wand hand
visible as they stood out on the pale white skin. He knew that this was not a true vision from
Voldemort's mind, of that he was sure, but it had certainly looked real enough to make it
seem so. He heard soft clapping and looked towards to source.
Walburga Black had risen from her chair and was clapping as she applauded him. "Wonderful,
young Heir. You have proven that you can do as you say. These were without doubt the most
spectacular effects I have ever seen when performing the Unforgivables. Truly spectacular."
Harry just nodded, feeling a bit winded.
"It is time, Harry Potter. I entrust the Black Family to you. Restore it to its former glory and
use its power to destroy the traitors who have broken their promises. Fulfill my oath so that
finally my soul may rest in peace," she said, her voice hoarse. She composed herself and once
again sat down on her chair.
"I release thee. The Heir has arrived," Mrs. Black intoned as she clasped her hands together as
if praying.
There was a bright flash of light that shone from the entire portrait frame. A moment later,
there was a slight hiss as a section of the wall beneath the portrait moved smoothly upwards
before disappearing completely. Only visible was a large dark hole where the wall used to be.
Then a grinding noise was heard as a small stone platform came out of the hole. Once it came
out entirely, the grinding stopped. It was half a meter long and made of black granite.
Suddenly it started rising from ground and it did not stop until it was at waist height. The
platform was hollow at the centre and in the groove there was a small onyx key that was sunk
vertically in the stone, visible only because it reflected the light from the old gas lamps
illuminating the hallway.
"Take the key, Harry, take it," urged Walburga. "Kreacher only told you what he knew about
the Storage Room. He did not know about the key as he can enter using Elf Magic. When the
door appears after you tap your name on the Tapestry, insert this key in a hole at the left
bottom side of the door. This key is the Ward Key. You will need this key to activate the other
powerful Wards," she informed him, before adding, "Be quick. The Magic Suppression Ward
will be deactivating shortly. Use 'Deletrius' to delete the traces of the Unforgivables and all the
spells that you used. Don't worry about the mess. When you fully activate the Wards, they will
restore the entire house and clean it."
Harry quickly moved into action and he did as he was told. He first used the Deletrius Spell to
clean his wand of the traces. After that, he headed to the granite platform and looked at the
key. 'It's so small yet it has so much power. Just like the Philosopher's Stone,' thought Harry.
Picking up the onyx key, Harry was surprised to find that the key was substantially heavier
than it looked to be. Lifting it to eye level, Harry examined it carefully, turning it over in his
hand and watching as it reflected light. He was a bit surprised to see this particular effect as
black color usually absorbed light, not reflect it. If he concentrated, he could almost feel the
magic contained inside the small key, and now he was sure that this key was indeed powerful.
'And if only the key for a door is so powerful,' Harry mused to himself, 'imagine how powerful
the things on the other side of the door will be.'
» Next Chapter : Harry is about to enter the Storage Room. What secret powerful artifacts
await him in there. And will he be able to get back to Privet Drive before Diggle arrives.
» In the next few chapters, Dumbledore will make an appearance. But he will no be evil, at
least not in this story. He is just misguided and he always tried to do the right thing for the
Greater Good. Unfortunately, his idea of greater good does not endear him to others.
» If anyone wants me to change Dumbledore's character, please inform me now, because he

will be appearing soon and after that I cannot change him.
» And I'm going to use all spells available to me. Which means spells from books, cards,
games, etc.
» AN : Why has no one has guessed the contents of the flask? In this chapter I was going to
finally kill Dung, but then I'd have to do a time skip to get Harry back to No. 4, which would
not be good. And this chapter also allowed me to show what happened to the Black family.
Voldemort double crossed them and now he will pay. And now Harry has a legitimate reason
to kill the Death Munchers, because he can say that he was fulfilling the oath of his Matriarch
so that she may rest in peace. And this chapter was way too long for me to write. For all those
Q&A, I had to think very hard, and finally I used the simplest idea.
» AN : This is a possible crossover fic, so I get to use powerful and advanced weaponry. Want
me to make the Fuel Crystals into Ancient Zero Point Modules (ZPMs)?
» Has anyone gone to Salazar Slytherin's page on HPWiki? The guy really looks like a monkey!
» I have also opened up a poll on profile page for possible pairings. I want Harry paired with
two girls, who they will be is up to all of you! And if anyone wants to imagine how Narcissa
looks like in this story, think of Naomi Watts. Look at one of her pics before voting. And vote
quickly, because I'll be closing the poll soon so that I can introduce the ladies into the story.
Thank you, all my readers and reviewers, for reading my story. But I still say that I need more
reviews though!
Review this Chapter
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Rowling. ZPM belongs to the Stargate Universe. No monetary gain is being made from this
story. Any non-Canon characters belong to me. Certain creative terms which have been used
probably belong to some of my brilliant fellow fan fiction authors. (I don't really know to
whom, so please forgive me.)
A man who has never passed through the inferno of his emotions will never
overcome them.
It is necessary only for the good man to do nothing for evil to triumph.
Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
The only thing to fear is fear itself.
Men talk of killing Time, while Time quietly kills them.
What does not kill you makes you stronger.
Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are always won by men.
* * * * * Chapter 7 * * * * *
*|* The Storage Room *|*
The house of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was very old. Purchased by the Black Family
Patriarch of the time, the house had been Warded very thoroughly by many powerful spells
and enchantments. The memories of the location of the house were removed from the minds
of the people who had constructed it. The neighbors thought that there had been a mistake in
the numbering of the houses and that Number Twelve did not exist.
The house was Unplottable to anyone who did not know of its location and existence. It was
not the complex Fidelius Charm, merely a simple version of it. But the simpler charm took
more magical power to cast and maintain as it had no requirement for the Secret Keeper that
a Fidelius Charm demanded.
The reason this place was so heavily Warded was because it was used as a last option in the
time of crisis. The place was considered to be the safe house of the Black Family. Indeed,
many of the younger members thought of it to be the ancestral house of the Black Family
since they had lived in the house since birth. And it was also because there was the Family
Tapestry depicting the Black Family Tree.
They did not know that what was behind the Tapestry was the reason why the house was built
in the first place.
The Black Family Tapestry served as an entrance to the Black Family Storage Room, which
was a simpler name for High Security Vaults. It was thus named so that no one, not even the
children of the Black Family, would suspect that there was a hidden horde of artifacts and
Heirlooms in the very house they lived in. But very few could access the place, even if they
had prior knowledge of the place. The privilege was only for the main line of Black Family,
which had the control of the Ward Key, a Key made of onyx which was responsible for
controlling all the Wards of the house. A key that the members of the main line had protected
with their lives, so that no outsider could get their filthy hands on the treasures of the Black
Family.
That was where Harry Potter, the last Black of the main line and the current Heir of the family,
was currently heading. In his hand was a small key made from onyx. It had a shine unto it
that any normal onyx did not, a shine which indicated its special qualities. This key was the
Ward Key, one of the most important artifacts that the Black Family possessed. The Key would
allow the Wielder to enter the Storage Room, and it would also activate all the dormant Wards
that – when fully activated – could stop an entire colony of Dragons from attacking and
destroying the place.
'And that is, honestly, awesome!' thought Harry as he entered the Drawing Room. With a
wave of Fletcher's wand, the hidden gas lamps ignited, bathing the room in bright yellow light.
Walking over to the tapestry, Harry stood still for a moment and just studied the thing before
him. It was so skillfully woven that no one would suspect if there was anything behind the
tapestry other than a bare wall. But on looking carefully, Harry could see that the Tapestry did
not move even when touched. It was then that he realized that the Tapestry was not a
Tapestry at all; it was just the wall that had Cushioning Charms on it to make it soft to touch,
giving it the feel of soft cloth. It was an ingenious idea that no one else could even think of.
Harry smirked as he found his name. It was at the very bottom of the Family Tree and it was
glowing softly, indicating that he was the current Head of the family. So Walburga had not lied
when she said that the magic of the house recognized him as the Heir.
Kneeling down to look at his name, Harry raised his hand and reached out to touch the
writing. Hand still extended halfway, Harry paused, wondering if he should stop or continue.
The golden thread that his name was weaved in glimmered invitingly, and Harry decided his
course of action. Tapping his name, Harry was surprised to feel that on pressing the small
rectangle with his name, it was as if he was in fact pushing a button. The wall shimmered and
rippled like a curtain, as if it was a breeze was moving it. Then before his eyes, the tapestry
started melting into the wall, the Family Tree disappearing without a trace.
The wall was shining with a dim light being emitted from it. Suddenly, Harry could see the
fiery outline of a door appearing on the wall where the Tapestry had been. The outline of the
door shone a dark red, as if the entire length of the door was wreathed in flames.
Harry searched the bottom left of the door to find the keyhole for the Ward Key. And he
immediately found it, because the keyhole was emitting a silvery blue glow. Key in hand,
Harry quickly inserted it into the keyhole and moved back in case something happened.
At first he could see no change. But then suddenly, Harry could hear clicks of many locks
turning as the entire door glowed a bright red while the key glowed a bright blue. As many
colors started flashing over the door, Harry immediately drew both the wands, not willing to
take a risk in this situation. Slowly the flashing lights reduced in intensity was the door
stopped glowing. The key was still in the keyhole but it too was no longer glowing.
Cautiously approaching the door, his senses on high alert, Harry reached out to the Key and
quickly snatched it out of the door. As soon as the key was removed from the keyhole, there
was a slight hiss as the door immediately started sliding and disappeared behind the walls.
The storage room was entirely dark; not even the space a meter in front of him was visible.
Wands in each hand and the Ward Key in his pocket, Harry carefully stepped forward. As soon
as his foot crossed the threshold of the wall's boundary, he could feel a jolt of magic pass
through him. Jerking, Harry retreated slightly and quickly assumed a fighting stance to
prepare for any possible attacks from inside the room. Who knew if the Storage Room – a
heavily guarded High Security Vault – had defenses set up like the Philosopher's Stone
Chamber?
When nothing happened, Harry pondered on what he should do next? Should he try again?
Should he step back and return later? No, the latter was not possible because he needed to
activate the Wards that protected the house so that no one else could return here. And one of
the followers of Tommy Boy – who went by the proper name of Severus Snape – had access
to this house at the moment. And if he didn't activate them to full power, soon enough, many
others would have access too. This would not be good for his continued existence.
Concluding that trying again was the better idea for now, Harry raised Fletcher's wand and
whispered, "Homenum Revelio!" When the spell indicated that there were no life forms inside
the room, Harry lit up his own with a quick muttered "Lumos Maxima!"
Bright light erupted from the wand tip, showering the area in his immediate vicinity with the
white wand light. Raising his arm, Harry flicked the glowing wand, launching a sphere of light
into the air. The glowing sphere slowly floated into the room and hovered there, casting more
light on the surrounding. When he saw discernable grooves along the upper side of the walls,
Harry deduced that this room too had hidden gas lamps on the walls. As he waved the other
wand in a sweeping motion, the gas lamps sprang to life, and for the first time, the entire
Storage Room was visible.
Harry tried to control himself, but a gasp of amazement escaped him. The name 'Storage
Room' did not do the place justice. For what was before him could not be called a room. It
could not even be called a chamber. No, the place in front of him was comparable to the Great
Hall in length and width and nearly rivaled it in terms of height. But it was not the size of the
room that amazed him much; it was what the room was filled with that amazed Harry.
The room was huge, about the size of the Hogwarts Great Hall. The ceiling was quite lower
than that of the Great Hall, and there was no charmed sky. Instead of the sky and windows,
the room was lit with lamps and candles. There were candle stands at intervals and there were
at least three chandeliers in the room, all covered entirely with candles, which were all lit. The
lamps were in brackets along the wall, placed at specific intervals. All in all, the lighting of the
place was strategically planned so that there would be no dark corners.
The walls were made of smooth grey stone. The floor was made of rough brown ones,
obviously well worn. The entire room was filled with rows upon rows of wide tables, shelves
and cabinets. Each one of them had labels on them to identify the contents. There were
several large wardrobes at many places all over the hall. In one corner that was raised slightly
above the floor, Harry could see several money bags filled with gold Galleons and he assumed
that to be the place where the Black Family stored their money. There were several suits of
amour, all of them fully armored with plate-armor and chain mail, each of them carrying
multiple weapons. The small space occupied by them appeared to be a mini-armory. There
were several shelves lined along the walls that were supporting several dusty tomes. Harry
gathered them to be the books that the Blacks did not place on display in their Library.
There were many cabinets with glass-doors. They contained a variety of items like silver and
golden goblets, large dinner plates, a collection of table utensils, as well as a lot of other
things that Harry did not know the names of. But he did remembered seeing them in the
house last year before they had been thrown away by the Order. Confused as to how they
came to be here, Harry decided to ask Kreacher.
The Elf arrived at his summons and bowed deeply. Not bothering with trying to tell him off for
that, Harry asked the question that had been troubling, "Kreacher, how did all these things
come here? The Order threw them away, didn't they?"
"Yes, Master Harry, the Order be throwing them away. But Kreacher be finding them all and
bringing them back here," said Kreacher, looking around the hall.
"You did well, Kreacher. Thank you for bringing them back here," said Harry sincerely.
The Elf shuffled a little in embarrassment as his Master praised him. "Kreacher be doing what
he has to, Master, nothing else."
"You may leave, Kreacher," said Harry, his attention once again returning to the hall.
Kreacher bowed once again and disappeared with a loud crack!
Wandering ahead, Harry silently looked around the room, glancing at the objects in passing
before moving ahead. He had entered this room for one purpose : finding the Fuel Crystals to
activate the Protective Wards. That was what he was trying to find, and he was having quite a
lot of difficulty in finding them.
Harry cursed himself for not asking Walburga about those Fuel Crystals. She had said that
they were important for the functioning of the Wards, but she had not informed him of where
to find them in this large and cluttered hall, nor had he bothered to ask.
As he neared the centre of the hall, Harry could see from over the medium height tables that
the centre of the hall was not as jumbled up as the rest of the hall. In fact, it was clear of all
the odds and ends in this room. Assuming that there must be a reason for that, Harry trekked
forward to take a look.
As he cleared the maze of tables and shelves, Harry found himself at the centre of the Storage
Room or Storage Hall, as he had started calling it. At the centre of the hall was a raised
pedestal with a curved basin-like formation on it. The pedestal was made of a milky white
translucent marble. The basin was made of a brownish metal-looking material and it was
supported on the pedestal within claw-like structures that jutted out from the pedestal.
Inside the basin was an object that was shaped like a rough cylinder, perhaps twelve to
eighteen inches in length, and approximately six to eight inches in diameter. The cylinder
appeared to be made up of a yellowish-orange crystalline substance, with black etchings on its
exterior. There were some smaller sections of the cylinder that were tinted red and green, but
they did not appear to be separate pieces from the cylinder, as by visual inspection, the entire
cylindrical object appeared to be a single solid roughly carved crystal.
Harry peered at the thing with curiosity. The thing looked quite weird in his opinion. It was
made of many colored crystals that appeared to be fused together. When he extended his
hand over it, he could feel the magic the cylinder had inside it, and the magic contained inside
it was tremendous. He had no idea that such a small thing could contain so much magic.
Scrutinizing the object closely, trying to make out its composition, Harry discerned that it
appeared to be made from a different variety of quartz crystal – which was primarily yellow –
and he knew that crystals were the best materials in which magic could be stored. So he
assumed that this was the 'Fuel Crystal' that Walburga had mentioned, since the thing had so
much magic stored inside it and appeared to be made up of crystal.
Relieved that he had found the Fuel Crystals, Harry looked around the basin and pedestal for a
niche for the Ward Key so that he could activate the Wards. As he investigated the entire
pedestal, Harry could see the yellowish-orange end of the Fuel Crystal that was inside the
pedestal. Through the translucent marble, he could see that there was something that
appeared to be similar to wires present inside the pedestal and that they were connected to
the end of the Fuel Crystal. He was surprised to note that a notoriously Pureblood Family like
the Blacks would have something like Muggle wires inside their house, and that too for
protection of their house. But he concluded that if the Blacks could buy a house in Muggle
suburbs to hide their possessions safely, then they could also have Muggle cables for
protecting said possessions from everyone.
Feeling inquisitive, Harry once again summoned Kreacher to seek an answer to his query. The
Elf once again appeared before Harry and bowed. "Master Harry called Kreacher?"
"Yes, Kreacher." Harry nodded towards the pedestal with the Fuel Crystal. "Is that the Fuel
Crystal?" Harry inquired, wanting to confirm his assessment.
"Yes, Master," Kreacher replied.
"Why are there cables inside the marble pedestal, Kreacher?" asked Harry.
"Kreacher not know, Master. This is how the Fuel Crystals have always been since Kreacher
knows of them," said Kreacher.
"Why do you refer to it as 'Crystals', as in plural?" asked Harry, confused.
"It be made up of many crystals; it appears to be one because it be held together by magic,"
said the Elf, before adding, "Kreacher be told that it be made and used by Great Wizard Merlin
himself to protect his house."
Harry was surprised to hear that this was made by Merlin. But how in the Hell did the old
Mage know what wires and cables were, when in fact they were invented by Muggles centuries
after his demise?
As Harry puzzled over this slight conundrum, Kreacher suddenly spoke up. "Master, why have
you not fully activated the Wards yet?"
Brought out of his brief silence, Harry looked at the old Elf and said, "I'm searching for the
place to insert the key, Kreacher."
"Master, you have to press the Fuel Crystals inside the basin. When you be doing that, the key
box will come out," the Elf informed him.
"Oh. . . "
Moving towards the Fuel Crystals, Harry reached towards the cylinder and pressed it lightly on
the top. It appeared that the slight push was enough, as the entire Crystal slid into the
pedestal until the slightly bulging outer shell of the top was the only part of the cylinder that
remained outside the marble pedestal.
There was a slight whine from inside the pedestal as a small square box emerged from the
side of the pedestal through a small aperture, where a portion of the pedestal had vanished.
The box was attached to the pedestal through a cable similar to the ones on the inside of the
pedestal. With a snap, the lid of the box opened. Inside the box, there was a groove that
perfectly matched the shape of the Ward Key.
Harry grasped the small onyx Ward Key that was currently residing in his pocket. Removing it
from the pocket, he placed it inside the groove and let go. The key fell smoothly into its
groove and glimmer slightly before the lid of the box immediately closed with a snap. The box
swiftly retreated into the side of the pedestal and the aperture sealed itself. It appeared as if
the slot had never even been there.
Suddenly, the lights of the entire room dimmed slightly as the milky white translucent
pedestal started glowing. The internal cables of the pedestal started emitted a bright blue glow
as magic started flowing out from the Fuel Crystals through the cables and started powering
the Wards. There was a sudden oppressive feeling as the magic in the room suddenly
increased and the semi-active Wards started powering up.
Harry became very still as waves after waves of powerful wild magic flowed through the entire
hall and through him as the Protective Wards of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place became
active. Kreacher too was rooted to his spot besides his Master as he felt the magic pass
through him.
Slowly, the oppressive feel of magic lessened and finally disappeared. As he became aware of
his surrounding, Harry could hear a low humming noise coming from the pedestal. As he took
a glance at the pedestal, he was surprised to see that the Fuel Crystals were glowing brightly
with an inner light, bathing the metallic basin in a yellow glow. The cables inside the pedestal
which were connected to the base of the Fuel Crystals were pulsing with a soft blue light, as if
they had a heartbeat of their own.
"What are they, Kreacher?" whispered Harry, awe filling his voice at the strange but beautiful
sight.
"Mistress once told Kreacher that they be Crystal Conduits," Kreacher whispered back, not
wanting to break the magical moment by speaking loudly. "They be transferring the magic
from inside the Fuel Crystals to the Ward Stones placed throughout the entire house. They be
like the veins, and the Fuel Crystals be the heart."
"Ward Stones? What are they, Kreacher?" Harry asked, turning to look at the old Elf.
"They be the ones that take the raw magic and turn it into proper Wards. They be carved in
different Runes, depending on the function of the Ward," informed Kreacher. "Every different
Ward be having different Ward Stones."
"Is there a book on Runes and Wards here, Kreacher?" asked Harry, now intrigued by the
subject of Runes. He had never taken the Ancient Runes class at Hogwarts, so he did not
know that they were so important in the construction of Wards. He remembered Hermione
talking about Runes during the O.W.L.s, something about mistranslating them.
"There be many in the Black Library," Kreacher replied. "If Master wants, Kreacher will fetch
them."
"Bring me two of them, Kreacher, but bring the ones that explain the basic Rune theory,"
ordered Harry.
"Yes, Master," said Kreacher, and disappeared at once.
The lamps in the hall were still glowing dimly and there were very few lit candles in the
candelabras around the hall. The chandeliers were all but extinguished. Harry assumed that
this was the effect of the oppressive magic that had been affecting the entire Storage Room a
short while ago. Dung's wand in hand, Harry once again flicked it; the candles relit and the
gas lamps in their wall brackets ignited once again. The Ward Pedestal was still glowing, but
not as brightly as before.
Kreacher appeared in the hall again with two books in one hand and a small duffle bag in the
other. He held both hands out to show the contents to Harry.
"These be the two books that be the most simple, according to Mistress Walburga. Kreacher
be asking her as he doesn't know about the books," said Kreacher hesitantly. "Mistress tells
Kreacher to give Master Harry this bag. It be for keeping his books and other things that
Master wants."
"Very good, Kreacher. Thank you," said Harry, smiling as he took the proffered items. "Can
you tell me if this room has a collection of proper wands?"
"There be many spare wands that Older Masters had collected. They be near the money,"
Kreacher answered.
"You may leave, Kreacher."
The Elf bowed and disappeared as Harry turned towards the section of the hall where the
Galleons were stacked in piles. He could get a better wand than Dung's and he could also
stock up on Galleons in case he needed to make an emergency trip to the British Wizarding
World's shopping hub, Diagon Alley.
After fifteen minutes of trying many of the collected wands, Harry's temper was swiftly rising
with each failed trial. It was just like the day when he had been getting his first wand from
Ollivander. None of these second-hand wands were working for him; even Dung's worked
better than these. Harry could not understand why these refused to comply and work. The
best result he had from one of these had been a few green and blue sparks; with the other
wands, there had been no reaction at all.
Getting tired of trying all these useless wands, Harry gave up and went to the stacked
Galleons. There was no use in wasting precious time trying these wands when there had been
no result from most of them. And he had to get back to Privet Drive to masquerade as
Mundungus Fletcher when the next Order member arrived to take the shift.
The Galleons, Sickles and Knuts were arranged in separate piles. Bags full of coins were kept
on each type of currency. Harry reached into the uplifted area and snatched a few bags of
Galleons, two bags of Sickles and one bag of Knuts.
Putting them in his new duffle bag, Harry noted that the bag was enchanted with an
Undetectable Extension Charm, an older type of the modern Space Expansion Charm used on
bags and trunks. The problem with the older charm was that though it was Undetectable,
there was no guarantee of when it would fail. And if it failed, it would mean that all the objects
stored inside would be crushed as the bag shrunk back to its original size. As such, the charm
had to be reinforced at regular intervals so that it did not fail. And it could be negated by a
simple Finite Incantatem Spell. Hence, most people preferred the newer Space Expansion
Charm. It expanded the bag only up to a certain extent, but it did not have to be regularly
reinforced. And it could not be negated by the Finite Incantatem.
Harry decided that he would use this bag only to store unnecessary things, not important
ones. Those he would store in his own bag enchanted with the Space Expansion Charm.
Now that he had some of the essentials that he required, Harry convinced himself that there
was still some time left before returning to Privet Drive, and so he decided to take a look at
the armory of the Black Storage Room.
There were several pieces of weaponry that were scattered around the place. Harry knew that
most would be enchanted or have poison on their blades, as it was common in the Magical
World. He looked around for something that he could use without cutting himself up or
poisoning himself.
There were many types of swords : Scottish Claymore, Standard English Broadsword, many
Long swords, Short swords, Rapiers, Flamberts. There was even one Japanese Katana. Harry
looked at it in amazement. Picking it up, Harry removed it from its sheath. It was made of
steel and it was deadly sharp. Hilt in his hands, Harry swung the sword experimentally. It was
very light, too light for his tastes. Harry knew at once that this was not his type of close-range
combat weapon. Returning it to its place on the special stand, Harry once again recommenced
his browsing.
There were many interesting weapons scattered around the small armory, and Harry picked
up and tried quite a few of them. None of them were fit for his use, as they were not his style.
And the odd thing was, Harry did not know what his own style was. But whenever he touched
a weapon, something made him put them back. It was once again like the wand selecting
from before. He wandered for five more minutes before becoming bored when he did not find
anything more useful.
Deciding that he was just wasting more time, just like with the wands, Harry moved to leave
the Storage Room. Walking past the shelves and cabinets full of miscellaneous objects and
instruments, Harry arrived at the exit/entrance of the hall. Just as he was about to leave the
room, Harry remembered that he had still not recovered the Ward Key from the Ward
Pedestal. And he had no idea how to recover it, but that was not the problem.
Once again, Harry sighed and summoned the Black Family House Elf. Kreacher appeared once
again with a crack! and bowed. Harry just sighed and spoke once the Elf stood erect.
"Kreacher, the Ward Key is still inside the pedestal. How will I enter the room again without
it?" asked Harry in a tired voice.
"The Key stay there until Master deactivates the Wards," said Kreacher. "Master will not need
it as he can now enter the room by just tapping his name on the Tapestry. The Ward Key will
not be needed now."
"Thank you, Kreacher. You may leave," sighed Harry. He was really bored now, and he had to
get back to Privet Drive in an hour before the shift changed and Diggle arrived.
Walking out of the Storage Hall with the duffle bag in his hand, Harry once again found himself
in the Drawing Room. As he turned back to look at the room, he only saw the Black Family
Tapestry depicting the Black Family Tree. Deducing that the room must have sealed itself
when it sensed his exit, Harry turned and walked towards the only table in the room, on which
was the potion box that had once belonged to Regulus Black.
Opening the clasp of the box, Harry reached into the expanded box in search of the Polyjuice
Potion, a potion which was necessary for the next stage of his plan. His entire right arm and
head disappeared inside the box as he looked for the section of the box which housed the
Polyjuice Potion. Finding the potion near the bottom, Harry picked up the small conical flask in
which the thick, dark, mud-like Polyjuice Potion was stored. The potion stored inside was still
bubbling at random intervals. The flask itself was charmed to be unbreakable and it had been
in stasis for quite a long time, but it was still healthy for consumption, or as healthy as a
Polyjuice Potion could ever be.
Removing his hand out of the potion box with the flask held in his hand, Harry reached into
one of his pockets and pulled out a small vial that had a few strands of ginger-colored hair.
Taking a few hairs out with the help of a tweezers, Harry once again put the stopper back in
its place and pocketed the vial. Placing the tweezers back into the potion box, Harry closed the
lid and fastened the clasp.
Absently thinking of reminding himself that the box needed some Security Spells placed on it,
Harry held the Polyjuice flask in one hand and dropped the hairs into it with another. As soon
as the hairs made contact with the potion, it hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed
madly. A few seconds later, the potion had turned into a grey colored thick gooey liquid.
Holding the small flask up to his nose, he took a small whiff and was not surprised to note that
the potion smelled a bit like tobacco. Harry was not willing to admit it, but he was scared as to
how it would actually taste like when he drank it.
'Now I'm really regretting killing that thief. If I knew that I'd have to drink this, I'd have left
him alive till later tonight,' thought Harry to himself, holding the flask away from him as if it
had the most poisonous substance inside it. And to Harry, it really really did.
Repeatedly telling himself that this would help him in his quest of freedom, Harry finally
gathered enough courage to bring the flask near to him. Taking a deep breath, Harry brought
the flask to his lips. Pinching his nose close, Harry closed his eyes and tilted the flask. As the
potion poured down his throat, its taste similar to Dragon dung, Harry only had one thought in
his mind before the burning sensation of the change started :
'Sometimes I hate it when I'm right!'

After the sensations related to the Polyjuice change passed, Harry once again had the full
control of his body. His entire body was tingling due to the change and his clothes felt really
tight. Cursing himself for not remembering that Dung was a squat man, Harry tried to get out
of his clothes. Struggling for full two minutes, Harry finally managed to get rid of his clothes.
Calling Kreacher to him once again, Harry asked him to bring him some clothes that fit his
current body.
Kreacher bowed and immediately did as he was told. Coming back with a few frayed and
tattered articles of clothing fit for Mundungus's body, Kreacher handed them to his Master. As
he was putting them on, Kreacher suddenly asked, "Master, why you be looking like Thief
Fletcher?"
"Well," said Harry, "Fletcher was a member of the Order, and today he was on guard duty
when I brought him here. If they do not see him at the end of his shift, then they will assume
that he died or was killed when he was on guard duty, and due to that, some amount of
suspicion would fall on me, however small." Harry smirked before continuing, "That's why I'm
Polyjuicing to be in his place at the end of the shift, which is in half an hour, so that an Order
member will remember seeing Fletcher leaving the Guard post safely. When they will learn
about this, they will assume that he died or was killed after he left the Guard post, and so no
suspicions will fall on me."
Kreacher listened to his Master's brilliant plan and was awed by his thoughtfulness. After a few
moments, he posed another question.
"Master, when will you be returning?" he asked.
"I'll try to return as soon as I can," said Harry sincerely. "In the mean time, if I need any
assistance – say more books or some food – I'll summon you."
"Kreacher will be happy to serve," said the old Elf, bowing once again.
"I've got to leave now. I'll take the Knight Bus to get there," muttered Harry to himself.
"Kreacher, can you quickly gather my possessions?"
Kreacher nodded and snapped his fingers. As Harry looked on, the clothes which he had
removed on changing into Fletcher were quickly folded, the duffle bag – which had been on
the table – was lying at his feet, and the potion box was next to it, with his glasses that he
had removed placed on top of it. The two wands were lying next to the glasses. The things
that Harry had taken from Fletcher at Privet Drive was lying on top of the neatly folded
Invisibility Cloak
Harry quickly rushed forward and picked up his glasses. Putting them in his shirt pocket, Harry
quickly pulled the mouth of the duffle bag open and stuffed his clothes into it, along with the
potion box. The items from Fletcher were also tossed inside, with the Invisibility Cloak finally
resting on top of all the things inside the bag, so that it could be easily and quickly accessed.
Placing the wands in his pockets, Harry staggered to his feet, the extra body mass making it
difficult to maintain balance.
Once he was standing steadily on his feet, Harry quickly bid Kreacher adieu, picked up the
deceptively light duffle bag and hurried out of the Drawing Room, down the staircase, past the
plaque of Elf heads, and into the entrance hallway of Grimmauld Place. Harry quickly rushed to
the portrait of Walburga Black and opened the curtains.
Mrs. Black was awake and looking at him with a critical eye. After a while, she asked, "What is
your plan, Harry?"
"I think Kreacher will be able to explain it to you later, lady. Right now I'm in a hurry. I came
here to say farewell," said Harry hurriedly.
Mrs. Black just nodded imperiously and said, "Farewell, young Heir."
Harry nodded back and with a swift bow, he rushed out of the house through the front door.
As the door closed, Harry could hear the sounds of various locks clicking and sliding shut,
barring anyone from entering the house without permission. This had never happened before,
but Harry assumed that this was the result of the Wards being activated to full power.
Now on the empty streets outside of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry looked around to
see if anyone was looking outside. While he would become immune to Ministry Law when he
became a Hunter, currently he was still a teenager and subject to the Decree for the
Restriction of Underage Sorcery as well as bound by the ICW's Statute of Secrecy. After
confirming that there were no spectators, Harry drew Fletcher's crooked wand from his pocket
and stuck out his wand hand, just like he had accidentally done in the beginning of his third
year.
There was a deafening BANG and Harry quickly stumbled backwards, not wanting to be
squashed under the vehicle that had just appeared. A triple-decker, violently purple bus with
gold lettering over the windscreen that spelled The Knight Bus, had suddenly appeared out of
thin air.
As Harry watched, a familiar conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to
speak a familiar speech.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard," said Stan
Shunpike in his loud voice, "Just stick out your. . . "
The pimpled man stopped abruptly when a wand was shoved under his nose.
"Shut your trap and get moving, or I'll shove this wand where the sun doesn't shine," said
Harry in Fletcher's gruff voice. He was running out of time, and here this idiot was wasting his
time reciting his useless speech.
"A. . . A'right, Sir," squeaked Stan in fear, "Co. . . Come on in."
Harry quickly got inside and saw that the arrangement was different now. When he had
traveled by this bus the last time, it had been full of brass bedsteads. Now, it was crammed
with an assortment of mismatched chairs grouped haphazardly around the windows. Quickly
occupying the empty seat near the entrance to the bus, Harry sat down before the bus moved
again and tossed him around, the duffle bag enchanted with a Featherweight Charm in his lap.
Stan was standing nearby, glancing fearfully at the short-tempered squat man who had just
now threatened him. He wanted to inform the man that he was occupying the conductor's
chair, but he decided not to in case the man fulfilled his earlier threat. So instead he asked in
a stuttering voice, "W. . . Where'd ya like ta go, Sir?"
"Magnolia Crescent, Surrey," the man muttered gruffly. "How much will it cost?"
"Nine Sickles," said Stan, "but for eleven Sick. . . "
"Shut up and take this," the man growled, holding out nine Sickles in his hand. Stan
immediately quieted down and took the money with quivering hands. As he put it in his money
pouch, he nearly dropped as the man suddenly turned to look at him.
Harry smirked to himself as he saw Stan shaking like a leaf in the wind. 'Mission
accomplished!'
The idiot had been shouting Harry's name very loudly last year when he and his friends had
taken a ride back to Hogwarts, and that could have been the cause of an attack on Harry and
his friends if a Death Eater had by chance heard that they were traveling without proper
protection. (And only Lupin and Tonks as guards was not proper protection, as much as he
hated to admit it.) This guy had nearly endangered their lives by not keeping his loud mouth
shut, and Harry was extracting payback for that. Now at least he would think twice before
opening that trap of his.
"Take 'er away, Ern. Surrey first," said Stan, gripping a nearby support pole very hard.
There was another loud BANG and the bus started moving again. Harry held the hand rests of
his chair tightly so that he would not be flung around in the bus like a rag doll.
As he looked out of the window, Harry could see that the bus was moving at ridiculously high
speeds and it did not collide with anything, because everything – lamp posts, letter-boxes,
bins – jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.
After a few minutes of speeding in the wrong direction, the bus once again came to a stop
with a BANG on the somewhat familiar ruined park of Magnolia Crescent. Harry quickly hefted
his duffle bag before Shunpike could say anything and got out of the purple bus. Striding away
from the bus – which had disappeared with another BANG – Harry quickly walked towards
Privet Drive to reach his relatives' home on time before the Order member arrived. Opening
the duffle bag in mid-stride, Harry quickly pulled out the borrowed Invisibility Cloak and
gripped it tightly in one hand. Closing the mouth of the duffle bag, he slung it over his
shoulder and gripped the strap with the other hand. Unfolding the Invisibility Cloak, Harry
quickly threw it over his shoulders.
Anyone watching the scene would have seen a short squat man suddenly become invisible as
he was walking briskly.
Dedalus Diggle was a member of the Order of the Phoenix – a secret vigilante organization
created by Albus Dumbledore to fight against Darkness. He had fought in the First Wizarding
War against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He had been a member of the Advance
Guard – a special Team selected to escort Harry Potter from his home to the Order
Headquarters – last year.
At the moment he was heading towards the house he had visited last year. His job was the
protection of Harry Potter. Dedalus had always liked the lad since he had defeated You Know
Who in 1981. He had seen the lad several times when he had been out shopping and he had
bowed in greeting. When they had finally met face to face in the Leaky Cauldron, Dedalus had
been surprised that the lad had remembered him from the shop. That had increased his
admiration of the lad by several times.
When they had met again last year, the little lad had now grown into a strong young man, and
Dedalus could see from the way he walked that the lad had been through a lot in his short life.
Yet the lad had not given up and forged ahead in face of the challenges and come out as the
victor. That had finally turned the admiration into frank respect.
As Dedalus walked towards Number Four Privet Drive – because Apparating there was not
possible due to the Wards around the house – he saw that the man who he had to relieve was
currently sitting under the window sill and appeared to be dozing. The man was a waste of
space, every Order member agreed on that, except the leader of the Order, Albus
Dumbledore. Dedalus did not know why Dumbledore was so insistent that Dung remain in the
Order. Even after last year's Dementor Disaster, Albus had ordered Fletcher to once again be a
guard here.
'At least the drunkard stayed here this time,' thought Dedalus to himself.
As he entered the lawn of Privet Drive with his own Invisibility Cloak, Dedalus noticed that
Fletcher did not have his Invisibility Cloak. But knowing that he would not get a proper answer
from the drunkard, he decided to forego the question. Approaching the window sill where the
thief was currently sitting, Dedalus could smell the faint traces of tobacco hanging in the air.
Dedalus sneered. 'So that's why he's still here. He brought his goods with him this time.'
Walking up to the man who was lazily dozing around, Dedalus prodded the thief with his foot.
The man twitched for a while before he looked around for the source of disturbance.
"Oi! Whaddya want?" the man asked, his voice slurred.
"Did Harry leave the house?" asked Dedalus, his voice concerned.
"Nah! The brat's been inside tha 'hole day!" Fletcher exclaimed. "Didn't even peep out tha
win'ow!"
"Well, that's good," said Dedalus. "It's time for you to leave, Fletcher. Now get going."
"Whaddya say?" the drunkard asked.
"I said get going!" said Dedalus, his voice rising a bit.
"Ah, so mah turn to watch the brat is over?" Fletcher slurred.
"Yes, now get lost."
"Otay!" the bumbling man said as he stumbled across the lawn and onto the street. He nearly
fell over as he crossed the pavement, holding onto the post-box of a resident. Righting
himself, the drunkard stumbled his way down the street, away from Dedalus Diggle's vision,
before disappearing around the corner.
Ten minutes later, soft footsteps could be heard approaching the back door of Number Four
Privet Drive. Slowly the sound became a bit louder and a slight huffing could be heard, but the
source of the noises was not visible.
Indeed, Harry Potter was currently hiding under the Invisibility Cloak that had at one time
belonged to a thief known as Mundungus Fletcher. The man had kindly given it to him before
his unfortunate death.
And right now Harry Potter was making full use of his new gift as he walked up the backyard
and to the back door to the house that was connected to the kitchen. Quiet mutterings could
be heard from the teenager as he was slowly making his way to the door.
"Damn, Potter, you should get an Oscar for that acting," muttered Harry to himself as he
grinned slightly, "Then again, fooling an Order member is very easy, especially when they are
old geezers like Diggle-Giggle."
"Didn't even ask for the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry, shaking his head sadly before smirking,
"Well, his loss, my gain, isn't it?"
"Well, that stumbling was quite real," muttered Harry, "Fletcher's really heavy, and the thief's
got nearly no muscles in his body. How he walks around is a surprise. I nearly collapsed from
the weight."
Walking up the few steps that led to the door, Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak and
knocked the door loudly as he yelled, "Aunt Petunia, I'm home!"
'I always wanted to do that!' Harry grinned as he heard his aunt shrieking from inside the
house.
» Next Chapter : Harry has returned to Privet Drive. But what about Dung? Where is he?
How did he die? What will Dumbledore do? Find out in the next chapter.
» AN : I have not specifically used the name in the story, only the description, but the ZPM is
the only tech from Stargate universe that I'm using right now. Later in the story, I may add a
few other techs if necessary. Any suggestions?
» Dumbledore's character in this story has been decided. He'll be a good-Dumbledore with a
'for the Greater Good' problem. I'll be writing a few stupid moments of Dumby. Who wants to
invite Grindelwald to distract him?
» I don't like stupid people like Stan, so to anyone who likes him, I'm sorry for his slight
bashing.
» I'll be using J.K.R's wand theory : someone defeats the owner, the allegiance of the wand
changes.
» Poll's still open. Results can be seen on profile page. There is still time. Vote for your
favorite girl.
Thank you, all my readers and reviewers, for reading the story, and this chapter! Please
review and tell me your opinions!
Review this Chapter
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Comedy is tragedy that happens to other people.
Nothing in the world is free – everything has its price.
People always encourage creativity. The urge for destruction is also a creative urge.
People ask for criticism, but they only want praise.
Children throw stones at frogs for fun, but the frogs don't die for 'fun', but in sober
earnest.
Be ready to fight for what you believe until you drop dead. That's what keeps you
alive.
Even a mouse can kill a cat if the cat doubts itself.
* * * * * Chapter 8 * * * * *
*|* Death & Dumbledore *|*
In the Wizarding World, there were many types of people. Some were rich, others were poor.
Some lived in ramshackle cottages while others lived in huge, handsome and elegant manor
houses. Some people lacked common sense while some were intelligent. Some worked in
offices while others owned businesses. Some were hard workers while some were thieves.
Some were magically weak, some were powerful and there were very few who were extremely
powerful.
In the Wizarding World, power was in three forms : political, monetary, and magical. Some
had none of these, some had one of there, some had a combination of two of these, but there
were very few who had all of these.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was one such person. Considered by many as a
genius, the greatest wizard of the generation, and by some as the second coming of Merlin,
everyone thought about Albus Dumbledore; either with the intention to praise him or to curse
him. The man was magically powerful, he had political clout nationally as well as
internationally, and though he was known to be rich – he had worked with an Alchemist, after
all – no one knew the exact amount of money in his Vault.
Currently, Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office located inside the Headmaster's Tower of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was early morning, nearly 8 : 20 p.m.. Usually
during school days, he would be occupying his throne-like chair in the Great Hall, listening to
the morning hustle-bustle of the students who had just woken up and were very hungry. But
fortunately for him, the school was not in session since it was the summer holidays.
For that reason only, Albus had woken up rather late. First he had brushed his teeth with his
favorite lemon-and-mint flavored toothpaste. Then he had taken a bath in his huge bathtub
filled with rose-scented water, after which he had to decide which robes to wear for the day –
there was a mental clash between an orange robe covered with little brooms and a pink robe
with yellow flowers. Finally he had decided to wear a purple robe with varieties of sweets on
them, which were constantly moving all over the robes. Then he had brushed his silvery beard
while meditating – during which he had been trying to decide whether to braid it or not.
Deciding to leave it as it always was, he put on a matching purple hat covered with shooting
stars and also put on his half-moon glasses to cover his twinkling blue eyes. Then he had
moved to sit in his comfortable office chair.
Sitting in the enchanted office chair, Albus noticed the sunlight coming in through the open
windows, and he noted that he was running rather late than his usual schedule. Deciding to
head to the Great Hall for breakfast, he quickly closed his office doors - which locked
themselves automatically once he tapped them with his wand – and quickly stepped on the
revolving staircase to his office.
As he calmly walked to the Great Hall, Dumbledore reflected on what had happened near the
end of the previous school year. They had lost Sirius in the Battle of the Department of
Mysteries, and Nymphadora had been injured and had to be admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital
due to the seriousness of her injuries. And because of Sirius's death, the Order Headquarters
of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had been compromised. It was no longer a suitable base
of operation, so they were required to find a new place for their meetings.
Then there was the Ministry. For an entire year, they had been denying the return of Lord
Voldemort and they had launched a smear campaign against himself and Harry to discredit
both of them. They had tried to take control over Hogwarts and had been successful for some
time. But when the Dark Lord had finally made an appearance in the Ministry Atrium, with the
Minister and several Aurors as witness, the Ministry had been forced to admit that the Dark
Lord had returned.
So after that revelation, Dumbledore had been reinstated as the Hogwarts Headmaster and
the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, though he had not been reinstated to his position as the
Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.
Now there where talks in the Ministry about Fudge being ousted on the grounds of his
incompetence, though the Minister was still holding his ground. Dumbledore had decided quite
earlier on that he would take a "no comments" non-interference policy in this debate. Because
he knew that even a word from his mouth would change the flow of tide for Fudge.
Voldemort and his loyal Death Eaters were lying low at the moment. It was obvious to the old
sorcerer that Voldemort had been badly injured during his attempt at the possession of Harry
Potter.
Harry Potter, now that was another interesting topic for him. That boy was really amazing.
Even in the face of certain death, the boy had not quailed and his courage had not failed him.
Even though his friends had been injured, he had continued to fight and not once had he
faltered. And even though he had looked dead tired, the boy still had the power to throw Tom
out of his mind during the attempted possession. And he still had energy left after foiling the
attempted possession to destroy half his office and yell at him. Simply put, the child was . . .
he couldn't find the proper word for it.
The boy had had a sad aura around him when he had left the school for the train platform, but
Dumbledore had seen the glint of determination shining brightly in his emerald eyes. That had
comforted him to some extent. Most people lost the will continue with their lives when they
lost someone dear to them, but Harry was not like that. He had been knocked down a lot of
times, but he still had the courage and fighting spirit left in him to stand back up and push
forward. He knew that if push came to shove, Harry Potter would not go down without a fight.
Dumbledore had always believed that the power mentioned in the prophecy was love. He
believed that it was Harry's ability to love that set him apart from creatures like Voldemort.
Love had protected him when he was a child, love had saved him during the possession, and
Albus believed that love would also save him when he fought Voldemort for the final time.
Because love was one of the greatest mystery of life, and it was the most powerful emotion
that any human being could feel. It was love that would save the Wizarding World, he was
sure of that.
Albus Dumbledore did not realize how apt he was. Love would indeed save the world, but it
would be because the one man who could save the world would take up the weapons so that
he could protect his loved ones from death, even at the cost of his own life. Just like his
mother had done for him.
Everything had been going smoothly and quietly for a while now. Even though the Ministry had
declared the return of Lord Voldemort, there had been no attacks. The Ministry claimed
through the Daily Prophet that the peaceful atmosphere was maintained because of its Auror
forces which were conducting regular patrols all over Britain, whether on foot or on brooms.
The war was in a state of unresolved conflict. Now one knew how long the stalemate was
going to last, but everyone knew that the war had indeed begun. There were signs
everywhere that Darkness was on the rise once again.
As Dumbledore turned around the corner of the last corridor he had been traversing to reach
the doors of the Great Hall, he thought of the one important piece of information that
Mundungus Fletcher had managed to procure for him. He had been informed that the activity
in Knockturn Alley had increased. There were hags and other unpleasant people roaming
around the alley even during day time without fear of Ministry prosecution. The shopkeepers
of Knockturn Alley had also started stocking up on many illegal and non-tradable substances,
less used, precious, costly and potentially dangerous potion ingredients, as well as quite a
large number of artifacts that were considered to be enchanted with Dark Magic. There was
quite a stir in the dark alley now a day. But nothing seemed to imply Death Eater involvement
in them, so Albus considered them to be an acceptable reaction, as there would have to be a
commotion in Knockturn Alley due to the sudden announcement of the Dark Lord's return.
When Dumbledore reached the Great Hall, he noticed that the daily newspaper had not yet
been delivered. Not that he read it; he had his subscription cancelled last year. Taking his
regular seat at the middle of the Head Table, Albus filled his plate with as much as he could of
the delicious breakfast made by the Hogwarts House Elves. There were few teachers present
for breakfast, which he noted. He knew that some had left for their vacation, while there were
others who decided to eat in their quarters, since breakfast was no longer mandatory for Staff
members. (During school days, it was compulsary for every teacher to attend the breakfast,
lunch and dinner; unless they had a valid reason not to.)
Currently seated at the Head Table along with him were Professor Flitwick, Professor
McGonagall and Hagrid. Albus knew that Severus and Poppy were in their respective quarters,
and Sybil was probably holed up in her residence in the North Tower reading tea leaves and
gazing into Crystal Orbs. Other than those sitting at the table, they were the only Staff
members still at Hogwarts. (Binns did not count, as he was dead and was taken into account
as a ghost.)
"Good morning, Minerva. How are you today?" asked Albus jovially as he began eating his
breakfast.
McGonagall swallowed the food in her mouth slowly before answering slowly, "I'm quite well,
Albus. The castle seems different, a bit more peaceful rather than its usual hectic self, though
one can sense the absence of the students."
Albus nodded happily, knowing that it was true. The children had always been the life of this
castle.
"Do you want to hear a new joke I recently heard, Minerva? It's about the mermaid and a
sailor. . . "
"Not now, Albus. I have to return to my office for grading some extra credit papers," said
McGonagall briskly.
Dumbledore just sighed and nodded. 'No one wants to hear my jokes anymore,' he thought
petulantly.
As breakfast continued, there was suddenly the sound of wings fluttering and Dumbledore
looked up from his plate to see the post owls entering through the upper windows of the
castle. There were three of them; all of them brown medium-size barn owls. The three owls
held the rolled up Daily Prophet in their talons and were heading for Filius, Minerva and
Hagrid. Not interested in finding out what the latest controversies and rumors discussed by
the populous were, Albus once again turned his attention back to his food.
Hearing a whizzing sound coming from somewhere, Albus looked up to identify the source of
the noise. As soon as he looked up, what appeared to be a small, grey, feathery ball collided
with the side of his head.
"OUCH!" exclaimed the old Headmaster, clutching the side of his head in pain.
The other Professors who were about to untie the thread binding their rolled newspapers
looked up at the sudden exclamation. They looked up to see the Headmaster trying to catch a
small owl that was zooming around his head twittering madly, dodging the old man's swiping
hands, becoming even more excited at every unsuccessful attempts by the Headmaster's to
catch it.
Shaking their heads at the Headmaster's attempts to make a fool out of himself, the
Professors once again turned to their previous job of untying the newspaper.
Finally Dumbledore managed to catch the small midget-owl and untied the parchment from its
legs. The parchment was faded yellow and a bit crumpled, but otherwise he could recognize
the familiar writing of Molly Weasley, though it appeared that the letter was penned in a hurry.
Quickly opening the letter, Dumbledore read the very short letter, which was very untypical of
Molly. It read :
READ THE DAILY PROPHET, ALBUS!
IMMEDIATELY!
Frowning that Molly was urging – or rather commanding – him to read his hated periodical,
Dumbledore decided to acquiescent her request.
Just as he turned to McGonagall to borrow her copy of the Daily Prophet, Dumbledore heard
Hagrid gasp loudly as he looked at the newspaper clutched in his hands in shock and horror.
McGonagall too appeared to be shocked by something as she was covering her mouth with her
hands as her normal strict composure fled. Filius was scrambling on the floor, from where he
had fallen off his piled-up cushions, in surprise.
Wanting to know what news had caused such an adverse reaction from the most composed
individual at Hogwarts (apart from himself and Severus) and from the normally unflappable
Dueling Champion, Dumbledore was about to inquire the cause of their dismay when he found
the Daily Prophet shoved in his face.
As he gripped the newsprint and unfolded it to read it properly, Dumbledore read the headline
of the article and his face tightened as the twinkling in his eyes dimmed slightly. Printed in
large words on the front page was the worst news he could receive right now.
Dead Body Found Near Borgin and Burkes
Today, early in the morning, a body was found near a shop known as Borgin and Burkes in the
premises of Knockturn Alley by the owner the shop, Mr. Oliver Borgin. The shop offers
confidential valuation service for unusual and ancient Wizarding artifacts, such as may have
been inherited by the best Wizarding families.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has issued an official statement about the
identity of the dead person, and also about the cause of death. The man's identity has been
confirmed to be Mundungus Fabian Fletcher, 42. Auror Investigators who investigated the
crime scene briefly revealed that the man did not have any traces of magic being used on
him.
But in an official report filed in the publicly-accessible Room of Records at the Ministry of
Magic, it has been found that the man's body was fully covered with large yellow boils from
both inside and outside. It has been stated that a sufficient quantity of undiluted Bubotuber
pus had been found inside the body's stomach. It is not known whether the man was
intentionally fed the pus or whether he accidentally ingested it; though the Investigators are
inclined to believe the latter reason because of the large number of alcohol bottles
(Firewhisky, specifically) that have been recovered from the man's cloak.
It might be possible that the man was drunk and accidentally consumed the very dangerous
undiluted Bubotuber pus directly. This theory may be true, since the man is a known heavy
smoker and drinker, and also a thief who has been arrested by Aurors for various petty thefts.
Mr. Fletcher has no known family or friends, but even so, the Daily Prophet would like to give
our condolences to people who knew him well.
Proper ways of handling undiluted Bubotuber pus (Cont. page 2, column 1)
Uses of diluted Bubotuber pus in Beautifying Potions (See page 8, column 4)
Sacharissa Tugwood, who is she? (See page 8, column 1)
Dangers of Drinking (See page 11, column 9)
Albus was saddened at the news, though it did not fully show itself on his emotionless outer
façade. He had his own suspicions and speculations as to what might have been the true
cause of Mundungus Fletcher's death. The main – and most plausible – one was that the poor
man must have been snooping around Knockturn Alley and poking his nose where he should
not have. He might have intervened on some important dealing and someone must have
caught him. And so to prevent him from spilling their secrets, they must have fed him the pus.
Dumbledore knew that there were many apothecaries in Knockturn Alley where undiluted
Bubotuber Pus was sold. And one of those shop owners might have been involved in Dung's
murder. And the scenario that was published in the Daily Prophet was also a distinct
probability, one that could not be dismissed, as Dung had been known to steal a lot of things
and might have mistaken the pus for Firewhisky. (Firewhisky was orange and Bubotuber pus
was yellowish-green – to a drunken man, there would not be much difference as he would be
in stupor due to his drinking.)
But the major setback was that his one and only informant in the seedier circles of the
Wizarding World had died. Though Dumbledore felt sad for the loss of Dung's life, he knew
that certain sacrifices had to be made for the Greater Good. And though he had not intended
to sacrifice Dung at the moment, Albus knew that the thief would have certainly met his end
soon one of these days because of his unlawful profession.
Quietly mourning for the loss of his Order member and informant, as well as the loss of life of
a human being, Dumbledore folded the newspaper and kept it on the table. Looking at the
other Order members present at the moment, Dumbledore noticed that McGonagall had wiped
off her tears and Hagrid was currently making a good use of the table cloth of the Head Table
as a handkerchief. Filius's face was solemn but his eyes were showing his anger. Dumbledore
did not have to think for long before he gave new orders to be carried out.
"Call all the Order members. We are having an emergency meeting in my office. Tell them to
arrive within an hour," said Dumbledore, his tone commanding, before standing up from his
seat and leaving the Great Hall, moving towards his office with surprising speed for someone
so old.
The sun had risen early as it was wont to during the summer season. This early in the
morning, there was no indication of the sweltering heat that would be felt later in the day;
now it was cool and there was even a pleasant morning breeze, making the atmosphere quite
pleasant.
In Privet Drive, the atmosphere was the same. There were several people who were jogging
on the pavements and were enjoying the surprisingly cool breeze as they continued their
morning activities. Some residents had risen early and were currently watering their lawn.
Others were cleaning their cars and getting ready for work.
In the lawn of Number Four Privet Drive, Elphias Doge was currently doing his work, which
was guarding the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. He had been here since three hours after
midnight, when he had relieved his good friend Dedalus Diggle, and he would be here till
noon, which was when he would be replaced by the thief Mundungus Fletcher.
There had been no disturbances during his shift, and today's morning had been especially
good, what with the weather being so pleasant. There was a breeze blowing and it was
soothing to his old body, since he had been sitting under the window sill keeping watch from
the time he had arrived and for the entire time, he had not vacated his post. The hiding spot
was slightly uncomfortable because of the ornamental bushes, but now that he could feel the
cool breeze, he felt a bit more comfortable. Everything was so peaceful and silent.
The peace and silence was disturbed when his Order Pendant began vibrating. Quickly
removing the pendant from within the folds of his cloak, Elphias held the vibrating Phoenix
pendant in his hands. After a few moments, the vibrating stopped and Elphias could hear the
voice of Minerva McGonagall issuing from the charmed pendant.
"All members of the Order are recalled immediately. There is an emergency. Report in an hour
at Hogwarts. The emergency meeting is in the Headmaster's Office. Password for admittance :
Fizzing Whizzbees. Make haste."
The order was repeated twice more, but Elphias had already stuffed the pendant in one of his
many cloak pockets and he was quickly moving out of Privet Drive, hidden under his
Invisibility Cloak. Just outside the approximate range of the Wards around Privet Drive,
Elphias turned on the spot and vanished in a swirl of robes; not that he was visible to anyone
before he had vanished.
» Next Chapter : Harry gathers his ammunitions and prepares himself for his Hunter
Qualification Tests. But where to find the equipment? A trip to Diagon & Knockturn Alley?
Maybe a quick stop at Grimmauld Place?
» The contents of the flask have been finally revealed. So, how did you like my way of killing
Dung? I know that this chapter is short, but I couldn't just cram everything I wanted in it. It's
somewhat like an interlude.
» AN : Sacharissa Tugwood is a known Potter verse character. She is mentioned in Chocolate

Frog Cards in the games.
» Dumbledore may come off as a fool, but that's how he is like in the books. He becomes
serious if the situation calls for it; otherwise he is happy and gay. (Pardon the pun.)
» I'm going to introduce the Ancient Healing Device from Stargate in a few chapters. It's also
going to be somewhat related to DH. Any guesses about how I'm going to do it?
» The poll is still going on, and the last time I checked, Daphne Greengrass is in the lead,
followed by the beautiful Fleur Delacour. The third place competition has been tough with
Narcissa, Hermione and Tonks fighting for the position. But there's still time, so you can still
vote for your favorite girl.
» Thank you, all my readers and reviewers! I hope you like this chapter, and that you are
anticipating the next one. (It may take some time because I'm still undecided if I should
include some more action in it or not.)
» This is my special thanks to an anonymous reviewer A Stern Critic. I thank you for your
advice. But the Knife sentence was Harry's contemplation of the basic uses of a weapon, not
my description. The story will be picking up pace in the next few chapters, but the descriptions
are somewhat necessary for the future plot. I know that all my readers have read HP books,
but this information is not just a complete rehash of the canon. It is important for the
explanation of the story.
Review this Chapter

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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
This chapter is my tribute to Robert Knox, who played the role of Marcus Belby in HBP, and
who passed away on May 24, 2008. He was stabbed when he was defending his younger
brother. May his soul rest in peace.
Jedem das Seine. – To each his own.
Where there is no vision, people perish.
Everybody is ignorant, only on different subjects.
Idleness is only the refuge of weak minds.
Some people laugh at everything, for fear of having to weep at it.
Walk with hope in your heart and you'll never walk alone.
By nature men are alike. Through practice they have become far apart.
* * * * * Chapter 9 * * * * *
*|* Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment *|*
The sunlight streamed into the smallest bedroom of Number Four Privet Drive through the
open window, falling on the nearly broken bed with tattered mattresses. The bed was
currently empty, but lying on it were things that were called clothes but looked like rags.
The door of the bedroom opened with a creak and a teenager crept inside. The kid was of
average height for someone of his age – somewhere near 5" 8' – and he was wearing clothes
that were several sizes too large for him. His emerald green eyes were hidden behind a pair of
round-framed black spectacles, but they were not held together by cello tape as they had
been when he had been an eleven-year-old.
Harry had completed his daily morning exercise (Oliver Wood's Quidditch fitness regime from
his third year), finished his morning rituals and had a quick shower before the baby killer
whale woke up and used up all the water.
Quickly dressing himself in his second-hand clothes, Harry entered the bedroom and also put
on the clothes he had picked up from Number Twelve Grimmauld Place yesterday. He looked
at the corner of the room near the window where his snowy white owl Hedwig was sleeping
with her head under her wing.
Today he had planned a for trip to Diagon Alley as well as Knockturn Alley, but Harry knew
that he would have to be careful in getting past and avoiding the Order members stationed
nearby. He opened his duffle bag and got out the money bags that he had taken from the
Black Storage Room; he also emptied what money he had 'borrowed' from Fletcher into the
money bags, taking care to separate the Galleons, Sickles and Knuts and putting them away
in their respective bags so that they would not get mixed. His own money bag was lying at the
bottom of his expanded school bag, but he had already decided that he was not going to use
the money from his Gringotts Vault unless it was absolutely necessary. He had the Black
Family money for spending, after all. No sense in wasting his own money when he had the
fortune of an old Pureblood family.
Harry snorted. 'How ironic,' he thought to himself with a smirk, 'I'm going to use the money of
a Dark Pureblood Family to destroy the Dark Pureblood Families.'
Then he thought of what he was going to buy in the two alleys. He had no idea what to
purchase, and he was not Hermione to sit down and write a shopping list. Harry decided that
he would browse through the stores and see if he found anything useful. Who knew what half
the shops in the alleys had. One could not guess the contents of a shop by reading the name
plaque and the shop's appearance. That would be just stupid.
As he contemplated on what would be considered useful to a Hunter, Harry suddenly felt a

vibration from one of his cloak pockets. Quickly searching for the source of the sudden
disturbance, Harry's hand grazed the Order Pendant that he had taken from Fletcher
yesterday. It was the source of the vibration. Holding it in his hands, Harry heard the voice of
Professor Minerva McGonagall coming from the charmed Order Pendant.
"All members of the Order are recalled immediately. There is an emergency. Report in an hour
at Hogwarts. The emergency meeting is in the Headmaster's Office. Password for admittance :
Fizzing Whizzbees. Make haste."
The order was repeated twice more, but Harry was not paying any attention to it. He was sure
that by now the Order must have received the news of Mundungus Fletcher's death, and his
body must have been found. Harry knew for sure that he would not be under any suspicion
from the Order or the Ministry. Stuffing the pendant in his pockets, Harry smiled grimly; his
first personal mission had been a success.
Then he frowned. What if Fletcher's Order pendant had been in the hands of the Ministry?
They would have known that Dumbledore was calling the meeting of his vigilante secret
organization at Hogwarts, and that would have resulted in the Ministry arriving at Hogwarts
and arresting all the Order members. Fudge would have loved if he could catch Dumbledore
doing illegal activities, and that too with proof. Then he would be able to discredit
Dumbledore, and no one would be able to deny it as he had the proof.
Looking out of the bedroom window, Harry could see the slight shimmering of an Invisibility
Cloak. Seeing that, he knew at once that whichever Order member had been guarding him
had left for the meeting.
The frown deepened as Harry continued his mental diatribe. What if Tommy Boy and his
Moronic Munchers attacked right now? He had no protection (Well, he had Dung's wand, but
that was not the problem) as the Order member had disappeared and he could not expect any
back up from the Order.
And what if Tommy Boy – or one of his minions – had found the pendant? Tommy would have
known where the Order was gathering and he could attack Hogwarts. Or he could order Lady
Lucy Malfoy to inform Fudge that Dumbledore was gathering his secret army at Hogwarts, and
then the imbecile incompetent Minister would send all his Aurors to arrest the old coot and his
Bird Watching Club.
Harry shook his head clear of such thoughts, though he silently marveled at the stupidity of
the Order members, as well as the old coot, the so called greatest wizard of the generation.
Now that he was sure that his Order Watcher had left his post, Harry decided that now would
be the best time to head for his trip. He would have a double advantage. First, no one– mainly
the Order – would know that he had left the house. Second, in the event of Voldemort's
attack, he would be safe as he would not be in the house.
Swiftly gathering all his important things, Harry quickly headed out of the bedroom. The
school bag – which contained the duffle bag, the two invisibility Cloaks, and the money
pouches – was on his shoulders, his one hand holding the straps while his other hand held
Fletcher's crooked wand. His own wand was safely inside one of the pockets of his cloak.
As he reached the staircase of the house, Harry paused. If he walked down in his current
attire, his relative would be pissed, not to add that he could not roam in the Muggle World
while wearing a cloak, not that he had much to see or but in the Muggle World. But to escape
from Privet Drive, he would have to make sure that he would not be seen.
Reaching the obvious conclusion, Harry quickly removed Fletcher's Invisibility Cloak from the
bag and covered himself with it. Disappearing from view, Harry quietly crept down the
staircase, taking care to not step on the creaky stair. Reaching the ground floor, Harry quickly
moved towards the front door and was relieved to find that it was not locked.
Getting out of the house was not much difficult and soon Harry was walking down the path to
Magnolia Crescent playground where he had arrived last night on the Knight Bus. Stuffing the
Invisibility Cloak into the bag, Harry held out his wand hand. He heard the trademark BANG
as the Knight Bus arrived. The conductor was not Stan Shunpike this time, but someone else
that he did not recognize.
Paying the eleven Sickles necessary for the trip to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry quickly found
himself a seat and held on to it tightly. As the bus disappeared from Magnolia Crescent with
another BANG and a jerk, Harry smiled to himself.
The Leaky Cauldron was a tiny, grubby-looking pub when one observed it from the outside.
Most of the people who were hurrying by did not even glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big
book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they could not see the Leaky
Cauldron at all. And they indeed could not. The pub was hidden from all the normal eyes by
powerful spells so that no random person could not wander inside and find the secret of the
Wizarding World's existence. Only those who knew of the pub's existence could see it.
The door of the Leaky Cauldron made no noise as Harry slowly pushed it open. Looking inside,
Harry saw that it was still very dark and shabby on the inside, even in the day. Pulling his
hood up while shaking his head, Harry entered the pub and noticed that it was not as crowded
as it had been during his previous visits. There were very few patrons who were sitting at
tables nursing their drinks or smoking long pipes, and Tom the Barman was behind his bar
cleaning the glasses with a cloth. He looked up when he saw Harry enter, but on noticing that
the hood was covering his face, Tom returned to what he had been doing before Harry's
arrival.
Harry did not say anything as he silently walked through the bar and headed out of the
backdoor of the pub. He entered into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a
dustbin and a few bags full of rubbish lying around. Pulling out the other wand, Harry counted
the bricks – three up and two across – before tapping the right brick three times with the
wand.
The brick he had touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it
grew wider and wider – a second later, he was facing a large archway that led to a cobbled
street which twisted and turned out of sight.
The alley was a lot quieter that Harry ever remembered it to be. Though it was not completely
empty, one could see that the news of Voldemort's return had affected the Wizarding populace
and its economy. There were many shops that were boarded up, while some shops had
customers who had their hoods up just like him. Everyone was scurrying around the alleys,
not wanting to be recognized and wasting more time than necessary in the alley, afraid that
Tommy Boy and his Moronic Minions would attack.
Harry quietly walked from the archway and continued to walk further into the alley. He was
looking at the signboards of the shops and then looking at the windows, trying to discern if
there was anything in the shops that could be of use to him. Most of the shops did not have
much of the contents displayed in the windows as many of them had been blocked with
wooden planks.
As Harry turned around a sharp corner of the Diagon Alley, he saw a signboard that said,
"Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment". The sign was a bit faded, with dust on the corners, but the
shop was obviously open, what with the large 'OPEN' sign that could be seen from the inside
of the glass door. The unblocked windows displaying various artifacts were another sign that
the shop was open for business.
Curious as to what the shop sold, Harry entered Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. The door
had a door bell that jingled as Harry opened the door. Walking into the shop, he could see that
it was a shop that sold various miscellaneous Wizarding items. There were a few used trunks
lying around in one of the corner of the shop. Various shelves displayed an assortment of
books; there was a small cabinet devoted to Sneakoscopes and there was a small, slightly
furry drawstring pouch with a long string lying on a nearby shelf.
There were several large bins containing piles of crinkled cloaks, along with colorful pointed
hats, crumpled work robes and thick, rugged winter robes of different sizes. There was a table
where the sign said that several minimally-used, undamaged tents were on sale. On that
table, Harry could see a few neatly packed and rolled-up tents that were lying next to each
other.
There were several telescopes and hourglasses on display. A small section of the long table
was laden with a few crystal balls and a pack of tarot cards that were used in Divination. Harry
shuddered in revulsion and quickly moved away from that particular table, not wanting to be
near the Divination items, a subject that could be considered a source of his current
megalomaniac Dark Lord problems.
As Harry searched for the shop owner – who was not behind the counter – he was surprised
when he heard a cheerful male voice suddenly say, "How may I help, good Sir?"
Quickly turning around, Harry spotted the speaker. The man was in his mid-forties, probably
nearly fifty. He was nearly-bald with a few tufts of white hairs at the back. He could not be
called fat, but he was certainly portly. Not all that tall, the man's shiny dome reached up to
Harry's shoulders. He was wearing a fancy magenta robes that Harry had only ever seen
Gilderoy Lockhart wear during his 'teaching career' at Hogwarts.
As Harry turned, the rotund man quickly greeted him in a jovial tone, "Greetings, good man!
Welcome to my shop! The name's Damocles, Damocles Belby! And who might you be?"
Harry glanced around the shop with a critical eye but did not answer the man's question.
Seeing his hood still up and finding no reply to his answer, Damocles seemed to take the hint
that Harry did not wish to reveal his identity.
"Ah, no problem, Sir! I know how these times are," said Damocles, shaking his head sadly,
"Everyone's in a hurry. This climate is very bad for business, very bad. No one's willing to get
out of their house!"
Harry once again focused his attention on Belby as he said, "Its human nature, Sir, to be
cautious during danger. Even wizards seem to understand that, which is good."
Damocles winced at the indirect insult to all wizards, but did not reply. Instead, he continued
to speak in his cheery voice, "Please call me Damocles, or Mr. Belby, whichever you prefer."
Harry just nodded, but once again he did not answer. Damocles was unperturbed and
continued, "Well, how can I help you this fine day, Sir?"
"What is the cost of a tent?" asked Harry, looking at the table where they were placed.
"Well, Sir, the cost of the tent depends on the internal size – meaning the number of rooms
inside," explained Damocles, before adding, "The quality of the material used and the charms
applied also affect the cost of the tent."
"How much would it cost me for a one man tent with the interior that includes a small
bedroom, a kitchen, a sitting room and a store room? Will it be fully equipped?" asked Harry.
"Also, I want it to be protected from all wild creatures – including humans – and from
weather. Avoiding detection from magic scanning will also be beneficial."
"Well, that's one big demand!" laughed Damocles, though he was searching through the
bundles of tents lying on the table. After a few minutes of searching, the only sound in the
shop being the ruffling of the tent cloth as Damocles nearly dived into the pile, the pudgy man
exclaimed out loudly "AHA!"
As the man emerged from the junk, Harry saw the man holding a folded-up tent in his hands
that was the size of a backpack in its current form. It was black in color, made from some type
of rough-and-tough material that Harry had never seen before. It looked like it had been used
before now, but that did not bother him. As long as the tent was up to his degree of protection
and perfection, even the interior furniture quality would not bother him.
"This, Sir," said Damocles, puffing his chest out proudly, "is one of the best tents you will find
that'll fit your requirements. It has a small kitchen, an empty store room, a furnished
bedroom, and a small sitting room."
The man paused for a few seconds to breathe before continuing, "It also has a few handy
charms on it like the standard Muggle-Repelling Charms, the Creature-Repelling Charms, the
Atmospheric Protection Charms, as well as a simpler version of the Anti-Detection Charms. It
also has a weak Notice-Me-Not Ward on it, but it has to be keyed to the owner. We can see it
right now because it has not been keyed to anyone."
"How much will it cost?" asked Harry curiously, finding the tent an interesting item.
"Well," said Damocles, hesitatingly, "it is not as cheap as it looks, as it is made from used
Dragon-hide vests. And as it is somewhat furnished, that'll add to the cost. And if. . . "
"What if I want to buy it?" asked Harry, interrupting Belby, "How much will it cost me if I want
to add some other essentials to the tent?"
The man paused, considering. "Well, without anything extra – as it is now – this will cost you
27 Galleons and 3 Sickles. Whatever you add will add to the cost."
Harry pondered over this bargain for a minute before answering, "That seems reasonable. So
what extra items do you have for the tent?" Harry looked at the man questioningly.
Damocles grinned and rushed towards one of the shelves, calling over his shoulders for Harry
to follow him. Harry followed the eager man calmly, while looking at the other junk cluttered
all over the shop. His eyes wandered over the oddments without really looking at them. At the
voice of Damocles, Harry once again returned his attention to the sop owner just in time to
hear what he was saying.
". . . and then I've got this bed, with Cushioning Charms on the mattresses, along with a few
chairs with the same charm," the man rambled on, "Then there's this table, a good sturdy
one, used a lot, but still quite useable. I've even got a leather couch here somewhere in the
back, I've got to look. . . "
Harry half-heartedly listened to the non-stop prattle until the man stopped to take a breath,
and then he quickly interrupted before Damocles could forge ahead.
"Alright, I'd like that bed, the mattresses too," said Harry. "I'll take two chairs and that table,
no need for that couch right now."
"That's all?" asked Damocles sadly.
"Well, this is just for me, isn't it? Just one person, not an entire group," said Harry, irritated.
"Oh, sorry," said the man, reddening slightly.
"Well, how much will the extras cost?"

"Um. . . " The man seemed to calculate out loud, and Harry could hear him mumbling to
himself, "Well, the bed's for 3 Galleons, the chairs for 1 Galleon 8 Sickles, table is 2 Galleons 6
Sickles. 17 Sickles to a Galleon, so total. . . "
Finally, Damocles said out loud to Harry, "The final amount will be 34 Galleons, Sir."
Harry nodded as he reached into his school bag and drew out the money pouch containing
Galleons. Counting, 34 of them in his hands, he laid them on the counter.
His eyes fell on the small furry pouch and he remembered that he had to get a Space-
Expansion Charm on his duffle bag. Deciding to ask Damocles if he could perform the charm at
a cost, Harry removed the other bag from within his school bag and laid it down on the
counter. It was empty so the charm could be changed now.
When Damocles turned to the counter after putting the money in his pouch, his gaze shifted to
the duffle bag and he gaped at it. Harry noticed this and enquired as to what the problem.
"Sir, this. . . this. . . " Damocles stuttered for a moment before continuing, "This bag is an
antique piece, Sir. Not many of them are found nowadays, and mostly they are in
showrooms."
Harry saw the greedy gleam in Belby's eyes and looked at the duffle bag thoughtfully. While
the bag had been useful to him till now, it was not of much importance to him. Then there was
the fact that the charms could fail anytime, causing destruction of the things inside of the bag,
so it would not be much use to anyone else too. But if he could trade it. . .
Harry cleared his throat and Damocles looked up from greedily gazing at the bag. "Well, if you
want, I'll sell it to you," said Harry carefully laying out his proposal, "But what will I get in
return? As you said, this is after all an antique. If I sell it to the Goblins or a Museum, I'll get a
good prize." In the end, Harry was smirking, even though Belby could not see him.
The man appeared conflicted, but he finally steeled himself and presented his end of the
bargain. "Well, even though I run this shop, I'm a Potions Master," said Damocles, which
surprised Harry. "If you want, I'll prepare any potions you want me to prepare for you, in
exchange for this bag."
Though Harry was surprised, his mind was working in an overdrive. He knew that even though
he now had Regulus's potion box, he could not prepare many of the rare and dangerous to
make potions. So if he wanted to get them – and get them fresh – he would require the help
of an experienced Potions Brewer. And here was a Potions Master who was offering his service
for a simple duffle bag that was not of any use to Harry.
But Harry had another idea. With a glint in his emerald eyes, he turned to Damocles. "I have a
better proposition. How about. . . if I find you more of such antique items, you will work for
me and provide me with any potions I ask for 5 years?"
Damocles was shocked but he quickly composed himself and asked, "And how can you be sure
that you can provide me with such antiques?"
Harry's smirked wizened as he replied, "I have access to a store room full of such old artifacts.
I'll bring one of them to you every month and in return you will prepare the potions that I ask
for. Do we have an accord? I'll take a magical binding oath for this."
Damocles seemed to think over the deal quietly for a few minutes before finally replying, "I
agree." He held out his hand for shaking.
Harry took the offered hand and shook it. A bright blue light washed over the two of them and
flashed for a second before vanishing.
"Take the bag," said Harry as he picked up the tent and put it in his own bag. "In return, I
require a cauldron of Wolfsbane Potion ready before the next full moon."
The next full moon was in ten days, and he could send the potion to Remus and sell the rest to
an apothecary.
Damocles just nodded silently, holding the duffle bag in his hand reverently. Apparently, Harry
was mistaken that the bag was only a few decades old. But it appeared – from Belby's
reaction – that it was probably much older and much more precious than he had initially
assumed it to be. Oh well. . .
The man did not notice as Harry walked towards the exit. He did not notice as Harry opened a
small cabinet and took out a Sneakoscope that was in better condition than the rest. The man
was still stared at the antique bag in his hands as Harry picked up a few books from the
shelves and left the store with a smirk on his face.
The only sign of Harry leaving the shop was the jingling of the door bell as it closed after his
cloaked form.
A black cloaked man was moving through the nearly empty Diagon Alley without making much
noise. The man was shoving a few books and a small sphere-like object inside a bag, which he
shouldered after he finished with his work. He walked around the alley looking at the various
shops curiously, stopping once in a while to spy inside the shop through the open glass
windows.
As he was walking down the cobbled streets of the alley, the man spotted a newspaper lying
on the ground. Picking it up, the man saw that it was today's paper and he unfolded it to peek
at the news. When he read the front page article titled 'Dead Body Found Near Borgin and
Burkes', he smirked as his eyes scanned the rest of the article quickly. Smiling in satisfaction,
the man tossed the article in one corner before he continued on his path.
The man strode through the alley before finally stopping at a small gap between the shops.
There was a twisted alleyway that was connected to the gap, but nothing could be seen due to
the lack of sunlight in the place. There was a crooked signboard hanging over it that read :
KNOCKTURN ALLEY
DO NOT ENTER
For a moment, the man just looked at the sign before he snorted to himself and briskly walked
into darkened space between the two shops. The darkness seemed to swallow the man as he
walked further into the alley before disappearing from sight.
» Next Chapter : Harry made a sweet deal and now he finally enters the dark Knockturn
Alley. What will happen now? What – or rather who – will he find in there? Watch out for the
next chapter.
» To those who guessed the purpose of the Ancient Healing Device in this story, they are half-
right. It is indeed linked with the Resurrection Stone. But the function of the RS is not the
same here as it was in DH. Who can guess the function of the RS? (Hint : Think hard about
what the Healing Device does.)
» Yes, Damocles Belby in this story is the same one from HBP. He invented the Wolfsbane
Potion, and he will play a small but important part in this story.
» The pairing poll is soon going to be closed, so please vote for your favorite girls. Currently,
Daphne is in the lead with Fleur in second place. The third place has been conquered by
Tonks, who lags behind by just one vote. A tough competition between Hermione and Susan
for the fourth. If there are any ties at the closing of the poll for the second spot (most likely
between Tonks and Fleur), I'll have to make the tough choice of selecting one of them.
» Also, to the anonymous reviewer, I thank you for reading and loving my story. Also, I'm
sorry to say, but it is rule that only members can vote in the polls. But in the event of a tie, I'll
consider your two votes as the tiebreaker.
» The poll will be closing on 24th May, 2010. Then there will be a new poll, Readers! So keep
reading and reviewing! A huge thank you to all those who have read and reviewed my story.
Review this Chapter
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Andor Swiftblade
Author of 2 Stories
10 - Published: 05-01-10 - id:5937742
Get advice of everybody whose advice is worth having – they are very few – and
then do what you think best yourself.
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.
Never explain – your friends do not need it and your enemies will never believe you
anyway.
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
To succeed in any business, one has to believe that it is the best business in the
world. One has to put their heart in the business and the business in their heart.
Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but
once.
* * * * * Chapter 10 * * * * *
*|* Knock Knock & Wheezes *|*
The cobbled streets of Knockturn Alley were not covered with dirt and grime, which was quite
surprising. The place could not be considered clean at any rate, but it could also not be called
dirty. The seedy streets were now busier than they had ever been before. This was all due to
the return of the Dark Lord.
A person wearing a hooded cloak entered the alley and looked around for a moment. Not
much could be discerned about the man, since he was not prominent, wearing plain black
robes that every hardworking wizard wore.
Upon his entrance, the activity in the alleyway paused for a second, the shady dealers looking
up from their work and gazing at the new arrival. The visibility was poor and the torches at
random interval could not provide much light, and whatever light they provided just cast more
shadows on the man. The dark individuals just shrugged it off and returned to their work.
Harry looked around the alley from within the confines of his hooded robe with curiosity. He
had not seen much of the alley during his sudden and unintended visit during the beginning of
his second year, and he had not entered the alley since then, even when he had the
opportunity to visit it in his third year during the two weeks he had spent living at the Leaky
Cauldron. But at that time he had been somewhat intimidated by the dark and dreary alley,
and he also did not have any reason to visit it.
Looking around, Harry noticed that most of the walls in the alley had multiple cracks running
all over them. Many of the roof tiles of shops were broken or missing, and they were covered
with a lot of dust. Indeed, many of the surrounding shops were also not in good working
conditions; most appeared as if a sudden gust of wind would topple them over. The only
explanation of why the place was still standing, Harry concluded, was that it was held up with
magic. And that could be very troublesome, because even the slightest disturbance in the
magic supporting the structures would collapse the entire place.
As he walked around the twisting alleyway, Harry noticed that quite a few new shops had
opened from what he remembered. The alley was crowded with many shops, and there were
plenty of vendors displaying their goods on large trays.
From what he vaguely remembered of the alley, Harry suspected that Borgin and Burkes was
nearby, though he was not much sure. Barely glancing at the disgusting things that the
vendors were selling, Harry proceeded slowly into the alley. Harry knew that he could not
peep through the windows, because unlike Diagon Alley, the windows in Knockturn Alley were
covered with dirt and grime. Therefore, as he carefully treaded his path through the throng,
his eyes swiftly drifted over the street signs above every shop.
'Shrunken Skull, what am I gonna do with that?' thought Harry as he read a sign, 'Though
poisonous candles do have some merit. . . '
Not finding any interesting names, Harry decided that he should head to Borgin and Burkes. At
the turning, he could see a sign indicating the way to the shop. Walking towards his new
destination, Harry hoped that the shop would have something useful for him.
As the door of the shop open with a slight creak, Harry looked inside and noticed that Borgin
was standing behind his counter polishing a golden plaque with a brush. On hearing the door
being opened, Borgin looked up and noticed Harry standing outside, even though he did not
know who the person wearing the black cloak was.
The man looked at him with jaundiced eyes, baleful eyes. Harry carefully surveyed the shop
owner and the man measured the new arrival's threat. Neither said a word as both of them
looked at each other, waiting for the other to begin the conversation. Finally, Borgin seemed
to loose his patience. The shop owner put down the plaque he had been polishing and brushed
off his robes, before putting on a fake smile on his face.
"Yes, what can I do for you?" asked Borgin in an oily voice. Harry was somewhat reminded of
Snape when he heard Borgin.
"Well, Mr. Borgin, you could've started with introducing yourself," said Harry, and Borgin
reddened somewhat at the insult. "But since you did not, neither will I. So without further ado,
let's head to business."
Borgin straightened somewhat when he heard that, the prospect of finally getting his hands on
some gold entering his mind. He looked at the stranger that had entered his shop, and
wondered as to how much money he could swindle from the man.
"What are you looking for, Sir?" asked Borgin, his beady eyes shining with anticipation.
"I'm looking for an artifact that I've heard you're currently in possession of," said Harry.
"And what is that artifact," inquired Borgin, before quickly adding, "Sir."
"The artifact goes by the name of 'The Hand of Glory', and I'm certain that you know how it
functions," said Harry as he smirked at Borgin.
The man seemed to smile as he looked at Harry, showing his yellow teeth. "Ah, yes, the Hand
of Glory. It can hold a lamp or candle, and it gives light only to the user. Yes, yes, the best
friend of thieves and plunderers, it is called. It was nearly sold some time ago, but as you
might know, it is not a cheap item."
Harry nodded and simply asked, "How much?"
The man seemed to think for a bit, as he did not answer immediately. Inwardly, Borgin was
wondering how much he should state the price as, because if the man knew the name of the
rare item, then he would surely know its real price. And if the man perceived the high price as
cheating, then he could leave without buying, which would be a loss for Borgin. So he decided
to state a reasonable price that the stranger would agree with.
What Borgin did not – and would not - know was that Harry only knew the name of the thing
and its properties, but not its price.
After a moment, Borgin finally replied, "I'm willing to sell the Hand at a very reasonable price
of 50 Galleons."
Harry immediately countered, "No, that's too much. I will pay only 40 Galleons and not a Knut
more."
Borgin thought for a few seconds before saying, "45 Galleons, and I'll also add in a No-melting
Candle; those things are really rare."
Harry agreed to the bargain after a moments pause. Borgin happily went to the back of the
shop to get the Hand and the candle, while Harry carefully counted 45 Galleons and placed
them on the counter. Borgin quickly returned with the Hand of Glory in one hand and the No-
melting Candle in the other. He placed both items on the counter and immediately started
counting the pile of Galleons.
Harry picked up the candle and struck it into the Hand, and the Hand quickly gripped the
candle tightly. Harry tested the Hand's grip and made sure the candle would not fall down.
After that, he placed the artifact into his bag and headed towards the exit of the shop. As he
was nearly outside, he heard Borgin call from inside.
"Please come again, Sir. It was pleasure doing business with you."
Harry did not turn back or reply as he left the shop.

As he made his way past the hags and dealers roaming the streets of Knockturn Alley, Harry
was careful to avoid touching any of the disgusting things that they were carrying. Walking
swiftly towards the exit of the Alley, he was glad to find the small gap between the streets,
where the entrance/exit was located. Quickly getting out of the alley, Harry headed towards
the post office, which was located somewhere near Gringotts.
The reason for this sudden visit to the post office was hidden inside his cloak pocket. It was a
small sealed envelope which had a letter inside that was almost invaluable to Harry, because it
could, in a sense, be considered his ticket to freedom.
The white marble walls of Gringotts could be seen, but Harry quickly walked past them and he
immediately spotted his destination. The post office was larger than many of the shops in
Diagon Alley, and the reason for that was clear – the entire premises of the PO was full of
different types of owls. There were eagle owls, barn owls, hawk owls, and there were some
other birds like pigeons and parrots. As Harry looked around and heard the cacophony of the
birds, he just hoped that Hedwig never found out about this, because she would never forgive
him.
As soon as Harry stepped into the PO, a shop assistant immediately came forward. "How can
we help you, Sir?"
"I wish to send a mail," replied Harry.
"And where would you like to send it to?" inquired the assistant as he moved towards one of
the tables of the PO, with Harry following him.
"Well, you see, I'd like the destination as well as the name of the receiver to remain a secret,"
said Harry as he glanced around.
"Ah, so you'd like to send a confidential courier, am I right, Sir?" asked the assistant, a smile
on his face.
Harry was somewhat confused, and so decided to clarify his doubt. "Can you please
differentiate between confidential courier and a normal mail? Because unfortunately, I do not
know," he replied.
"No problem, Sir," said the assistant as he sat down, "Please have a seat and I'll explain."
"You see, a normal mail has the address of both the sender and the receiver, so it is easy for
the owls to deliver. But in case of confidential courier, there are no addresses written on the
envelope, so for that we have to use highly trained owls," the man said, then continued,
"What you have to do is to whisper the destination to your mail owl thrice, and then if it nods,
then you can give the letter to the owl and be safe in knowing that your letter will be
delivered. Just so you know, these owls have never failed to deliver a letter."
"Well, I'm glad," Harry replied absentmindedly as he thought over what the assistant's words.
As the assistant waited for his reply, Harry finally decided and said, "Well, I'd like to send a
confidential courier. So what is the cost?"
"Well, Sir, as we do not know of the destination, we assume that it can be anywhere in the
world, and so the cost is very high. And there is also the risk that the owl may not return, and
since there are highly trained owls, we charge extra as insurance. And since. . . "
"Alright, now can you please tell me the cost?" Harry said loudly, and the assistant stopped his
rant, looking sheepish.
"Uh, well, all confidential couriers have the same rate, even if your destination is your next
door neighbor, or someone on the other side of the planet. We charge the standard rate of 7
Galleons for each delivery."
"Oh. . . " muttered Harry. The price was high, but so was the importance of the letter being
delivered. So he had no other option but to go with this.
"Alright, I'd like to send my mail," said Harry as he got the envelope out.
"Wait a second and I'll get the owl, Sir," the assistant replied as he hurried to get hi work
done. He returned in a minute with a brown eagle owl resting on his arm. He put the owl on
the table and opened the drawer.
"Sir, we have a complimentary service for confidential couriers. You see, this bag," he held out
what looked to be a thick paper bag, "is charmed to be waterproof, so your delivery will not be
damaged in case of rain. And if the owl drops it by mistake – which has not happened till now
- it will return to you. All you have to do is tap it with your wand."
Harry took the brown bag and placed his envelope into it. As soon as he removed his hand,
the mouth of the bag sealed itself. Harry tapped the bag with his own wand, because in this
case he was not really using magic.
The assistant took the bag from Harry and tied it to the harness on the owl's talons. He then
tapped the harness and muttered a spell under his breath, which caused the owl to glow
yellow for a moment. Then he said to Harry, "Sir, please take the owl near the exit and
whisper the destination three times, clearly."
Harry did exactly that. The owl quickly took flight and soon disappeared over the roofs of
Diagon Alley.
The assistant handed Harry a piece of parchment, and at Harry's inquiring look, he said,
"When the letter is delivered, a green dot will appear on the parchment, and if the courier is
lost, there will be a red dot on the parchment. To retrieve the courier, all you have to do is tap
the red dot five times, and it will appear to you. Be sure to tap it with the same wand."
Harry simply nodded and took the parchment, tucking it inside his pocket. As he stood to
leave, he remembered that he still had to pay. After giving the assistant 7 Galleons, he
immediately left the PO.
As he walked down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, he thought to himself, 'I wonder when
I'll get a reply from the Guild.'
93, Diagon Alley; that was where Harry was currently heading. His business for today was
finished, so he could at least visit the shop he had secretly funded. He remembered the
address for the shop and as he headed there, he noticed that few of the shops had been
boarded up. It seemed that the announcement of Voldemort's return had scared many
customers as well as the shop owners away. He wondered how the twins' business was going
on in such dark times.
The bright colors of the shop momentarily blinded Harry. The shop was very different from the
neighboring shops, and it seemed that the twins wanted the point to be noted. The shop was
crowded and many customers were entering and leaving the shop every minute. As he looked
at the shop from afar, he saw a sign that made him want to break out in hysterics. A sign
above the shop read :
WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?
WHEN YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO
The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation!
He nearly laughed out loud but controlled himself before he burst out laughing. He thought to
himself as he looked at the sign again, 'I wonder what Tom would say when he sees that. . . '
As he entered the shop, Harry saw rows upon rows of products, some of which he knew about,
and some of which he didn't. There were children at every shelf with their parents standing
behind them, some of them looking at the joke items in stern disapproval while some joined
their kids in the fun.
Harry walked to a nearby shelf and looked at the item on display. The name read : Decoy
Detonator. He looked at the weird looking horn-like thing that sat on the shelf and thinking
that they might be useful, he picked a few of them and placed them in the basket provided. As
he continued to walk down the rows, he saw many items he had seen the twins demonstrate
in the Common Room last year. Ton-Tongue Toffee, Canary Creams, Nosebleed Naughts,
Skiving Snackboxes, and Puking Pastilles.
Harry picked up a box of each of them as he walked past. As he looked at some of the joke
stuff, he heard the unmistakable voices of the Weasley twins coming from somewhere ahead
of him. They were talking quietly and were mostly using hand signs to converse in the loud
shop.
Harry quickly turned away before either of them saw him and recognized him. He knew that if
either of them saw him now, he would be busted, even though he knew that the twins would
never tell on him; but one can never be surer. So he turned around and headed towards the
end of the row.
When he was sure that he had escaped the twins range, he took a note of his surrounding.
The shelf before him had many boxes labeled 'Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder'.
'Man, this is awesome!' thought Harry excitedly as he looked at the many boxes. 'Combined
with my Hand of Glory and Invisibility Cloak, this will certainly be very useful to me. Instant
darkness, invisibility, and I will be the only one who can see! Amazing!'
Swiftly, Harry collected as many boxes as he could without being too noticeable. Deciding that
he should get out of the place as quickly as possible, Harry hastened towards the counter.
As he took out the different items out of his basket, the cashier saw the amount of items and
raised an eyebrow. "Why so many items?"
Harry just smiled his best smile and said in an excited voice, "I'm going to play a big prank."
'On everyone,' he added mentally with a smirk.
The cashier too smiled at this and began to make a list of the purchases. The final amount
came to nearly 15 Galleons and 10 Sickles. Even though the price was quite a lot, Harry did
not mind as this stuff could be very helpful in his future adventures. So without further ado,
he removed the money pouch and paid the required amount. Quickly picking up the bag filled
with his purchases, he made his way out of the shop, all the while stuffing the bag into his
own expanded one.
As he walked, Harry noticed a familiar face entering the darkened gap between two shops that
served as the entrance to Knockturn Alley. A familiar and much hated face that belonged to
one Dolores Umbridge, the pink toad lady.
Harry frowned as he looked at the Under-Secretary to the Minister of Magic, the woman who
had been his main tormentor last year. As he looked at Umbridge's toad-like face, he
remembered all the things from last year. He remembered how she took delight in creating
trouble for him and his friends, how she smiled that sick little smile when she made him write
with the blood quill, how happy she looked at the idea of torturing him and killing him. And he
remembered his bigotry, and how she had caused problems for most of the sentient magical
creatures, labeling them as 'filthy half-breeds' as if they were not living creatures incapable of
feeling emotions.
His temper began to quickly rise as the thoughts of such injustice being done to his and others
festered in his mind. Knowing that losing his temper was not an option right now, Harry
quickly calmed himself and thought as to what he should do. Should he return to Privet Drive,
or should he follow Umbridge and see what she was up to?
He quickly made his mind up and headed towards Knockturn Alley, because this was not an
opportunity to be lost. He had his chance of revenge and he was not going to let it get out of
his hands. Pulling the hood of his cloak up, Harry entered the dark Knockturn Alley.
Dolores Umbridge was currently strutting through the dark alleyways of Knockturn Alley,
heading to the place where she had asked her. . . associate to come and meet her. Walking as
fast as her short, stocky legs could carry her, she reached her meeting point. Once reaching
there, Umbridge noticed that her. . . associate had already arrived and was leaning against
one of the nearby walls.
As she gazed upon the man, Dolores tried to hide the disgust she felt at the sight of the man.
He was what she hated the most, and wanted to clear from the face of the earth. He and his
kind were what she fought so vehemently against in the Ministry. Yet though she despised
him, Dolores knew that the man would be essential in her mission. At the thought of her
mission, Dolores smiled to herself. She would use the man to destroy his own kind. It was
poetic.
Fenrir Greyback looked at the short, fat woman before him and bit back a snarl. She was one
of his most hated enemies, and yet he was forced to work with her. But as soon as there was
no further need of her services, he would tear her apart and feast on her flesh and blood with
his brethren.
As the two enemies-turned-reluctant-allies faced each other, they never noticed the intruder
that had crept up on them, invisible to their sight.
"Hem, hem," Umbridge cleared her throat, "Greetings, Greyback."
"Umbridge," Greyback replied, nodding and trying to be polite, even though a short growl
escaped him.
"I have orders for you," said Umbridge in her shrill voice.
Greyback bit back a snarl and nodded. "Yes?"
"You are to attack a small village called Murex near Kent, which is where one of the agents of
Dumbledore's Order lives," said Umbridge with a scowl, them continued with a smile, "Attack
and kill everyone, from the brats to the old ones, leave none alive. Take the whole pack and
make it as bloody as possible. And since it is near full moon, you will have some advantage.
And make sure to kill the Order agent; that is the main reason behind the mission."
Greyback nodded before asking, "What house does this agent live in?"
Umbridge just smiled sweetly and said, "Some of My Lord's men will be marking the house.
There will be a snake painted on the door. Make sure to attack that house first, before
destroying others."
"Is this agent alone, or do they have a family?" asked Greyback, his eyes shining with
anticipation at the thought of killing.
"Alone," replied Umbridge, "And remember, make it as bloody as possible. The entire point is
to announce to the world the return of the Dark Lord."
» Next Chapter : A plot? Will it be successful, or will Harry save the day? How will he prevent
this attack and save the entire village? Stay tuned to find out.
» It's been a month since I last updated, and I've got to say, it feels good to be back. I hope
everyone enjoyed this chapter.
» I don't know if a real village of Murex exists or not, I just made it up for the story.
» I'd like to thank all the reviewers for their comments, and I hope that you continue to
review and give me ideas and advice.
Review this Chapter
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since : 03-14-10, id: 2288319, Profile Updated: 08-20-10
country : India
Author has written 2 stories for Harry Potter.
Hello, everyone!
I love reading, and writing is like a therapy that helps a lot in my

busy life.
I am 18 years old straight male. I live in India, the Incredible

India! One of the most interesting places in the world. The
country may be a developing one, but that doesn't mean that it is
not beautiful. The sights, the smells, the sounds. . . The place
makes all the five senses tingle like mad. Truly God's own land.
I like to read mainly Harry Potter fics and I have just started reading HP Crossovers. I
mostly prefer reading long fics, but I can also appreciate short fics if they are properly
done. I usually prefer Harry/pretty girl pairings. I mostly avoid slash fics as they are not
my cup of tea.
My first story "Harry Potter : Hunter" was an idea that came to me as I was playing with
my nephew. Though I have the rough outline of how I want my story to be, I have not
written it down entirely. Every time a new idea for the story pops into my head, I jot it
down on paper and then expand the idea while typing. I have found that this is a good
way of writing a story because while writing, new sentences automatically form in my
head and they are copied into the computer.
I have ideas for several stories but I will probably publish them after completing this one.
I also have ideas for omakes for my Hunter fic. As it is a crossover AU fic, I can take
Harry into several other universes where Harry can get into trouble and make the
situation Harry-istic, which means adventurous humor-filled situations in which Harry
will emerge as the winner regardless of the odds.
I like humorous fics filled with adventure and action, and that is what you will see in my
first piece of fanfiction.
Chapter Completion Meter
Harry Potter : Hunter - Chapter 10 - 75 %
Silly Omakes - Chapter 3 - 75 %
A reader once asked me why I end every chapter of my stories, any reviews or any PMs
with the phrase "May your sword stay sharp!" And many others too have questioned this
peculiar habit of mine too. So I've decided to write something about it here.
The simple - yet complex - reason for that is that I used to be quite a fan of the
Inheritance Cycle, and I was going through the swords and Dragons craze during that
time. And I was first introduced to fanfiction through Eragon, as the first fanfiction I ever
read was of the Inheritance Cycle.
After I got bored with it, I branched into Harry Potter universe. And I'll be honest when I
say that until I suddenly chanced upon it, I didn't even know about it.
Then there's the reason that Christopher Paolini - who is the author of the Inheritance
Cycle, - ended his messages at the end of his books with a slight variation of my own
sentence. His read "May your swords stay sharp!" Swords as in plural, and it was in the
Ancient Language. I just use the singular form in English, as a tribute to him, because it
was because of his books only that I was introduced to the wonderful world of fanfiction.
Otherwise I would have never read all the fascinating stories that I've read over the years,
and never learned about the different writing styles used by different authors. And my
repetoire of curses would be just limited to "Bloody Hell!" (Just kidding!)
Harry Potter : Hunter
In this story, I will probably be using some things from HBP and DH, like new spells and
such. I may also decide to use the Hallows and the Founders Artifacts if it suits the
purpose of the story.
This is for my readers who might find Harry a little heartless because of his lack of
reaction to being in Sirius' house. Harry has already made peace with the death of his
parents and Godfather. Also, he is slowly starting to get into the proper mindset required
for a Hunter. Hunters do not kill unnecessarily, but they are ruthless and unforgiving to
their enemies. They watch everything around with detatchment. Their first priority is
their survival. Harry wants to survive and he wants to win. He aches for freedom, and he
is willing to take it forcibly if he has to. keep in mind what I said about Hunters in the
first chapter. Hunters are not killers for hire. They only accept contracts that are good for
the future of the Guild. That is why they have not attacked Voldemort and his followers.
They work for money.
Hint : Remember the first para about Hunters. That will be Harry's Qualification Test.
That's all I have to say about it. There is still a long path we have to travel to reach there.
Voldemort's Horcruxes
In this story, there will be only three Horcruxes : the diary, the snake and
Voldemort's previous body.
Voldemort made the first Horcrux, by killing his father. (The diary)
He made another by killing Benjy Fenwick, instead of Bertha Jorkins. So the Horcrux
was created before the Halloween of 1981. (The Snake)
The third was created when Voldemort was trying for another Horcrux and he succedded,
but he fainted from the magical backlash because he had reached the limit of Horcrux
creation. (Which is three in this story.)
After waking up from the backlash, he did not know what the Horcrux was. He had
intended to make Salazar Slytherin's Locket into the final one, but in truth, the Horcrux
vessel was not the locket but his own body. But since there could be only one soul active
in a body, and the Horcrux was a part of Riddle's soul, the Horcrux became dormant and
Voldemort's remaining soul remained active. Hence he couldn't detect the presence of the
Horcrux that his own body had become.
In the Godric Hollow incident, Lily's sacrificial protection protected Harry and the
Killing Curse was reflected back. When it was reflected back and struck Voldemort, it
destroyed the body and along with it the Horcrux, which was the horrible wail that was
heard before he was vapourised. But the remaining spirit of Voldemort had survived,
though it was weak from the magical backlash from the destruction of the Horcrux and its
own body, so it fled.
About Quirrell's possession : Voldemort's soul inside Quirrell was not fully active and
it was not fully dormant, it was somewhere in between both the stages. The host was
completely willing to accomodate the mangled soul inside him, hence a connection was
formed between the parasitic soul and Quirrell's soul, and Voldemort continued leeching
the host's life force.
Ginny's case : At first Ginny willingly wrote to Tom and hence the connection was
formed. When she realised what was happening, she tried to throw the Diary away. But
the connection had already formed and hence it was slowly leeching Ginny's life force.
Until Harry destroyed it.
Both Ginny's case and Quirrell's case have some similarities.
In conclusion : Two of the three Horcruxes are now destroyed. Tom cannot create more
as he has reached the limit. Now only the snake is alive.
But that doesn't mean that it will be easier to defeat Voldemort.
Pairing Poll Result
(Closed on 24th May, 2010)
Daphne Greengrass – 62
Fleur Delacour – 47
Nymphadora Tonks – 41
Narcissa Malfoy – 21
Hermione Granger – 19
Susan Bones – 15
Padma Patil – 14
Tracey Davis – 12
Parvati Patil – 5
Other Canon Girl – 4
Hestia Jones – 2
Total votes – 125
I heard many reviewers saying that it was foolish of Harry to sell the bag. But please note
that Harry is a practical person; he knew that the spell on the bag would fail sooner or
later, and it would not be of much use after that, even if it was a Black Family Heirloom
and a costly item. Moreover, if any item is inside the bag when the spells fail, the objects
would not be recoverable, so Harry chose the best path and gave it away, getting rid of it
and getting a deal in exchange for it.
What I’d like to urge the readers to think is what Harry made the deal about. (A cauldron
full of Wolfsbane Potion before full moon.)
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After the DoM Mayhem, Harry decides that he is tired of the Dursleys and figures that he
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Nothing but a bunch of silly and stupid little omakes. Some are funny some are not. Read
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jbern
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Rated: M - English - Romance - Ron W. & Padma P. - Reviews: 102 - Published: 05-21-
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Disclaimer – It's fanfiction.
Acknowledgements – Two people helped me with this story, Perspicacity and

SomeGuyFawkes. There's an edited version on the way courtesy of Aaran St. Vines, but I
wanted to get it up this evening.
Number Games
"With all the hype around today's championship match between the heavily favored Falmouth
Falcons and the surprising Chudley Cannons swirling, the biggest story has to be can the
aging backup keeper, Ron Weasley, hold it together for what might be the final game in his
career? That's the question on the minds of everyone in the stadium and those watching
across the globe."
I block out the sound of the wireless and keep dressing. Most of the team is already out on the
pitch warming up while I spent the last few minutes being lathered in salves. I smell like
cauldron scrapings. Maybe if the wind is blowing the right way, the stink will keep the chasers
from getting too close.
The man in the mirror looks a tad too old for my tastes. The brilliant head of red hair still
remains, but I've been dying it for years. My agent tells me that "grey and distinguished"
might work when I retire, but I (and more importantly she) can't afford to lose another
sponsor.
She also tells me to quit shagging girls half my age. According to her, it's bad for my image.
Actually, what's bad for my image is hooking up with some saggy-breasted, unhappy witch or
Muggle and seeing what she looks like in the morning when her charms or makeup have worn
off. Why mess around with that when there's a perky little model with a whole lot less mileage
just as willing to hop in the sack with me?
I really should fire her and get a different agent, but since Alicia is married to my brother, that
would probably cost me even more on those rare occasions I show up to Mum's for dinner with
the family. It's not worth the hassle and I'd lose the Wheeze's endorsement to boot.
Adjusting my pads with a flick of my wand, I get them nice and snug and verify the strength
of the charms on them. Popping the seal on the potion the team physician left for me, I suck
the sludge down in one gulp. It tastes bloody awful, but it's better than getting a case of back
spasms while stretching to block a quaffle on the high side of ring three.
"Now, with an insight into what Weasley must be thinking, let's bring in our own Hall of Fame
keeper and two time Guthrie trophy winner, Oliver Wood."
"Great," I mutter. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to listen to that prick, today. Who did the
lightening charm on his fat arse so he could get up into the broadcast booth? The only way he
could stop a quaffle these days is if they wedged his body into one hoop and bribed the other
team's chasers to throw at him."
"Weasley came into the league just a few years after me and was the my backup keeper on
both our English National Teams that won the World Cup, but that was almost twenty years
ago and I think the game has passed him by. He was a midseason signee for desperate
Chudley after their starting keeper got caught up in an off the field scandal and played
sparingly during the season. With backup Devlin Hackett going down with a shattered pelvis in
last weeks semi-finals against Holyhead, Weasley was pressed into service and did just
enough to stop the Harpies' rally before Danica Turpin came away with the golden snitch and
put an end to idea of a Falmouth-Holyhead rematch."
"What does Weasley need to do today, Oliver, for Chudley to have any hope of winning?"
"Outside of finding the fountain of youth? I can't rightly say, Calvin. Through his career,
Weasley has always relied on his long arms and athleticism to compensate for his flawed
mechanics, difficulties recognizing the opposing team's formation, and poor lateral motion on
a broom."
"You forgot to mention the time you caught me in bed with your first wife, Wood. She never
complained about my mechanics or my lateral motion you sanctimonious piece of ..."
"You sound almost as bitter as Wood does, mate," a familiar voice behind me interrupts.
I turn and face the one and only, Harry Potter. He got out of the game on his own terms ten
years ago, lucky git. "Oi, who let the rabble in?"
He smiles and says, "As much as I hate playing the celebrity card, occasionally it comes in
handy. Figured I'd stop by and wish you good luck." He crinkles his nostrils. "Did someone
forget to vanish the bins?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'd rather smell like shit during the game than feel like it afterwards. How's Ginny
and the kids?"
"Good. They're up in the sky box with the rest of the clan. Hermione's even here."
I am somewhat surprised my ex is here. The kids probably made her come. "Did they take her
wand at the gate? Otherwise, I'll have to worry about getting my bits hexed off in addition to
Falmouth's beaters."
"She promised to behave and Todd's with her too. Although they're probably rooting for Vic."
Harry somehow found a way to stay friends with us both. It was probably good training for his
position as ICW Ambassador at Large to the Muggles.
Her second husband is a decent chap. According to the kids, they hardly ever row like we did.
"True, our last kid is out of Hogwarts. She's out of reasons to drag me back into court and
take more money." Our friendship lasted seven years, our marriage six, the divorce has lasted
longer than both combined. The bitter feelings would outdue all three.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Get your no good, lying, cheating arse out of here!" My wife's one arm held our youngest.
The other held a thick stack of moving pictures.
"Come on Hermione, it's not what it looks like?" Actually it was exactly what it looked like, but
that was the first thing that came to mind.
"The paparazzi offered me the first chance to buy them. You want to know why I did it?
Because Alicia's renegotiating your contract and she and Charlie need the money she'll make
as your agent. I'm tired of turning a blind eye while you're traveling." She wagged the pictures
at me like some Ministry proclamation. "I've already spoken to my lawyer. You don't have a
leg to stand on, but I just want to know one thing, Ron – why? That's all, tell me why you
couldn't keep your dick in your trousers?"
I was busted. I could've claimed polyjuice or even that the groupie slipped me a love potion,
but I didn't. Looking back, maybe I'd been wanting to get caught so I could finally be free and
clear of all this. So, I smiled at her and shrugged. "You've always had the answers to
everything, Hermione. You figure it out."
She dropped the pictures and went for her wand. I apparated out of there before it cleared her
holster.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Still with me, Ron? You know you've got a game in a few minutes."
I shake my head and say, "Yeah Harry, I was just thinking."
"Little late in life to start that now," he quips.
"Har, har good thing you never tried standup comedy, brother. I'm just glad you did right by
Ginny."
"You were a perfect example of what not to do."
"Well, as long as someone learned from my mistakes, I guess it's all good."
There was that period, just after the divorce where Harry avoided me. It was a long year, but
when we both ended up on the English National Team, we had a few pints and ironed things
out. It wasn't like I was cheating on him and with the divorce finalized, I wasn't even cheating
on Hermione anymore either. Back in those days, I'd been a kid in a candy store. Everything
was in my grasp and tasted so sweet.
Harry picks up my Thresher and inspects it, "This makes that old Firebolt Sirius bought me
look like something you'd charm to sweep the hallway."
"What ever happened to that broom?"
"I donated it. It's part of a traveling Quidditch museum moving from city to city. With the live
feed to the Muggles, there'll likely be almost a quarter of a billion people watching you today …
no pressure, eh?"
Shrugging, I answer, "Having a one track mind has its advantages. I only have to keep an eye
on one quaffle and two bludgers. Everyone else can bugger off until someone gets the snitch."
Harry laughs, he's earned his happiness and I'm glad for him.
"C'mon, I'll walk you out through the tunnel. It'll be like old times."
"Nah, everybody'd just be cheering for you, Harry. Hell, Danica would pee her pants if she
knew you were in our locker room right now. Actually, screw it. Let's hear 'em scream their
lungs out."
In the midst of one of our biggest rows, Hermione had said that I'd "spent my life trying and
failing to get out of Harry's shadow." She was always good at coming up with stinging one-
liners. Other than the National teams, we'd never played for the same club and were never
really in direct competition against each other. He was the first to congratulate me the year I'd
won the Guthrie trophy for best Keeper in the league.
After all this time, I've reached the conclusion that my brother-in-law cast a pretty mean
shadow and if history only mentions me as his sidekick at Hogwarts and a guy who played
Keeper in the pros for twenty-seven seasons, that's probably more fame than most get.
I pull the strap on my helmet tight. "How do I look?"
"Like a winner," he says. "Go on out there and show them that you've still got it."
Thumping him on the back, we start down the long corridor to the field. "Nah mate, I took
some potions. That cleared 'it' up rather nicely."
He starts to laugh and is in the middle of telling me that I might be able to fall back on stand
up comedy when I hang up the pads, but freezes in mid-sentence. His wand is out in a flash
and he trains it at a section of the wall. Damn those reflexes! He's definitely still got "it."
The section moves and I see the shimmer of a disillusionment charm disappearing under
Harry's magic. It's a young boy with blond hair, too young to have cast the spell. "Easy,
mister. I was just trying to get an autograph."
He holds out a team photo, taken before I was added to the roster, and a perma-quill. Harry
relaxes and says, "Young man, you need to think a little more before you do things. You're
lucky I didn't hex you."
"Mister Weasley, would you please sign it for me?"
I grab the quill and drew a crude stick figure at the end of a row and sign my name above it.
"So, you're a Cannons fan."
"All my life," the boy replies and hesitates for a second. "What smells?"
"Reminds me of someone I used to know," Harry says nudging me and trying to hold back his
laughter. He's talking about me naturally, but the boy reminds me of someone else.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
With my banged up shoulder, I couldn't go out and practice, but 'Licia and the National Team's
PR department set up this meet and greet autograph signing with a few of us at the new
quidditch shop in Diagon Alley. The others would portkey out before practice started, but I was
stuck here all day. My sister-in-law seemed to think it would keep me out of trouble.
Somehow, I always managed to find a new way to surprise her.
"My mum was in Gryffindor with you," said a dark-skinned boy, close to the age of taking his
first trip on the Express. I had barely glanced at him after scrawling my name on a picture and
pushing it across the table.
I look up at the woman next to the young boy. She's lean, attractive with the same darkish
skin, a thick black mane of hair plaited down her back, and penetrating blue eyes.
"Parvati, it's good to see you again. It's been ages."
She opened her mouth to say something, but the boy cut her off, "That's Auntie Padma!
Mum's back in India."
"Nishita. Don't be rude to Mr. Weasley." Padma scolded the boy.
"But mum says he went to a dance with you and acted like a complete 'tard." I wasn't up on
the latest juvenile slang, but that didn't sound very flattering.
Despite Padma's complexion, I saw a blush enhanced by her bulging eyes. She snatched up
the autographed photo and pretty much yanked the kid away from the table.
Signing two more real fast, I glanced over at the public relations git "handling" all this. "I need
to take a quick break. How about ten minutes?"
Outside the store, I spotted the pair. Padma had the poor kid backed up against the wall and
was reading him the riot act. "I have never been so embarrassed in my life, Nishita. You just
wait until your mother and father hears about this!"
"Go easy on him Padma. He's just telling the truth, I have a history of being … what was it
again? A 'tard?"
"Mum said you were a whole bunch of other things too!"
"Nishita!"
"Kids, they say the darndest things," I brushed it off. "Does your mum ever say anything
about going to that dance with Harry Potter?"
The boy grins really big and opened his mouth, but Padma interrupted, "Not another word,
young man. Do you understand?"
The grin turned into a frown and Padma scowled at me, but I saw a hint of mirth at the
corners of her lips.
"What?" I asked, holding my hands up defensively. "I figured Harry would get a good laugh
out of it. Anyway, I needed to get out of there and stretch my legs for a few minutes. I'm
headed over to the ice cream shop. If you want to tag along, I'll treat."
Nishita readily agreed, his aunt was a tad reluctant. The boy peppered me with questions non-
stop. I handed him a couple of galleons and sent him off to order for us all.
"You're good with kids," Padma said drumming her finger on the tabletop.
"Similar maturity levels, I guess," I paused and let her laugh at me. "Seriously, big family, all
kinds of nieces and nephews, plus three of my own whenever Hermione lets me see them."
"My sister said you and Hermione had a messy breakup. What happened?"
"We rushed into it. She got cold and distant and if you want to know what direction I took,
pick up a tabloid. How about you?"
"I've been teaching Arithmancy in France for the last three years, but the position just opened
up at Hogwarts and I'm on the shortlist. What do you think about The Reveal?"
Twenty months before that conversation, some blokes in South America got into a magical
dust up the likes of which usually involved someone named Harry Potter, but this time it was
caught on live television and went onto the Muggle Internet. After attempts to cover it up
failed and the Pan American ministry was exposed, the ICW reluctantly repealed the Statues
of Secrecy and the cat was out of the proverbial bag.
Frowning, I said, "It ended up killing my dad."
"I'm so sorry," she said reaching across and grasping my hand. Her touch was gentle, warm,
and reassuring.
"S'okay, dad had been like a kid in a candy shop and immediately investigated every aspect of
the Muggle world. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that Muggle trains worked differently than
the Hogwarts Express and he made contact with what they call The Third Rail. I still miss him.
Ironic, the man survived Voldemort's reign of terror twice and he gets done in by his own
curiosity."
"I shouldn't have brought it up," she said hastily and with considerable sincerity.
"Don't worry. It was an accident. Other than that, it just means more fans watching the game.
I don't mind so much." Quidditch had helped bridge the gap between the two worlds. People
all over the planet took to it every bit as much as Dean Thomas' beloved football. It helped
that we were in a World Cup cycle. Soon, magical devices sent signals to the muggle satellites
and there were several twenty-four hour a day quidditch channels and brooms that could be
used by muggles allowed them to play in the "mixed" leagues, but those brooms are slower
than the stuff I used to fly at Hogwarts.
"France has had a few issues, but it hasn't been as bad as some of the other countries. Still,
I'm looking forward to being back in England. Parvati's in India and has her sights set on
making it in Bollywood. If she does, she said I can be her stand in." Padma swirled one finger
in the air to signify her lack of enthusiasm at that prospect.
"Mum's going to be more popular than Keira Knightley!" Nishita proclaimed coming back to our
table with a tray and the desserts.
"I bet she already is," I said not having the foggiest idea who he was talking about.
We chatted for much longer than we should have, and I knew 'Licia would be furious, but it
had been fun talking with someone from the old days who didn't immediately jump onto
Hermione's side of things. Eventually, she took her nephew back into the alley to complete his
shopping.
I'd been so caught up in the conversation that I'd forgotten to get her floo address.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"There you go lad," I said handing the picture back to the autograph seeker. "Make sure you
yell really loud every time our chasers score, okay?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Weasley!" He runs off while I cringe.
"I feel old all of the sudden."
"At least he didn't mention that you're going to be a grandfather any day now. Your daughter
is getting really close."
"You're not really helping, Harry."
"Nonsense Ron, every bloke over forty out there is going to be pulling for you on some level.
Most of them just dream of pushing back the sun and here you are doing it."
"You sound like you're channeling Dumbledore," I reply, taking my own semi-cheap shot.
"Now, was that really called for?" He says as we step out of the tunnel. The crowd goes batshit
insane when they see Harry. He's all smiles and waves to the crowd before stepping back and
gesturing to me, letting me bask in the applause.
"I suppose not," I concede. "Couldn't ask for a better intro. Thanks mate."
"No problem, Ron," he says looking over his shoulder and heading toward the staircase. "And
you've got something on your nose."
I wipe my hand across my face and find nothing. Thinking about it for a few seconds, I get the
joke. Just more proof that I am getting old.
Slinging one leg over the Thresher, I take to the sky and accelerate for one quick lap around
the length of the pitch and offer a few quick waves to the fans, some of them booing me. A
gorgeous blonde with reddish highlights in a Falmouth uniform falls in next to me.
"I don't plan on going easy on you, Uncle." Victoire Weasley-Lupin says with a grin. Her
nickname is "Sky Angel." She's the leading scorer in the league and the regular season MVP.
"Way I see it, your charms don't faze me, ickle Vic. I might be the toughest ring minder
you've faced all year."
She definitely doesn't like being called that or the implication that she scores more because of
her heritage. "I'm getting close to thirty, old-timer. There isn't a thing on me that is 'ickle'
anymore. Shouldn't you be in the stands with the rest of the geriatric set? Ugh, let me get
upwind. How many days does it take to get rid of the smell?"
I wondered if the microphones were picking up our "trash talk." "Vic, that's the smell of
victory. Besides, why be up there when I can still show you a thing or two about quidditch?"
Making the final turn, I start to peel off for my rings, as she says, "I'm going to enjoy picking
you to pieces, Uncle Ron."
"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy slamming the door on you." If it had been anyone else, I
wouldn't have even bothered with the banter, but she's a Weasley by blood. Family honor
demands we talk shit to each other at every opportunity.
Limbering up, I zip back and forth between the hoops doing a series of rolls and stretches to
shake off a sudden case of the butterflies. I glance overhead at the BBCQ blimp doing the
Muggle recording. The thousands in the stand hardly compare to the millions on the other end
of those cameras.
As the horn sounds to end the warm up period, we line up in our starting positions as they
bring out some songbird to sing God Save the Queen backed by an orchestra. Afterwards, the
public address picks up. "Our celebrity starters for today's championship match between the
Chudley Cannons and the Falmouth Falcons in none other than Hogwarts' Headmistress
Minerva McGonagall!"
The stately old lioness floats on a broom with the box containing the snitch, quaffle, and
bludgers behind her to a thunderous applause. I hadn't seen her in ages and the kids said that
she's calling it quits after all these years. I tip my head in respect to her.
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Sixteen long years ago, the great darkness that threatened the land was driven back by the
sacrifice of many and the heroics of many more," McGonagall's quavering voice rose from the
central dais. "Today we gather in remembrance and to reaffirm that it shall never happen
again."
Hermione was staring daggers through me. I didn't envy Harry being stuck in the middle of
us. Our kids were out in the audience probably collecting wagers on whether we'd have a row
onstage.
"I'm surprised to see you here tonight, Ronald. I'd recommend care in selecting your bedmate
this evening; you'll want to make certain she's of age."
I showed up for the first few ceremonies, mostly because the witch (with a b) harassing me
had decided that "we must attend." This was the first one I'd attended since the divorce. It
was another one of 'Licia's "bright" ideas, but with England's victory in the World Cup, and the
fact that Harry and I were both on the team, it was good for my level of exposure and might
put additional pressure on The Tornados to sign me to a contract extension.
"After all these years, I think I finally figured it out," I whispered back. "I could never compete
with the stick up your arse." The marriage wasn't a complete loss. I had three wonderful
sprogs and I'd learned a thing or two about vicious one-liners from a soul sucker that would
put a dementor to shame. Sure it was costing me a cubic ton of galleons in child support, but
to every cloud there was a little silver lining.
Harry's loud cough and throat clearing sounded suspiciously like he was trying to stifle a
laugh, but he put his foot down a second later. "Both of you behave," he said barely moving
his lips. "This isn't about you. Put your differences aside for one night or, so help me, I'll
paralyze you both and dump you in the Chamber of Secrets."
I didn't know what was going through Hermione's head, but I pretty much figured he'd do it.
So, I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the speeches, applauded loudly when Harry gave his
speech, gave the ex a token clap or two, and got up and delivered the speech Alicia had
written for me word for word under the threat of having to find a new agent. I had to give
'Licia her due; it was a pretty nice speech that encouraged kids to learn from their past and
focus on their future.
After the ceremony, there was the hustle and bustle of people milling about and with
Hermione never more than ten feet away from my best mate and circling him like an angry
harpy, I wandered away, signing a few autographs here and there and trying to make varying
degrees of small talk. I was chatting with Neville and Hannah Longbottom when her voice
caught me.
"If it isn't my favorite 'tard," Padma said stepping up next to me. She looked good. Damn
good. Truth be told, the chance to encounter her was the reason I'd went along with Alicia's
idea. I had one of the team's "gophers" verify that Padma got the job and sent an expensive
fruit basket and my congratulations.
"Good to see you. How goes the number crunching?" I said smiling. Neville and Hannah
begged off a few seconds later and I was left there by the entrance to the Great Hall with Ms.
Patil.
"Everything's still divisible despite my best efforts. Congratulations to you on winning the
World Cup."
"Well, Wood did most of the work. I only played in a few of the matches."
"I think you should have been the starter. You did win the Guthrie trophy last season."
Hollowly laughing, I replied, "When it comes to National Teams, there's politics involved … lots
of politics."
"Sounds almost as bad as here," she replied and leaned close enough to whisper. "No wonder
Snape was such a flaming pool of sphincter pus."
I damn near blew my drink out of my nostrils when she said that. "Mercy, woman! What are
you trying to do, choke me?" People say I'm a bit dense and slow on the uptake, but I learned
to never underestimate the abilities of an Arithmancer when it comes to timing a joke.
"You were saying something about the politics of the quidditch league," she offered with an
innocent expression on her face.
"Yeah, if Ollie had his way, I wouldn't have even been on the squad."
"Really? They say he's starting to lose his edge and even to my less-than-trained eyes, you're
at the peak of your game."
"Let's just say we have some personal issues. Fortunately for me, Harry called him out on it
and said if they weren't going to put the best team on the pitch, they could find another
starting seeker. Wait just a second! Did you just say you've seen me play?"
Padma smiled again and looked back at the crowd in the Great Hall. "It's too crowded in here.
Let's take a walk."
I took her arm and we started wandering the halls of that ancient castle. I shared some stories
that didn't quite make it into the memoirs and she had a few of her own that ran counter to
the notion that all the Ravenclaws did was stuff their heads into books for seven straight
years. She even owned up to being one of the people in the stands jeering me with that
"Weasley is the King" garbage the Slytherins concocted.
It was a good thing I'd learned to tune that stuff out. On the pro level, the fans were
downright vindictive.
"Fascinating stuff, your Arithmancy. I had a coach when I first came into the league who
would run her lineup by an Arithmancer to see if any of the numbers were particularly lucky or
unlucky that date."
"The interesting part about the subject is that math can be used to explain everything, from
the weight distribution on this wall to the trajectory of a quaffle you're trying to stop. Math is
the answer to everything, but only if we know what question to ask. What?"
"No wonder you're a good teacher. You know how to explain the basics in one paragraph."
She rolled her eyes and started to look away, but I saw an opening and took it. I stepped in
close and kissed her. Padma flinched in surprise, but relaxed quickly. After a few seconds I
backed off and took a breath. "Did I get the trajectory right?"
"Close," she said panting a little herself, "but sometimes you'll run into rounding errors and it's
best to repeat your calculation a few times to be absolutely certain. Being able to reach the
same conclusion every time is vital."
Suddenly, I liked math more than I ever had during my entire life.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"Lupin intercepts the quaffle and accelerates to the mid line. Crossing pass near side to Avery
Ducet. Ducet dodges a bludger and takes a shot from the perimeter – low side ring one. Save
by Weasley. Harrison circles back and Weasley sends the outlet pass to him. Chudley brings
the quaffle back up along the far side of the pitch. Both seekers are patrolling high on the
lookout for the snitch."
"Oliver, what did you think of Ducet's shot?"
"It's was a ranging shot, Calvin. The Falmouth chaser line wants to see for themselves how
fast Weasley can move from the center ring all the way to the edge of ring one and Ducet has
one of the strongest releases in the league. That way, they'll know how to time his
movements and compensate their throws. It's the hallmark of an expert chasing line and
when they've gotten the measure on Weasley, it's going to be a long day for Chudley."
"What no compliments about my lateral motion? I thought I got over there pretty fast." I
answer "fat bastard's" commentary and keep an eye on the other end. Come on Doug, put the
biscuit in the bucket!
"Wolfowitz scores for Chudley! Cannons up ten zip. Anika Rogers looks a little uncomfortable
in the rings over on Falmouth. Much was made over her collapse last year against Holyhead.
What do you think Oliver?"
"She's been in the league six years and is as steady as they come. Sometimes, letting one get
by early will get the adrenaline flowing fast and actually work in her favor. I wouldn't read too
much into it."
Yeah, I stop the first shot and Ollie says I'm doomed. Rogers gets burnt on Doug's
misdirection and everything's peachy … she'll bounce back. Have a glass of shut the fuck up
on me.
Mashburn from Falmouth has the quaffle now. He's a good chaser, but takes only fifteen
percent of the shots, preferring to set up Ducet or Vic for their runs. He's more of a
"powerballer," not quite in Ducet's league. Vic's the finesse shot, with superior misdirection
skills.
"Mashburn draws the attention from the beaters. Drop pass to Sky Angel. She feints left and
throws under Weasley trying to get ring two. Kick save by the Keeper. Quaffle is up for
grabs…"
Move! Damn it! Move! I cut under ring three and pull up in front of it, roll right and strecth.
"Lupin gets her own rebound and tries the wraparound … denied! Weasley gets there in time."
I see the look of disappointment on my niece as I toss the quaffle to Wolfowitz and move back
in front of the rings. Not this time, Vic.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Your daughter's hell on a broomstick. She'll be a starter soon enough. I'm not saying it just
because we're brothers. The crying shame of it is that she'll be gone long before Tutshill's turn
to draft comes." I take a glass of water and wipe the sweat from my brow with a rag. I'd been
letting Victoire toss quaffles at me for the better part of thirty minutes and more had gotten
through than I wanted to admit.
Bill beams and says, "I appreciate you doing this, Ron. You can take a breather and come in
and enjoy the party."
Ever since Dad died, Bill had assumed the mantle of Patriarch and done a pretty decent job of
it.
"Victoire is just going to throw a quaffle at me. Who knows what I'm in for when I step
through that door?"
"Well, at the very least, you should go in there and support your new girlfriend."
"How's Mum handling it?"
"She's upset that Hermione 'suddenly canceled' when she got word that you were bringing
Padma here, but I talked to your new flame for a few minutes and she's a respectable lady
and not your usual sort. Makes me wonder if you got hit in the head one too many times and
finally got some common sense."
I ignored Bill's barb and remove my pads. "Yeah, I figured I'd try something different. I think
the ex just wanted to see me bring some bimbette she can make fun of behind her back and
to her face, but Padma is pretty accomplished in her field."
"So this is serious?"
"I don't know. We're taking it slow. I went out to Hogsmeade every other Sunday, when I
didn't have the kids, and saw her. When it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend for the students,
she'd come out and catch a match. Now that it's summer and she's off, we'll see if she can put
up with me on a full time basis. I get the sprogs for two weeks and we're taking them to India
where they can see Padma's sister shooting a movie. I might even be able to get them in as
extras if Parvati has any pull with the director."
"So I'd heard. Several times from Hermione in fact."
"I didn't bat an eye when she took them down to Australia to visit her parents or to Germany
for that ministry function, or when they went to Greece. She was the one that worked so hard
to get out of country travel in the divorce decree. Now, she's just being a wench because I
want to take my kids somewhere."
Bill laughed, "Normally, I'd mock you at this point, but it sounds like you're doing okay."
We walked inside and I saw Padma sitting next to Alicia, Charlie, and Fleur.
"Whatever they're saying about me, it's probably a lie," I said sitting down next to Padma.
"Fleur was saying you made a complete arse out of yourself three years ago."
"Okay, that wasn't a lie, but in my defense I was drunk. How is Gabrielle by the way?"
My sister-in-law rolled her eyes. So what if my French was nonexistent? Gabby's English
wasn't all that great either. I might have misinterpreted her response to "let's go skinny
dipping in the pond" and vanished her clothes, but she was the one that started tossing
around fireballs and burnt down half the woods behind the Burrow. She wasn't exactly sober
either.
Gabby hadn't been to a Weasley family event since and on a side note, it probably explained
why Fleur referred to me as her "least favorite" among Bill's brothers.
"How's the Dragon Handling going, Charlie?"
Charlie scratched his head. "It's kind of a mess. Now that the Muggles are in the mix, they
seem to want to pass all kinds of laws and restrictions on the preserves. To be honest, I'm
thinking of getting out of the business. It seems like the thrill is gone, but maybe after a few
weeks of holiday, I'll feel more enthused about it."
"Do what you need to do, bro."
"Actually," Alicia said interrupting. "It means I'm going to be taking on a few more clients and
expand my roster, hopefully starting with that chaser outside. The Muggle agencies that
handle the footballers are creeping in on our business. One of them tried smooth talking me
into joining their firm before resorting to some threats."
"How'd that work out?"
"He found out what it was like to squeal like a pig for a few hours and then I changed him
back and showed him the door, effing bastard."
We all got a good laugh out of that. I turned to my date and asked, "How's everyone treating
you?"
"Good," she answered. "Your family is as rowdy as you said it would be."
"Well that's us. Our motto is we don't take shit from no one, except for a third cousin. He's in
the fertilizer business. He takes shit from everyone."
Padma laughed at my feeble joke as Fleur said, "Padma was just starting to tell us why you
two are arithmetically compatible."
"From my readings, Ron is a solid five, but he matches up well to my four. For instance his
birthday is March first or three plus one. His jersey is number four. Also,…"
I interrupted, "We had our first date in our fourth year."
"I really hadn't planned on mentioning that," Padma said.
Just then, Percy wandered into the room his red hair replaced with chicken feathers. He looked
at me and said, "Ron, your children. I highly recommend you do something about their
behavior. I believe they're acting out because their mother isn't here."
"'Scuse me," I said choking back a laugh. "I've got to go deal with the rugrats." I stood and
shouted, "Oi! What are you hellions up to now?"
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Harrison beats Rogers on the corner and scores. Chudley on top fifty to nothing!"
"You know what that means, Calvin?"
"I sure do Hobbes! It's lollipop time."
I cast an eye skyward where Danica has momentarily abandoned her search for the snitch.
She zips up to the center of the pitch and acts like a conductor as all the Chudley fans pull out
engorged orange and yellow lollipops and begin singing. Sports celebrations are usually pretty
inane things, but this one dated back to when Chudley really stunk up the pitch, back before I
was even born. They couldn't score more than four goals in any match for like a thirty game
stretch. Some plonker on the wireless sports casts said he'd do something stupid when they
finally scored a fifth goal. It took like ten more games, but when they did it, he held up these
giant suckers and started singing and dancing to the "Lollipop Guild" song from The Wizard of
Oz. Somehow, it stuck.
Other teams have their celebrations, but Chudley's "fifth goal" is among the barmiest.
Sadly, I didn't have time to join in. Vic and her chaser buddies don't care for the sounds of our
fans.
"Ducet's racing up the far side, feeds Mashburn near the centerline. Drives to the center.
Winds up for the shot … no back to Ducet. Ducet in the clear. No! Spun like a top by a bludger
hitting the back of his broom. Great defensive work by Audrey Benson of Chudley. Errant shot
scooped up by Wolfowitz. Ducet's broom is damaged and he's making best speed to the bench
for a replacement. If the Cannons hurry they'll have a man advantage for the next minute and
a chance to pad their lead."
I point to Benson as she passes and give her the thumbs up. She shouts back, "You've kept
the door shut for thirty minutes already. It's high time I got off my arse and gave you some
help."
Thirty minutes? Has it been that long already?
"Chudley scores again. Falmouth calls their first timeout to allow Ducet to complete his
equipment change and to give Rogers a chance to regain her composure.
The coach flies up to our huddle. The three chasers are in close facing me and the beaters
have their backs to us with bats ready, since the bludgers don't really care if the quaffle's in
play or not.
"Damn Weasley, what's that smell? Didn't I tell you not to use that homebrewed garbage?
Bollocks, it doesn't matter what you smell like if you're keeping a shutout!"
"Coach," I say, "Send a few bludgers downfield at Rogers. She's not having a good game and
it'll rattle her cage."
"Don't need to," Liam Atkins says. "She's skittish enough already. Benson, you and Gariss
keep harassing the chasers. Turpin, stay on their seeker and jostle her. Chasers, keep mixing
it up against Rogers. Get her second guessing herself and keep up the pressure. Be quick back
on defense, too. Their line is used to scoring often, but they're prone to turnovers. If we can
keep them frustrated, we just might pull this out. Weasley … fifty-four minutes."
"Huh?"
"That's the longest anyone has ever held this line scoreless. Can you get me to fifty-five?"
"Can do, Skipper."
"Keep an eye out for the bludgers too, Weasley. Kargan over there is probably telling his team
to try and rough you up. Watch out for a turkey shoot."
I nod and coach breaks the huddle, flying back to the sidelines. A "turkey shoot" is a long
slow, quaffle heave by a chaser while a beater whacks a bludger into the general vicinity of
where the Keeper has to be to stop it. It's a timing play that's difficult to execute, but as my
reconstructed shoulder knew that all too well, it can change the course of a game.
I drift back to my starting position as the horn sounds and the quaffle goes back into play.
Fifty-four minutes? Five and four, what are the odds?
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"How was the Los Angeles conference?" I asked. I'd sold off my flat in London and gotten a
rental in Hogsmeade. It wasn't really big enough for the kids, but they were getting older and
more often than not, one of the three had "things" to do that didn't involve coming over to see
their absentee pop, so I rarely had all of them together. If positions were reversed, I'm sure
Hermione would be throwing a fit, but supposedly she'd mellowed a little with that new
husband of hers.
Good luck with that, Todd, you unlucky stiff.
"It was great!" Padma said, excitedly. "I got an offer to apprentice under Master Ri in Hong
Kong!"
"Hong Kong?" I said and gulped. "That's on the other side of the world."
"I know, but we're used to being separated for weeks at a time, when you're on tour or I'm
teaching. Nothing will change. I promise. Did you know that Master Ri only accepts one
student at a time? It's one of the most prized apprenticeships in the whole world."
"Aren't you happy at Hogwarts?" There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I didn't
care for. We'd been dating for three years and I was comfortable.
"I love teaching, but I want to get my mastery. The premier journals won't touch someone
that doesn't have one. My papers would still get published, but I'll be cited more in other
peoples work. Master Ri said himself that my work is good, but I won't be considered in the
upper echelon without a Mastery. Please Ron. You've been a star all of your adult life. I
knowArithmancy will never have the following that Quidditch does, but this is my chance to be
in the 'big leagues.' I just want my chance to shine. Please?"
"I don't know. That's a pretty big distance," I said not really buying into the idea.
"You could come too. You've got one year left on your contract here. They have quidditch
leagues in Asia. Why can't you sign with someone over there?"
I scrunched my nose at the suggestion and said, "The Asian leagues stink. Why would I want
to play there? And I think you're forgetting how hard it's going to be to get back here and see
my kids."
"Ron, meet me in the middle on this. This is the first time I've asked you to make a sacrifice
for me."
It wasn't a "Hermione sized" row, but it was the biggest one we'd had. Eventually, we calmed
down and said that we'd make it work somehow. We talked it over, she swore it would work
out, and I cared enough about her to let her chase her dream. No voices were raised, no
tantrums were thrown. In fact, we went out and had an expensive dinner to celebrate.
If I had to recap the greatest mistakes Ron Weasley ever made, running off all jealous of
Harry and Hermione when we were looking for the Horcruxes would still be number one.
Not trying harder to stop Padma from going to Hong Kong was a close second.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Sixty-Three minutes into the match and the Falcons can't unravel the mystery that is Ron
Weasley. He's been everywhere he's needed to be today, Hobbes and already stopped thirty
shots on goal."
"Right you are, Calvin. He's like a bear out there with a pack of wild dogs circling him.
Weasley's playing the game of his career out there. His opponent isn't just the Falcon chaser
line, but Father Time as well."
"But you can't forget about the superb defense being played by the Cannon beaters either,
they've certainly helped their keeper out in the last fifteen minutes on several occasions. Still,
it's impressive what Weasley's doing out there. He's got the whole team pulling for him."
Maybe my ears are messed up. Woods just gave an inch. That alone is miraculous.
"Oliver's right. It seems like all the Cannons have elevated their play, perhaps inspired by
Weasley's example. They're up one thirty to nil and if this trend continues, even a snitch catch
by Kate Ardell isn't going to save Falmouth. She's been close twice, but Chudley's Turpin ran
her off on both occasions."
"Definitely a lot of physical play between the opposing seekers today. The referees are letting
it go for now."
"Do they let those guys drink up in the booth while they're calling a game? Seriously, I'm a
bear back here?" I holler to Benson. She shrugs and goes back to the business at hand.
"Mashburn works the near side. He slings it to Lupin she lobs the quaffle from long range in
toward ring three."
Where're the bloody bludgers? I move to intercept and look instead for the Falcon beaters. I
catch the quaffle but hear the whooshing sound I knew was coming. My gut says it's coming
from the right, so I roll away.
It gets me under my right arm on the side of my ribs. The pads absorb some of the blow, but I
know rib damage when I feel it. The crowd groans as one. Drifting away slowly I gnash my
teeth together and look to where I let the quaffle drop.
"Weasley just got hammered! Harrison beats Ducet and Lupin to the quaffle and the Cannons
call time. Oh, looking at the replay you can see he knew it was coming too."
"Benson, Gariss weren't you paying attention when I said they'd be after him? Don't answer,
don't even open your stupid traps! Harrison help me get his pad up. I want to see what it
looks like for myself."
Coach lifts my right arm and it feels more like spaghetti than a muscled limb. Harrison
whistles and it isn't a "wow, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you" whistle either. Spitting
some blood out of my mouth, I look down the pitch and catch Vic's eyes. She looks horrified
and glances away. I tell myself she's just playing the game, but it'd be a good idea to avoid
me at the next family gathering. There's only one person in our large family I can't take in a
duel and I get a pass on that because he's Harry Potter.
"Here it comes boyo," Coach warns and puts his palm on my side.
I do my best not to yell, a muffled gurgling sound comes out anyway. "I'm three years older
than you. Who're you calling boyo?"
"Got me there," he concedes still groping my side with what feels like a pitchfork. "Old man it
is then."
"Alright then, what's the damage?" I grumble.
"Bruises and fractures up and down the line, but no clean breaks as far as I can tell. You want
me to move Gariss over to keeper and switch you to beater?"
"You really want to turn my championship shutout over to Pete? Better check my ears for
damage as well. I don't think I heard you right, Skipper. Besides, I'm a righty and I wouldn't
be able to hit a bloody thing with a beater bat. I've been hurt worse than this before. It's just
a flesh wound."
He misses or ignores my feeble attempt at humor. "Alright, but you're on a short leash, Ron.
Get his pad back on and make it snug. It'll only throb that way. Listen up, they smell blood
now and it's only going to get harder from here on out. You've all played one for the ages so
far, but we didn't come all this way just to let it go at the end. Don't give an inch! Turpin, any
time you feel like it in the next ten minutes would be a swell time to catch the bloody snitch."
We break huddle and I drift back to my normal position while raising and lowering my right
arm slowly, testing it. The results don't please me. I compensate and float closer to ring three.
They'll try to make me defend with my right side now.
I have been hurt worse before. I can block it out and continue. This is nothing compared to
the pain I've been through. I can scrap with the best of 'em!
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"I'm here to see Padma," I said to Xiao Fei Yang. There were people in this world I didn't like.
Draco Malfoy was one. Xiao Fei Yang was another. He was a short, angry Asian bigot, and
Master Ri's manservant and the gatekeeper into the Arithmancer's sanctum.
There was a long pause. Its part of what I hated about this part of the world. People always
wait before answering. It made me feel like they're trying to make me feel stupid on purpose.
"She working today. You see some other time," he replied in broken English.
Considering I'd scheduled this getaway to Fiji two months in advance, I'd found it pretty
difficult to believe she'd back out on me.
I gritted my teeth and tried once more. "I am here to see Padma. We have a vacation
planned. We are supposed to be leaving in two hours."
The man grimaced at me and said, "Vacation was cancelled. Master Ri have big deadline.
Come back later, Da Bi Zi." He called me "Big Nose" which was an insult to westerners.
I'd tried to abide by Padma's wishes. I'd brought gifts for Master Ri when I'd visited, but
apparently bringing four of anything was frowned on. How the hell was I supposed to know
that was offensive? It's Padma's "number!"
"I'll leave when Padma tells me she can't go. What you need to do is go call her, right now."
"You want me to call? Fine I go call!" He spun and slammed the door in my face. Padma spoke
fondly of this little sphincter. I had a theory that Xiao Fei Yang was pining for my lady. I spent
the next few minutes pondering how the Asian man must feel inadequate compared to an
internationally recognized quidditch player.
My musings were interrupted by a pair of apparition cracks behind me. I turned, dropping the
flowers in my hand to snatch my wand out of its holster. The first one sent a stunner variant
popular on this side of the world. I dodged to the right and threw up a quick pulse shield that
Harry taught me. Sure it wouldn't hold up as well as most typical shields, but if you're not
prepared, it's bloody hard to not get distracted by a big flashing light. He called it his "Blue
Light Special," and said he picked it up from a Yank.
I immediately tossed a couple of conjured ropes from the end of my wand and dive rolled onto
the grass. That's when the first cutter whizzed near enough to where I'd been standing.
Cutter's weren't playthings. They were trying to hurt me and I'd come a long way from being a
frightened schoolboy who could still hold his own against Riddle's Death Eaters.
There was some kind of intricate shrubbery that the little sniveling wretch inside the house
was always pruning. I transfigured a big chunk of it into a claw and grabbed one of the
attackers from behind with it. Dodging another spell, I ripped the claw out of the ground and
turned it into one big old ball of greenery rolling right at the second bloke complete with the
screams of the first guy trapped inside. The one guy turned and tried to vanish his buddy out
of it, but I used Snape's old Levicorpus and yanked his sorry arse into the air and the plonkers
collided in a satisfying crunch. I followed that display with a chain of stunners and
immobilizers to make certain that neither one of them would be getting up soon and turned
my attention back toward the estate. A wave of my wand told me their wards were up.
"If you've hurt Padma in any way, I will make what I just did to those two seem like nothing!
Bloody cheap wards, my brother could take them down in a minute. I'm nowhere near as good
as he is, so that means you've got about three."
With no response forthcoming, I started unraveling the first layer of wards, "Little pig, little
pig, let me in!"
Eventually, I did see Padma and she was livid.
I was too, but then again, I was wandless and in an apparition warded cell.
"What the bloody hell were you doing?" She accused.
"I was trying to see you. That little sewer urchin called in some thugs who attacked me."
"You blew up a portion of Master Ri's home! You put Xiao Fei Yang into the hospital! You
humiliated Master Ri when he came out of the study."
"Fei had it coming. Ri came out with his wand drawn and you were nowhere to be found."
When the Aurors showed up, it was six against one and the odds didn't really favor me.
"I was at the Grand Library doing research … research that's all but useless now since you just
destroyed an entire year of our work. We'll never make the Sydney conference now!"
"Hey, I wasn't the one who started tossing around lethal spells! Why the fuck aren't you
concerned about that?" Okay, I was pretty ticked off at that point as well.
"You're not even supposed to be here!"
"What are you talking about, Padma? Last I checked we were going to Fiji."
"I told you I had to cancel."
"You most certainly did not!" I'd taken a hit to a head every now and then, an occupational
hazard in my line, but I was fairly certain I'd recall that.
"I did so!"
"Did you floo me? Did you send a letter? Did I respond? Bollocks, none of this is important
right now. Just get up with the best lawyer you can find and I'll get out of this. We can leave
Hong Kong as soon as this mess gets sorted out."
"You don't understand what we're doing here. This is huge! We're taking data from the LHC
supercollider and processing it. We're unraveling the meaning of life, of magic, of the
universe, down to its basic building blocks!"
"Everyone knows it's forty-two. That Adams bloke solved it a long time ago."
In hindsight, I would recommend never trying to make a joke about your girlfriend's passion
from the wrong side of a jail cell and after you'd destroyed what she had spent a good portion
of last year working on.
"I always knew you never took what I did seriously Ron! Life's just one big party to you isn't
it?"
"Put a sock in it, Padma," I said gripping the bars and pressing my face up to it. "You want the
meaning of life? I'll tell you what it is. Life is our toes in the sand on a beach. Life is waking up
and being excited in the morning. Math isn't the answer to everything and life is not running
yourself into the ground crunching numbers for eighteen hours a day while the rest of the
world is passing you by. Life is traveling, going new places, having fun, being with family and
friends. When was the last time you went anywhere other than Hong Kong that didn't involve
me scheduling around your conferences and work retreats. I practically had to drag you to see
'Vati last time I was here and even she could see what a bucket full of sunshine you've turned
into."
"I never want to see you again, Ron. Get the hell out of my life. You can rot in here for all I
care." She stormed out of that room and out of my life.
Ten hours later, I got my lawyer – courtesy of Harry. Eight hours after that, my lawyer and I
were in front of a trio of magistrates. The two men and one woman emerged from the
pensieve and conferred. The translator filled me in on their decision.
"We have reviewed the events as have been provided by the parties and see that there has
been a grievous misunderstanding on all parts. Mister Weasley, you did not comply with the
request to vacate the premises, which in turn caused Mister Xiao Fei Yang to contact
bodyguards in the employ of his Master. The bodyguards reacted poorly to the unusual shield
spell you erected and attempted bodily harm. At this point you disabled your opponents and
attacked the estate. Normally, this would be considered criminal assault, but given your voiced
concern over the safety of Master Ri's apprentice this is mitigated to simple trespass and
vandalism. In agreement with your lawyer, you will pay three thousand galleons in reparation
to Master Ri and receive a suspended sentence of six months imprisonment that is contingent
on you leaving Hong Kong immediately and not returning in the next five years. Should you do
so; the court will impose the prison term. Do you accept these terms?"
I started to give my answer, but felt a firm hand on my shoulder. How long had Harry been
standing there!
He nodded to me.
The four most difficult words I've ever said were, "I accept those terms." Honestly, Ri and his
representatives didn't look all that pleased either.
Harry walked me out and thanked the lawyer in Chinese. My brother waited with me while
they returned my wand and other possessions.
"What the hell was that all about, Harry?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"Ri's got a lot of fame in this part of the world. You humiliated him and honor is big here. He
was trying to get you put away for five years. The judges were going to go along with it too,
but I showed up and explained what forces would set in motion if my brother and best friend
in the world was tossed behind bars."
Harry gestured to his side and I said, "That's not holly and phoenix feather."
"No, it isn't. There's an old saying that goes speak softly and carry a big stick."
"You can say that again. Thought you stashed that in the old man's tomb." Harry didn't
pussyfoot around. He came to play and I was certain he'd lay waste to half this city if needed.
Harry relaxed and smiled. "Do you know how many times some fool has broken in there and
tried to steal it? We keep a fake in there that's a portkey right to the aurors."
"Thanks mate. I've made a right mess of things here." I could have been upset that he used
his fame and position to get me out of a jam, but the prospect of five years in some Asian
hellhole can force a man to swallow a whole lot of pride.
He nodded and replied, "You never forget your first international incident. Even after all these
years, The Vatican still doesn't like it when I show my face in Italy."
Of course something didn't quite fit. "Harry, for a 'Goodwill Ambassador to the Muggles,' you
seem to have some serious pull."
"You really want to know?"
"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't."
My brother gave a half-smile, pulled out the elder wand and did the meanest looking privacy
ward I'd ever seen. I wasn't even sure I could hear my own thoughts straight!
Then he said, "Yeah, I stand on a stage with world leaders and I do ribbon cutting ceremonies
at those charmed turbine plants that will phase out the nuclear and fossil fuel plants
eventually. I shake hands with wizards and witches who spend all day vanishing toxic waste
and transfiguring garbage into reusable materials, but you know what else a Goodwill
Ambassador does?"
"No."
"Every so often, I have to get together with a strike team from the ICW. We go bust down the
doors of some 'tin pot' Voldemort wannabe and deliver a message to that wizard or witch. If
they're lucky, it's just a courtesy call to let them know that the ICW is watching. A lot of them
aren't that lucky and let's just leave it at that, okay?"
"Does Ginny know?" I was flabbergasted. I never even suspected.
"Who do you think made me go get the Deathstick in the first place? Anyway, enough about
what I do, let's talk about you. What are you going to do about Padma?"
"It doesn't sound like I can take a trip over to Ri's sanctum and have a sit down with her
anytime soon. She told me to get out of her life and left me sitting in a jail cell. I might be
slow on the uptake, but that's a bit stronger than her telling me that we need some time
apart."
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry Ron."
"Yeah me too."
"What now?"
"Want to go to Fiji with me?"

"Wish I could, but I've got Goodwill Ambassador stuff to do."
"The nice kind or the not so nice kind?" I asked.
"It depends. Hopefully the former, but probably the latter."
"Need some backup?"
"Ron, you're as good as any in a scrap and maybe when you finally hang up those keeper
pads, I'll train you up right, but only if you're serious about it. Without the training, you'd be a
liability to the team. No offense."
"None taken," I said. My inner child had just been spanked by Padma. It didn't need a second
helping from my best friend.
My personal effects finally showed up and Harry went with me along with the auror escort to
the international departure center. He waited to make sure the aurors left before telling me to
have a good time on my vacation and put the events of the last twenty-four hours behind me.
With my shrunken luggage in a fanny pack I lined up to catch the portkey to Fiji. There was a
shapely brunette witch standing there in a bikini with a sun hat on. She looked like she was
heading straight to the beach. The other two travelers were a pair of corporate types in suits.
"Hey, aren't you Ron Weasley?" she asked tilting her sunglasses. Her accent was Australian.
She was in her early twenties and introduced herself. Her name was Julie, Julia, or Judy. It
didn't really matter.
"That's me," I answered shaking her hand. She said she used to play keeper on her school
team a few years ago and that she loved watching the matches on the BBC Australia feed.
After landing in Fiji, she said we should have dinner or something. I politely declined, but after
the third day of no communication from Padma, I caught up with Julie/Julia/Judy and we had
dinner or something.
Numbers were that important to Padma. The problem in front of me wasn't too complex.
Simply put, it was "How many women will it take to forget about her?"
The answer was fairly large.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Harrison scores! Chudley runs the score up to one sixty to nothing. On every front of the
game today the Cannons have outplayed the Falcons. Simply put, they want it more and are
laying it all on the line. The Chudley faithful are on their feet screaming. I don't think anyone
has sat down in the last fifteen minutes."
"Ever since Weasley's injury, you've seen extra hustle out of the rest of his teammates. The
beaters are playing back a little, but the unheralded chasing line of Harrison, Wolfowitz, and
Smythe is really taking it to Falmouth."
"At this point, they're going to have to score and then catch the snitch just to tie things up.
Things are getting pretty desperate on Coach Kargan's sideline."
"Mashburn sets up Ducet. Ducet to Lupin. Harrison moves up to jam Lupin. Smythe and
Wolfowitz are in double up on Ducet. They're leaving Mashburn in the clear on the far side.
Lupin tosses to Mashburn who slashes in and takes the shot. Save by Weasley at the inside of
ring three."
"That's good defense by Chudley. Mashburn doesn't have Lupin's finesse or Ducet's power.
You can see where they're trying to force Weasely into making saves with the right side of his
body, but so far he's done an excellent job of protecting his injury. Of the last five shots only
one was stopped by his right arm. Oliver, you've been in this spot before, what's Chudley
doing here?"
"Weasley's a few degrees off his comfort zone and compensating for his injury. Kargan's
obviously going to adjust, he's been trying to get Ducet on Weasley's right hand side, but the
two chaser press isn't letting that happen. He'll either move Lupin to the right side and see if
she can beat the press or get Mashburn over on that side. That's when we find out if Coach
Atkins is more concerned with protecting Weasley's right side from any shots or whether their
worried about the strength of Ducet's release."
No, they can't be bothered to talk about how Rogers on the other side has collapsed and let
sixteen out of the fifty or so shots get by her. They are more interested in helping coach the
Falcon chasers right now.
"Lupin darts in and intercepts the quaffle. She's on a breakaway and the Falmouth beaters are
both controlling the bludgers. It's a one on one with Weasely."
I tune the effing bastards out. Vic is hauling wood straight down the center of the pitch.
What's she going to do? She's got the quaffle underhanded. Sixty percent of her underhanded
shots go to the keeper's right. Watch for the tip of her elbow! If she doesn't show it, the shot's
to my left. No! Arms coming up. She's cocking. Go right!"
"Lupin heaves to Weasley's right. It gets by him and … off the side of the rings. She had the
right idea, but he cut her angle down to the point where it was an extremely low percentage
shot. Weasley hurries to get the rebound and clear the quaffle."
"Too close," I say aloud, panting. I flip the quaffle to Benny Smythe and watch him circle
behind our rings and head back up the pitch on the far side.
"Action on the other side of the pitch, Ardell and Turpin are onto something. It looks like the
snitch. They're jostling each other hard and cut across the field. A lot of hand checking going
on. Ardell's got the inside position. The snitch turns back into the mess and oh there's a foul
by Turpin … but wait Ardell has the snitch!"
I look to the big screen for the replay in disbelief. Danica's hand check ended up going into
Ardell's face and gouging a little eye. The snitch turned back into them and bounced off
Turpin's gloved hand, but that slowed it enough for Ardell to snatch it out of the air.
The Skipper is already heading to the ref screaming, "Incidental contact! Incidental contact!
You can't call that!" Falmouth's coach is on his way too. I start to go over with all the other
players, but the sharp pain in my side says to limit my movements. Besides, I've lived and
breathed quidditch all my life. I already know how it's going to go down.
Unhitching my chest protector, I slip out of it and let it fall to the ground. It'll just be in the
way. On second thought, I should have kept it on. It'd been covering up a decent sized blood
stain. Here I thought I was just sweating more than usual.
Falmouth will get a penalty shot. If I stop it, we win. If I don't it goes to a shoot out. Regular
season games can end in a tie. Playoffs and championships can't.
Skipper calls time when the ref finally runs him off. The rest of the team is on the way as
other officials come out to trap the bludgers.
"Weasley, you look like a fucking inferius! Let me look at that!" He peels up my shirt. I look
down and see a piece of bone protruding about a quarter inch out of the skin.
"Must've been one of the last few shots." His hand moves over my rib cage and I yelp.
"That looks like the only one. You've done enough, Ron. Gariss, take over."
"Not happening, coach," I say. "I ain't flying away from this one. I got this shit."
Coach mulls it over. "You really think so?"
"This is my day! No one's going to take it from me. I own those chasers!" I yell loud enough to
make sure the other side hears me.
"Alright, I'm sold, but if they get it by you, I'm bringing in Gariss for the shoot out."
"Fair enough, Skipper."
"Harrison, get the man's chest protector."
"Nah, let 'em see it. The bludgers are boxed and the bloody shirt will mess with the shooter's
head."
"Hardcore, Weasley. Hardcore," Smythe says.
"Ron, you stop this and I'll name my first born after you," Danica adds.
"What if it's a girl?" Harrison asks.
"Then it's Rhonda or Veronica, I don't know," she replies hastily.
"This is all well and good you bunch of broom riding apes, but how about we save this for the
locker room, before my keeper bleeds out?"
Skipper clears them away and I turn my attention to Kargan and his three chasers who are
huddled near the middle of the pitch. Vic looks angry, disgusted kind of angry. She throws her
arms up in the air in protest. I can see a bit of her Veela nature showing. They break their
conference and it is Avery Ducet heading to the referee for the penalty shot.
"Kargan elects to go to the power quaffle over the skill shot."
"Lupin is not happy either. She is the league MVP."
"I think, in defense of Kargan, he has to do this. Lupin is Weasley's niece and as a family,
they're as close as it comes. He's out there looking beaten and bleeding through his uniform.
I'd never accuse her of conflicting loyalties, but by Kargan going to Ducet, he removes the
chance that we'd ever have to ask the question. It's the right move."
"Alright, Avery Ducet," I say. "You're my bitch. Come get some."
"This is it! Ducet takes the quaffle and starts his run picking up speed and bolting down the
centerline. He dips to his left, shifts right. Brings the quaffle up for release and …"
His wrist is the key! He's masking it by bringing the quaffle up high and using his head to
block my line of sight.
Make a decision…
Which way does he go?
Percentages…
Percentages…
Ring one gets forty-five percent of his shots, ring two eighteen. Thirty seven percent go to
ring three.
I'm hurt. He'll go to ring three.
Forty-five?
Ring one!
"There's the shot, highside ring one! Weasley's stretching for the stop…"
The quaffle grows larger in my field of vision. It's my life, my mortality coming at me. It's
everyone who said I'm just Harry's sidekick, a so-so keeper clinging to the faded coattails of a
"just above average" career. 'Licia's mangling of my finances and telling me how much she'd
lost. It's all the bitter words from Hermione that I'd earned from cheating on her, every one
night stand where I told the girl I'd be in touch and then never bothered because something I
hadn't tried caught my eye.
It's Padma turning away from me all over again.
"…he smacks the quaffle away! Cannons win! Cannons win! The door was open for a split
second, but Weasley got there in time and slammed it shut! Fifty one shots on goal by
Falmouth and Fifty one saves by Weasley! Can you believe it?"
The roar of the crowd is deafening. My teammates fly up and surround me. Benson and Turpin
kiss me. … So does Wolfowitz! Coach pushes them back so he can close my wound with his
wand and Harrison lifts a blood replenisher to my lips like its champagne or something.
It tastes like victory.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Skipper's handiwork was okay, but the team healer insisted on pulling me into her office and
doing it to her satisfaction. Rib injuries are never easy.
"They should have brought you to me straight away."

"Sorry Doc, most of that's on me. I wanted to stay on the field for the MVP trophy
presentation and take a couple turns around the pitch with it and the Championship cup!"
"Under the circumstances, I guess I can let it slide, Weasley," she says. "You're going to need
to lay off it for some time. You won't want to do any drills for three to five weeks."
"I think I'm done," I reply
"Doc" raises an eyebrow, "Really?"
"Yeah, how can I follow that up?"
"Good point, Ron. You told anyone yet?"
I shake my head and say, "Nah, my agent is probably reminding the general manager about
the escalator bonus in my contract for getting the MVP award and the rest of my family is
probably won't stop partying for the next month. I'll tell them when the time is right.
It occurs to me that I've done something incredible, but outside of my kids and the rest of the
clan, I don't have someone to celebrate it with.
The healer finishes, congratulates me again and leaves me in the trainer's room … alone.
I'm all alone and I've played the last game of quidditch I'll ever play. What now?
A knock at the startles me out of my mental death spiral. "Mr. Weasley?"
"Come back later!"
"Many pardons," the voice says from the other side of the door. "I'm an employee from the
English Quidditch Hall of Fame and if it is not too much trouble I've been asked by my
superiors to acquire Mr. Weasley's jersey for posterity. I just wanted to make certain you
hadn't vanished it. I will wait outside until you're ready."
Either he's legit, or that's one brazen souvenir hunter. I wonder if he is going to sell it on
Ebay.
"Come on in."
The door opens and a young man with dark skin enters. He smiles at me. "My mum was in
Gryffindor with you."
"Nishita! Haven't seen you in a few years, lad. How've you been? Working for the Hall of
Fame?"
"Yes, they want to display it. According to records, yours is the first shutout by a keeper in a
championship game in over three hundred years. May we have it?"
"It'd just end up balled up in one of my drawers somewhere. Go ahead."
"The Hall of Fame thanks you for your contribution, sir," he says and then pauses. A frown
crosses his face and he continues. "May I speak to you on a more personal matter?"
"What is it, Nishita?"
"It is not my place, but I would ask you to come and speak to my aunt."
"She's the one who told me that she never wanted to see me again. I'm respecting her
wishes."
Nishita explains, "My aunt is here interviewing to be Headmistress McGonagall's replacement.

She's been offered the job, but is leaning toward turning it down. I think you are the reason
why."
"Me? It's been over five years. I doubt she's still carrying a torch for me."
He shakes his head and says, "Last week, my mother caught her listening to your game on a
wireless in the guest room and crying. She refused to discuss the matter further with mother.
The very next day, she began to speak of not taking the Headmistress position. I may be
young and foolish, but I do not believe in coincidences. Please Mister Weasley, I am not asking
you to go and apologize to her, but simply make peace with her. You appear to have moved
on, but I sense my aunt has not."
I should be on my way up to the family box, to get their congratulations, and do an interview
with the network that'll allow me to take a couple of cheap shots at Wood. Instead, I look up
at the clock – one minute until five … four fifty-nine … four plus five make nine.
I stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago too.
"Alright, let me grab a change of clothes," I say.
He takes a whiff, "May I suggest a shower first? What is that smell?"
"It's my own brand of salve and it works! But you're right; that's probably a good idea."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Hello Parvati," I say.
"How do you know I'm not Padma?"
"Your eyes. Hers always had a bit more grey in them. You're also not that surprised I'm here."
"Nishita is a wonderful young man, but I'm the mastermind behind this."
"There's something you don't hear every day."
"Cute, 'Won Won,' very cute. Congratulations on the game. How're you ribs? Did you apparate
into a dumpster on the way here?" She sniffs the air in disdain.
"Har Har. I'll live. Numbing charms work wonders. Saw your last movie, it didn't suck as much
as the one before it."
"You're so kind, but let's get to the problem of my sister. Ten days ago, she wanted to be
Headmistress of Hogwarts more than anything in the world. Tomorrow, she's rejecting the
offer and leaving the country. Whatever is vexing my sister has to do with you. Please go and
fix it."
"I'll be hanged if I know what it is. Where is she?" That didn't sound good. I hope it isn't what
I suspect.
"Out back, in the garden, good luck, Ron."
The walk is longer than I remember. All the way over here I was trying to think of what to
say.
She looks up when the screen door opens. There's a moment of shared disbelief as our eyes
meet and it all makes sense. So many emotions play out on her face. Surprise, panic and the
one I key on – fear.
"Ri made you swear an oath didn't he?"
"Yes, the unbreakable vow … to never seek you out again. It was … it was the only way he
would keep me on as his apprentice. I was so furious that I agreed."
"He went too far!"
She drops her head into her hands and sobs. "When I was granted my mastery, I asked him
to release the vow and he refused. He said that I was better off without you in my life."
I respond to her pain and embrace her. For the first time in years, she's in my arms again.
The dull ache in my side pales next to the one in my heart. I feel something I haven't felt in
years. Our lips touch and I taste the salt of her tears. "I'm sorry I never tried to get in contact
with you."
Sniffling, she stares into my eyes and says, "That little shit Xiao Fei Yang was blocking our
correspondence! He never sent that letter when I cancelled the vacation to Fiji. After you and I
broke up, he started trying to use love potions on me until Master Ri dismissed him."
I could easily kill both of them, but they aren't important. Padma is. "It doesn't matter," I say.
"I sought you out. We can be together again."
"I'm not sure. The wording of the vow was that I could never seek you out. Literally, if we
agreed to meet somewhere for lunch, I could be seeking you out."
Searching my mind for everything I know about these kind of vows, I say, "Well, maybe the
vow won't be effective if your name was Padma Weasley."
"Ron!"
"Yeah, I guess we can't be sure. C'mon, I'll take you back to the stadium."
"What? Why?"
"One of the last things you said to me was something along the lines of life is my view of life is
one big party. Oddly enough, the answer to our problem is at one big party right now.
Considering I just won the big game and now I have a chance to get you back, I can't think of
a better place to be."
She shakes her head. "I know you think the world of Bill, but I've spoken to other
Cursebreakers. He won't be able to help us."
I smile and kiss her again. "Wrong brother. I'll never pretend to know the answer to life's
great questions, but I do know what the answer is to misbehaving wizards. It's Harry Potter."
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Three days later, there's a knock at my flat's door. I get up and try not to wake Padma.
It's Master Ri and Harry.
"Hello."
"Morning Ron," Harry says. "I'm trying to help this Master Arithmancer locate his former
apprentice. He can't stop talking about her. In fact, it appears he's been cursed. No matter
what he tries to say, everything comes out as … well, I guess I should let him show you. Go
ahead Master Ri."
The man looks furious, after a minute he opens his mouth and says, "Padma Patil, I release
you from any and all vows you have made to me and apologize for my childish behavior."
"That's a pretty nasty curse, mate. I'll go wake her."
"Better hurry. If we don't get it lifted soon, it might just spread to his hands and then
everything he tries to write will end up being the same message."
The look on Ri's face is priceless.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Author's Notes – Yeah, it's been awhile since I posted something. I've been busy finishing up
my second original novel (Spirals of Destiny Book One: Rider). It went on sale last week. You
can find all the details in my profile. The first two chapters are available on my website.
There's even a place you can go to win a signed copies of Dead Eye and Horror, Humor and
Heroes.
I appreciate the support of all you folks reading my original work.
Next up for me are TML 14 and Inner Eye 6. For those clamoring for the sequel to Lie, I'm
going to finish TML and Inner Eye before launching the sequel to Lie
This fic is a one shot. I don't plan on continuing it. It was somewhat inspired by Kevin
Costner's movie, For the Love of the Game.
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silentclock
Author of 3 Stories
Rated: M - English - Romance - Harry P. & Daphne G. - Reviews: 774 - Updated: 03-10-
11 - Published: 12-22-09 - Complete - id:5599903
Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter and his universe are the
property of the brilliant JK Rowling. The same, of course, applies to all following chapters.
Vernon Dursley was having a very bad day. Not bad in the conventional sense, but abnormal.
And to him, that was even worse. The freakishness started early when, on his way to work, he
saw a cat reading. Later, the abominations came out in droves, all of them wearing dresses-
even the men. One of them had the audacity to try to speak with him, Vernon Dursley, who
was perfectly normal and different from the freaks in every conceivable way.
Yes, all things considered, Vernon Dursley's day was one he would prefer to forget. To top it
all off, he was still awake well after midnight. He had been lying in bed for several hours
contemplating his day, trying to fall asleep. He had to be at work bright and early tomorrow
morning after all, and could not have people talking about him staying awake late at some
party. To be fair, he was only unable to sleep because the brandy he drank after seeing an owl
in broad daylight was not sitting well with his heavy dinner.
After much consideration, Vernon decided he would not be able to sleep without a glass of
warm milk and perhaps a couple biscuits. He rolled out of bed and lumbered downstairs to the
kitchen. When he was heading back to bed after enjoying his snack, he heard what sounded
like three different voices coming from his front yard.
Vernon stormed to the front door and threw it open before fainting.
The first thing he saw upon regaining consciousness was a very old man in a dress. He was
leaning over looking down at Vernon over a pair of half-moon spectacles, while his silver beard
and hair dangled near the floor. "Vernon Dursley, isn't it?" he asked as he placed what
appeared to be a stick in a pocket.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" he blustered.
The man chuckled softly before answering, "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the
Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"You're one of those… those freaks, aren't you?"
"I am a wizard, yes."
"Get off my property."
Dumbledore frowned, "I fear I cannot do that just yet, Mr. Dursley. I wish I were here for a
more pleasant reason, but I must tell you that your sister-in-law and her husband were
killed."
"Got themselves blown up, eh?"
He sighed, "I am here to deliver your nephew. He will need a proper home."
Vernon's face turned puce and he started growling, "I most certainly will not take in that little
freak."
"Mr. Dursley, I must insist," Dumbledore began.
"I don't give a damn what you insist. I have my own family to support and will not be raising
your little oddity."
"I am prepared to pay for his room and board."
Vernon's eyes lit up upon hearing this. He had only recently started selling drills, and was not
yet making enough to live the life he knew he deserved. "All right then. I'll want to make a
decent profit on the boy."
"Very well," Dumbledore responded solemnly. "We will, of course, be keeping an eye on Harry
to make sure he is treated properly."
Vernon grumbled but did not say anything.
"When he is eleven, he will be attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.
They spent the rest of the night discussing an agreement which would allow Harry to stay at
Privet Drive for monthly payments at the expense of the Headmaster.
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silentclock
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Harry Potter was a very well-mannered child; at least, that is what all his teachers told him.
He wanted to make his teachers proud of him, even though he knew it was not the same as
love, it it was the closest he was likely to ever receive. His marks were wonderful, almost
perfect, and they were hard earned. He spent all his free time studying for his classes or
reading. He read through all his textbooks multiple times and planned to read through them
again. His aunt would allow him to visit the library two times every month, and he always
borrowed as many books as he was allowed.
He had taught himself how to read at a very young age. His cousin Dudley spent most of his
time watching the television or playing video games on his computer, but Harry quickly
discovered his preference for a good book.
His relatives neither encouraged nor discouraged his scholarly pursuits. Like with most aspects
of his life, they did not care.
Harry still remembered the time when he brought home his first ever test. He had seen
Dudley bring home a test the day before- he had barely passed, and his Aunt Petunia stuck it
on the refrigerator, smiling proudly. Harry had gotten a perfect score, and could not wait to
show his Aunt. He was sure she would be proud and hoped that she would love him for it, but
she had ignored him.
He still yearned for the Dursleys' love, but had come to accept the indifference. At least they
did not hate him. They gave him a bedroom and he shared meals with them. Unlike most
children his age he was not required to do chores, so he had even more time to dedicate to his
studies.
His cousin Dudley was civil to him when they were home, because his parents forced him to
be. At school, however, Dudley did his best to prevent Harry from having any friends. He and
his gang threatened away anyone who tried to befriend Harry.
The worst part, he supposed, was that he loved his family regardless of how they treated him.
While his aunt and uncle were uncaring and his cousin cruel, they still gave him a place to live
after his parents were killed. He hated being so alone.
Daphne Greengrass hated her parents, but she had not always. She spent several years trying
to convince them to love her like she loved them, but they were too busy to either notice or
care. It took a number of years, but she eventually stopped wasting her love on them, and
slowly began to resent them. That resentment festered, and eventually developed into hatred.
She didn't hate her entire family. Her grandmother, Adeline, was her favorite person in the
world. They loved each other unconditionally. Adeline was extremely disappointed in her
daughter, Emelia, who had allowed gold and the pursuit of it to become more important than
family. Adeline took it upon herself to raise her granddaughter to be a respectable woman.
Her parents taught her independence, but Daphne learned nearly else everything she knew
from her grandmother. Adeline taught her that she needed to be strong, both internally and
externally. She taught her that the ends always justify the means. She taught her magic.
Adeline gave Daphne her old Hogwarts textbooks to learn magical theory through the week.
On Saturdays and Sundays, Adeline loaned her granddaughter her wand and let her practice
spells.
Daphne also loved her sister, Astoria. She had done her best to take care of Astoria, and
always taught her the lessons Adeline taught her.
Daphne was a pureblood, and her parents were both very proud of their status. Adeline,
however, told her that blood was unimportant, and her grandmother was always right.
"Hey Potter, Mum and Dad left to eat dinner with one of Dad's clients," Dudley called as he ran
up the stairs. He barged into his cousin's room and saw Harry reading from his science book.
"Why are you reading on a Saturday?" Harry, too engrossed in his reading, did not even notice
Dudley. Angry at being ignored, Dudley ripped the book out of Harry's hands, tearing out a
page in the process.
"I'll teach you to listen to me, Potter." Dudley drew back his fist to punch him, while Harry
raised his hands to defend himself and closed his eyes. He opened them when he heard a
crash and saw his cousin on his back beneath the bookshelf he had knocked over when he
slammed into it.
Harry spent the next few months researching what had happened to his cousin, and was
completely baffled. He scoured the library for material to explain the situation, and found it
should not have been possible.
Stranger still was that this was not the first time something unexplainable happened around
Harry. He recalled the time he was running from Dudley and ended up on the roof of the
school. It seemed almost like magic.
Today was his cousin's birthday, and the rest of his family had gone to the zoo to celebrate.
Harry wandered downstairs to find something for breakfast and noticed that the post had not
yet been collected, so he did it himself. He sifted through the envelopes until one caught his
eye- the return address was: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry considered the implications. Witchcraft and Wizardry. Was that anything like magic? He
decided to ask his Aunt Petunia about it when she returned from the zoo.
The rest of the day seemed to pass at an agonizingly slow pace for Harry. By the time his
relatives arrived, he was beginning to get impatient. As soon as she walked through the door,
he asked, "Aunt Petunia, what's Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"
He finally knew why strange things always happened around him; he was a wizard.
Apparently, the envelope he found contained the monthly payment his relatives received to
raise him. His Aunt Petunia had been very reluctant to give him any details, but he had coaxed
them out of her. He was most disturbed by what had happened to his parents. He now knew
they had been murdered by a dark wizard named Voldemort. A dark wizard had killed the only
people who ever loved him, and Harry decided that he would avenge them.
When he turned eleven, he would attend Hogwarts, a school for magic. He had always been
the best at school, and quickly decided that he would maintain that reputation at Hogwarts.
He would be the most powerful wizard in the world.
He sat on his bed analyzing his situation. Exactly how did one practice magic?
Daphne had never felt as alone as she did when her beloved grandmother left her alone with
her parents. She stood, unmoving, in front of her grandmother's casket as silent tears tracked
down her cheeks. Around her neck hung her grandmother's favorite pendant, which she had
given her shortly before her death.
She promised herself that she would become completely independent. She would never again
allow herself to need another person, as it hurt too badly to lose them. It was then she
decided to mask her emotions to prevent others from trying to get close to her. She could not
allow herself to be harmed like this again.
Harry had spent weeks trying to access his magic. It was within him, so it had to be
something he could use consciously. For countless hours, he was consumed by a magical
introspection. He saw a dazzling glow within him and felt the need to reach it. He grasped for
it time and time again, getting closer with each attempt.
He, of course, maintained his impeccable marks at school. He could not allow one of the other
students to surpass him. His teachers still praised his work, but he found himself caring less
about the mundane world than he did about the magical one.
One quiet afternoon, when the Dursleys were out of the house, Harry finally reached his
magic. He suddenly felt much lighter- like he could accomplish anything. He raised his hand
and focused his attention on a book on the other side of the room. The book shot out of the
shelf and into Harry's hand. "So that's magic."
Harry had finally received his letter and was satisfied to learn he would be attending Hogwarts
in the fall. He never had any doubt, but was pleased that it was official. He felt like he had
been practicing magic all his life, though he had only been using it intentionally for a little over
a year. He was able to bring things to him and send them flying away. He could even lock and
unlock doors.
On his eleventh birthday, he was awakened by what sounded like the front door being
knocked off the hinges. He sprinted downstairs and spotted the largest person he had ever
seen being let into the house by his uncle.
"'Arry?"
Harry spent the next half hour getting introduced to Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper at
Hogwarts. Hagrid told him stories about his parents and the trouble James caused while he
was in school. He was surprised, but relieved, that the Dursleys had even told Harry about
magic. He did learn one new thing; he was famous for defeating Voldemort after he killed
James and Lily.
Eventually, Harry and Hagrid made their way to London to purchase supplies. They entered a
place called Diagon Alley through a pub and, sure enough, the patrons all seemed to worship
him. Harry was not sure he felt about his fame. He had always wanted to be adored for his
achievements, but he did not believe he had earned all this attention.
The pair visited the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and Harry was surprised at the wealth his
parents had left him. He took out a sizeable bag of gold to purchase everything for school.
Hagrid went lower below the ground and visited another vault. He removed a small package,
the only thing in the vault, and refused to tell Harry what he had taken. Harry decided that he
would investigate what Hagrid had removed later.
Harry made his way to a clothing store that specialized in robes. The owner of the shop was
already helping another customer, a girl of the same age as Harry. Harry observed the girl.
Her eyes were the bluest Harry had ever seen. Since he had taken control of his magic, he
could usually tell what people were thinking, but the girl was an enigma. Her emotions were
firmly under control, but she seemed to be depressed. There was an undeniable pain in her
cobalt eyes.
"Will this be your first year at Hogwarts as well?" he asked her.
She gazed at him for a second, as if considering whether she should respond to his question
before answering curtly, "Yes."
"How much magic can you do?"
"Enough."
Harry tried to initiate conversation with the girl until the shop owner ushered her out and
began working with him. Her answers were always brief, suggesting that she had no desire to
converse with Harry, but he was intrigued by her. He decided that he would learn more about
her once he reached Hogwarts.
The rest of the day was uneventful, at least, as uneventful as a day in the wizarding world
could be. He purchased his books and potions supplies and Hagrid bought him a pet owl, who
he named Hedwig.
It was getting late, and Harry needed only one more thing. His wand. The old man who ran
the wand store was the most eccentric man Harry had ever met, and he seemed quite pleased
to finally meet Harry. He experimented with what felt like hundreds of wands before the old
man pulled a dust covered out of the back room. As soon as he touched it, Harry knew he had
found his wand, or according to the shop owner, his wand had found him. More bizarre was
that his wand was a brother to Voldemort's. He was ecstatic to have such a powerful wand.
Hagrid brought him back to Privet Drive where he would have to stay for the next month until
he could finally leave for Hogwarts. Time seemed to slow down as Harry's anticipation became
palpable.
The day finally arrived. Uncle Vernon drove him to King's Cross Station, and instructed him to
find someone to tell him how to get to Platform 9 ¾. Harry pushed his trolley in front of him
as he approached Platform 10. He was surprised to see the girl from the robe store in front of
him, though she never noticed his presence. He noticed that she was also alone. He began
following her until he saw her run through the barrier between the two platforms.
He briefly considered his options, before deciding to follow her through the barrier. He began
moving at a brisk pace and disappeared through the wall.
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Severus Snape was a very confused man, and there was only one reason for it: Harry James
Potter, the spawn of his boyhood nemesis. He wished he hated the child. Hatred was easy. He
could deal with hatred, but his feelings regarding the boy were more complicated. He had tried
for eleven years to hate the child of James Potter, but was unable to hate the child of Lily
Evans, the only person to ever befriend him and the woman he still loved.
Though no one else realized it, save perhaps Dumbledore, Shape was incredibly nervous when
the first years were ushered inside the castle for the Sorting. He had never seen the boy, and
feared what would happen when they met. When he saw him walk into the Great Hall for the
first time, his childhood resentment welled up in his chest. The dratted boy was an exact
replica of his father.
Except for his eyes. He had the beautiful, emerald green eyes of Lily Evans. And that was his
dilemma. He could not love the image of James Potter any more than he could hate the eyes
of Lily Evans. Severus Snape was only alive because of his ability to mask his emotions and
think quickly, but he could not, for the life of him, decide how to handle Harry Potter.
The boy being sorted into Ravenclaw only served to further complicate the matter. James
Potter was a Gryffindor to the core, while Lily would have thrived in any of the Houses. The
length of time it took the hat to Sort Potter suggested that he could have fit in more than one
House as well. It would have been far easier to hate a to-the-core Gryffindor Golden Boy.
In the end, he decided that he could not bear to see the eyes of Lily Evans look up at him with
malice. He would give the boy a chance, but he still had to prove himself.
His conflicting emotions crossed his face before he quickly replaced his mask when Harry
Potter walked into his classroom for his first Potions lesson. Snape attempted to maintain his
usual neutrality when dealing with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. While he polarized the
Gryffindors and Slytherins, the other houses generally provided a middle ground that he
neither hated nor favored.
He forced himself to resist the urge to insult Potter when he checked attendance, but he still
had to test the boy. He gave his usual speech glorifying the art of Potions brewing, and began
the questioning. "Mr. Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an
infusion of wormwood?"
"Draught of Living Death, sir."
"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"The stomach of a goat, sir."
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"There is no difference, professor."
Perhaps, he thought, he is more like Lily than his father. "You are… correct, Mr. Potter." It was
then that Severus Snape decided to ignore his striking resemblance to James Potter and treat
him as the son of Lily Evans.
Things had fallen into a routine for Harry. He knew his way around the castle, and enjoyed
most of his classes, aside from Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had expected Defense to be
exciting, but it was terribly dull. His History of Magic class was not something he considered
particularly exhilarating, but at least it was educational. Something was odd about Quirrell; he
just was not sure what. The man appeared to be scared of his own shadow, but Harry could
not help but be skeptical. His stutter seemed to be forced. Harry decided to keep a very close
eye on the Defense professor.
He had trouble reading Snape. By all accounts, the man was a talented Potions Master, one of
the best in the world, but the way he looked at Harry was a bit disconcerting. He was a
competent teacher, Harry supposed, but he made him feel ill at ease. Why did Snape single
him out on the first day of class? Harry initially believed that Snape was trying to set him up
to fail, but the man had looked oddly pleased after Harry answered his questions.
Snape confused him, but his real worry was with Quirrell.
Professor Sprout was a pleasant woman, but Harry had did not care for Herbology. He did well
in the class because his pride would not allow him to struggle, but he never took pleasure
from his time in the greenhouses.
The always jovial Professor Flitwick was thrilled to have Harry in his house and took every
opportunity to dote on him. He was quickly becoming the Charms Master's favorite student.
Flitwick told Harry that his knack for Charms rivaled that of his mother, and Lily was one of
the best students Flitwick had ever taught. Harry genuinely enjoyed the subject and professor.
Professor McGonagall had initially seemed to be bitter about Harry's Sorting, but had gotten
over it when Harry had displayed his talent for Transfiguration. He and Hermione Granger
always competed to complete their assignments first, and the Deputy Headmistress was
thrilled to have two students excelling at her subject. While Harry preferred Charms,
Transfiguration was one of his favorites.
Harry was disturbed by the news of a break-in at Gringotts, as he believed it had something to
do with the school. Hagrid had emptied a vault on his birthday, the same day that an empty
vault had been plundered by thieves. Harry had been curious about what Hagrid removed
from the vault at the time, and felt his curiosity grow. He recalled Dumbledore's speech at the
beginning of the year, when he had forbidden the students to enter the third floor corridor. It
had seemed odd at the time, but Harry had not given it much thought. He decided to wait for
another unusual occurrence.
His first flying lesson had been one of the best experiences of his life. The broom had
responded to his every command, as if it were an extension of his being. The feeling of the air
caressing his face as he flew through the sky was one of the best things he had ever
experienced. Madam Hooch had commented that he was a natural on a broom, and had told
him that he should try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team next year. Harry told her that he
would consider it, but doubted he would try out. He loved flying, but did not want to waste
time he could use for his studies.
Before Harry knew it, the first two months of the year had elapsed. He was the happiest he
had ever been, and felt at home for the first time in his life. He and Hermione were
competitive, but they were also best friends who spent nearly all their time together.
On the night of the Halloween Feast, Harry and Hermione were congratulating each other on
their mutual success in charms class. They had both successfully cast the levitation charm on
their first attempt
The students were enjoying the feast when Quirrell sprinted into the Great Hall, shouting
about a troll in the dungeons before he fainted. Harry took a skeptical glance at the still form
of Quirrell before turning to Hermione. "I'm not buying it. How about you, Hermione?'
"I'm afraid not. But it looks like Snape is keeping an eye on him." Harry looked at the Head
Table and noticed that Snape was, indeed, hanging back with his eyes cast on Quirrell, while
the other professors were rushing forward and ordering the students to return to their
dormitories. Harry and Hermione stepped in line behind their Prefects and headed back to the
Ravenclaw tower.
Daphne was not enjoying Hogwarts. She had discovered that none of the teachers were as
capable as her grandmother, and she was near the top in all her classes. She had continued to
read ahead in all of her subjects, as she saw no reason to move as slowly as the other
students. There were only two students in here year who moved as quickly through the
material as her.
Her biggest problem was Draco Malfoy. The boy was insufferable. He had, on more occasions
than she cared to remember, attempted to befriend her and seemed reluctant to take "Bugger
off," for an answer. She had made it quite clear that she was not interested in his
companionship, but he persisted. He had only stopped after finding himself on the business
end of her wand.
Malfoy had attempted to win over the House, but had only succeeded in earning two witless
thugs in Crabbe and Goyle and a love struck puppy in Pansy Parkinson. His father's money
carried some sway with most of the House, but the boy was a bit dim.
She realized that Malfoy had only stopped accosting her because she was better than him with
a wand, so she put even more attention into her studies because she knew that it was
advantageous to be more capable than him.
Part of the reason she was so disenchanted with Hogwarts was the loneliness. She had
accepted long ago that she was destined to be alone, and had become a better person for it,
but that did not make it any less painful. She was cold and distant with everyone, wearing a
mask to keep others from seeing her emotions. Even her relationship with her sister had
deteriorated. Because of her personality, or the personality she revealed to the school, nearly
everyone in her House hated her. She could accept being hated by others, but she was afraid
that she might hate herself.
The months blurred past, and the Christmas Holidays had arrived. Harry was extremely
disappointed to see Hermione leave, but ordered her to have fun with her parents. Before she
left for the train, she had handed Harry a gift and told him not to open it until Christmas
morning. Harry had hugged her tightly before handing her a box wrapped in green and red
paper.
Harry had been alone for a decade, but loneliness was more difficult to cope with now that he
knew how it felt to have a friend. Harry went through the motions on the days leading up to
Christmas, continuing to study, but all his actions were mechanical.
On Christmas morning, he awoke early to open his gift from Hermione. He removed the paper
carefully, almost reverently. It was his first Christmas present; Hell, it was his first ever
present. He assumed that his parents had given him gifts, but he did not remember any of
them. It was a copy of Achievements in Alchemy, an advanced book on the subject which he
had not been able to find in the Hogwarts library.
He stayed tucked in his bed with the curtains closed around him reading his book until it was
time for breakfast. As he got out of bed, he noticed another gift lying on the floor. Who else
would have gotten him a present? He looked at the note on top of the package and discovered
that it had belonged to his father. The note was not signed. He examined the present, and saw
that it was a cloak. He threw it over his pajamas and disappeared. Harry gaped as he realized
that someone had sent him an invisibility cloak.
The rest of the day was agonizing for Harry. He had a plan for the night, and time was passing
at an amazingly slow pace. After dinner, he returned to his dormitory and waited until he was
sure everyone was asleep before throwing on his invisibility cloak and heading to the third
floor.
He moved as cautiously and soundlessly as he could manage, ensuring he made it to the

forbidden corridor without being heard. He had only one close encounter when he had spotted
the caretaker Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris. He had stopped moving and waited for them to
pass, but felt his heart beat quicken and sweat trickle down his brow when the old man had
stopped moving. He had a sixth sense for detecting rule breaking. Harry had remained silent
and still for what felt like hours until Filch decided to continue his rounds.
Harry made it to the corridor with no other interruptions. He eventually came to a locked door.
The lock was simple enough to overcome, being no more complex than the charm Daphne had
placed on her compartment door on the Express.
Harry stared at the floor, his pulse racing as he pushed the door open. Slowly, he raised his
head taking in the details of the room. The first thing he noticed was a trap door covered by a
massive paw. His head jerked up, and he caught the eye of a monstrous three-headed dog.
Harry's heart caught in his throat as he slammed the door shut and began running. He had no
idea where he was going, his only objective being to put as much distance as possible
between himself and that beast.
He sprinted through room after room, up and down stairs, and through seemingly endless
corridors, not coming to a stop until his lungs screamed for air. After he caught his breath, he
examined his surroundings. It appeared to be an unused classroom, coated with years of dust.
In one corner sat an ornately decorated, golden-framed mirror. There were words on the
mirror written in a language he did not understand.
Exhausted from his run, he sat down in front of the mirror, discarding his invisibility cloak on
the floor beside him. He peered into the mirror and saw his reflection, but he was not alone.
He was surrounded by other people, but he only recognized two of them. His Uncle Vernon
was patting him on the shoulder, a look of pride in his eyes, while his Aunt Petunia was gazing
at him lovingly. Two others, a man who looked like an older version of Harry and a woman
with dark red hair and emerald green eyes were staring at him longingly. His parents.
Harry had never felt as wanted or loved as he did when he looked at himself in the mirror. The
hours flew by, and he could not even remember how long he had been sitting before the
image of his family. He could have spent the rest of his life there, with people who loved him.
The sound of footsteps from behind caught his attention. He craned his neck and saw Daphne
Greengrass enter the room, her usual sneer missing. "What do you see in the mirror, Potter?"
she asked softly. Her eyes were looking past Harry into the mirror, and he could easily see a
look of hunger on her face. It was the same look he knew currently graced his own face.
But it was something he had never expected to see on Daphne's face. He had not spoken to
her since that day in Madam Malkin's, but he continued to be intrigued by her. He had known
there was much more to her than she ever showed the rest of the school, and the look on her
face confirmed it.
"I see… myself and people who love me. What about you, Greengrass?"
She chuckled mirthlessly and whispered, "We're not so different, Potter." Daphne walked out
of the room fighting back the tears which threatened to escape her. She had been visiting her
grandmother for the past month, and knew now that she could not go back. She had seen the
look on Potter's face and realized the mirror was consuming him as she now knew it was
consuming her. She had, of course, known that her obsession was unhealthy, but had not
realized the potential damage until she saw the manic longing on Harry's face; a look she
knew was mirrored on her own face.
A few minutes after her departure, Harry stood and threw his invisibility cloak over him,
wanting nothing more than to return, but knowing he should not. The look on Daphne's face
told him that much.
He slowly made his way back to the dorm, before collapsing onto his bed and letting oblivion
embrace him.
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Harry did not awaken until late the next morning. His dreams had been a continuation of what
he witnessed in the mirror, and he had fought to remain asleep. The dream world of the mirror
was much more pleasant than the real world. When he finally opened his eyes, he stared at
the ceiling above his bed considering how things could have been if only his parents had not
been murdered, if only his Aunt and Uncle had loved him as he loved them. How different
would he be had he ever known any love?
The Christmas holidays came to an end, and things got back to normal at Hogwarts. The
students, most notably two Ravenclaws and one Slytherin, increased their studying as they
prepared for the looming exams.
Through all his preparation, two things remained on his mind: the three-headed dog and the
mirror. He told Hermione about the dog, but would never tell a soul about the mirror or what
he saw in it.
Days and weeks sped by, and the bitter cold of winter gave way to the pleasantness of spring.
Harry learned through the Hogwarts rumor mill that Hagrid had been placed on probation for
owning a live dragon. Apparently, Dumbledore was the only thing keeping the distraught man
out of Azkaban.
Hagrid had spent the better part of the year attempting to get Harry to visit him for tea, but
had been unsuccessful. Hagrid was a nice enough man, but not much of a conversationalist.
Nevertheless, Harry decided to pay the man a visit in an attempt to console him, and if he
received any information, so much the better. The three-headed dog seemed to be a
manifestation of Hagrid's fixation with dangerous beasts. Coupled with the withdrawal he had
made from Gringotts, Harry had reason to believe that Hagrid knew a great deal about
whatever was being hidden in the school. The dog was, quite clearly, standing atop a trapdoor
and protecting whatever Hagrid removed from the vault.
Harry informed Hermione of his plan, and set off for Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden
Forrest. He was surprised at how long it took him to reach his home. Hagrid opened the door
on Harry's second knock. Tears cascaded down the large man's face as he wrapped his arms
around Harry in a crushing embrace. Harry noticed that he looked more unkempt than usual;
his hair was matted against his head and his eyes, glistening with tears, were bloodshot.
"Yeh heard abou' Norbert then, Harry?"
"Is there anything I can do, Hagrid?"
"Nah," he bawled, "Dumbledore's doin' all tha' he can. Great man, Dumbledore." Harry patted
his shoulder awkwardly, and Hagrid began telling him stories about the baby dragon.
Harry stayed with Hagrid until dark, and the man was beginning to compose himself. He still
looked a mess, but his sobs had become much less frequent
As Harry stood to leave, he attempted to catch the man off guard and decided to forgo
subtlety, thinking it would be wasted on him. "Hagrid, what did you take from Gringotts on my
birthday?"
"I can' tell yeh tha'. 'S none o' yer business."
"Whose business is it?"
"Professor Dumbledore's and Nicholas Flamel's, o' course."
Harry's eyes widened. He had read about Flamel in the book Hermione had given him for
Christmas, and knew he was the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone. He could not
believe that Dumbledore would keep an item capable of sustaining eternal life in a school.
Harry thanked Hagrid for his hospitality and sprinted back to the school to tell Hermione what
he had discovered.
Later that night, Harry sat restlessly on his bed with the curtains drawn around him, the
revelations of the day preventing him from sleeping. He felt the need for comfort only loved
ones could provide, and again mourned the fact that he had none. After he was sure everyone
else was asleep, he pulled on his invisibility cloak and resolved to find the mirror again.
He had no idea where the mirror was located. His best option, he decided, was to head back to
the third floor corridor and attempt to follow the same route he had when he was running
from the dog. He silently made his way toward the forbidden corridor, again careful to avoid
any of the castle's other inhabitants.
His heart began racing as he saw another person exit the corridor. Professor Quirrell walked
briskly through the passageway and toward Harry, with a smirk Harry had never before
observed on the man plastered on his face. Fortunately, he seemed to be distracted and did
not notice Harry as he approached him. As he passed, Harry heard him say, "My Master, we
will retrieve the Stone tomorrow night." The exaggerated stutter was conspicuously absent.
Early the next morning, Harry and Hermione were deep in conversation regarding what Harry
had heard the night before.
"Harry, we have to tell Professor Flitwick," Hermione urged.
"Okay," Harry relented, "But I don't expect him to believe us."
"Professor Flitwick," Hermione yelled as they entered his office without knocking, "We need to
tell you something."
"What is it, Miss Granger?" he asked politely.
"Professor Quirrell's going to steal the Philosopher's Stone!"
The Professor paled at the mention of the Stone. "You two never cease to amaze me. A credit
to the House, both of you. I am most impressed you managed to find out about the Stone, but
I assure you, it is quite safe. Professor Quirrell is a trusted member of the faculty."
Harry nodded resignedly. "Would it be possible for us to speak with Professor Dumbledore?"
"I'm afraid not, my boy. He was called away by the Minister, and is not expected back until
much later."
"Thank you for your time, professor," they intoned, admitting defeat on this front, but refusing
to let the matter rest.
As they left Flitwick's office, Harry looked at Hermione determinedly. "If they won't help us,
we'll stop Quirrell by ourselves. Are you with me?"
"Always."
"We can't beat Quirrell in a fair fight, especially if his Master is who I believe he is," Harry
said, rubbing his hand through his hair.
"There's no reason to fight fair, then," she said simply, and Harry grinned at her.
"Hermione, have you ever seen an invisibility cloak?"
Harry and Hermione had been waiting, under his invisibility cloak, in the forbidden corridor
since early in the afternoon. They had taken a light lunch, both too nervous to eat much. They
had both skipped their afternoon Herbology class, as they agreed stopping Quirrell was more
important.
Their emotions had shifted several times throughout the stakeout. At first, it had been
exhilarating. They were working together, with no other help, to stop the bad guy. After
waiting for an hour, with nothing happening, the exhilaration had turned to boredom. They
knew Quirrell would not be coming until night, but got there as early as they could to make
sure there were no mistakes. As more time passed, the boredom changed to fear. They knew
this was risky; they were facing a fully trained wizard who had tricked the entire castle,
including Albus Dumbledore, into believing him to be an incompetent fool for an entire year. If
anything went wrong, they would surely be killed.
After what felt like weeks, they finally heard noise coming from the front of the corridor.
Quirrell, trailed by a levitated harp, stalked down the corridor in the direction of the room
housing the three-headed dog. As Quirrell stopped to unlock the door, Harry and Hermione
threw off the invisibility cloak and shouted, "Stupefy!" The two stunners hit Quirrell in the back
before he was able to react, sending the man crashing headlong into the door.
Harry quickly moved forward and pointed his wand at the unconscious Defense professor.
"Incarcerous!" he yelled, and thick ropes wrapped themselves around the man. He stepped
forward and removed Quirrell's wand from his unmoving hand.
Harry turned to Hermione. "Go find Professor Snape. He's the only one who never trusted
Quirrell."
Hermione pulled Harry into a quick embrace before sprinting down the corridor and to the
dungeons to find the Potions Master.
Harry stood over the man after Hermione had left, and decided that he needed some answers.
Using his foot, he rolled Quirrell onto his back and revived him. He sputtered as he regained
consciousness.
"P…P…Potter? What's th… th… the meaning of this?"
"Drop the act, Quirrell. Why were you trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"
He growled as he realized he had been beaten, "Very well, Potter. You are too precocious for
your own good."
"My own good, Professor? It seems you're the one tied up on the floor. You're going to answer
a few questions for me."
"What makes you think I'll answer anything?"
"It's simple, really," Harry said, smirking, "You will answer my questions or die."
Quirrell laughed patronizingly. "You don't even know the curse, Potter."
Harry placed his wand in his pocket and stooped down next to the professor. He whispered
directly into the man's ear, "Avada Kedavra."
Quirrell gasped, but remained defiant. "Mere words, boy. Say them all you like, but you'll
accomplish nothing.
"For once, we are in agreement." Quirrell smirked, and Harry pointed his wand at the door to
the room with the three-headed dog. "Alohomora!"
Quirrell's grin turned feral. "Going after the Stone yourself, are you Potter?"
"I shall ask once more: Why did you try to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"
Quirrell remained silent, and Harry grinned at him viciously. He slowly pushed the door open,
and a loud growl emanated from the room. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry shouted, and the
bound professor was lifted a foot off the ground. He screamed as Harry directed him through
the door with his wand.
"I'll talk, Potter! I was taking the Stone for my Master, Lord Volde," Quirrell started, before
bursting into flames as a vapor drifted out from his turban and disappeared.
Harry doused the burning man with water, but was far too late. Only ashes remained.
Severus Snape was a confused man. He was currently sprinting after Hermione Granger to the
forbidden corridor, where she and Harry Potter had detained Professor Quirrell and prevented
the theft of the Philosopher's Stone. He had never trusted the man, but the situation was a
bizarre one. How did two students find out about the Stone?
He ran into the corridor just in time to witness the man burst into flames and a spirit depart
from his body. He felt a sharp pain on his left forearm, and things clicked into place. Quirrell
had been possessed by the Dark Lord, and was trying to steal the Stone to revive his Master.
Snape had long suspected that Quirrell was trying to steal the Stone. He just had not known
why.
Somehow, Potter had managed to stop him. Truthfully, the boy had grown on him throughout
the course of the year. He was a talented brewer, and reminded Snape a great deal of Lily. He
rushed forward to pull him away from the ashes of the former Defense Professor. "Mr. Potter,
would you accompany me to the Headmaster's office? He has just returned from London."
Harry sat in front of the Headmaster's desk, and Dumbledore was staring at him, his eyes
twinkling merrily. "My dear boy, I am incredibly proud of your actions this evening. Based on
what Severus has told me, you managed to delay the return of Voldemort."
"Delay, sir?"
"Oh yes, I'm afraid so. Voldemort will return some day."
"I'm not surprised, really. Headmaster, what caused Quirrell to combust?"
"I believe that was the work of Voldemort. Quirrell was trying to betray him to save himself,
so Voldemort severed their connection, destroying the poor man." Dumbledore paused. "I
suppose you are quite tired, Harry. You are free to return to your dormitory."
Harry did not accept his dismissal. "I have more questions, sir. What will be done with the
Stone?"
"It must be destroyed. It is far too powerful an object to allow Voldemort to obtain."
Harry nodded his head in agreement, and silently pondered whether he should confide in the
wizened Headmaster. "Professor, earlier in the year I came across a rather extraordinary
mirror." Harry struggled internally, debating on how much he should reveal. Dumbledore
nodded his head for him to continue. "I saw my parents."
"The Mirror of Erised. You are quite correct Harry, it is indeed extraordinary. It shows us the
deepest desire of the heart."
"Would it be possible," Harry began, suddenly feeling very small, "For me to see it again?"
"I'm afraid not, Harry. I was forced to move it after discovering that another student had been
ensnared by its allure."
"Is she alright?" he asked, thinking of a Slytherin with vulnerable blue eyes.
"The mirror was removed before it could do any lasting damage. I must ask you not to search
for it. Our desires are important, but we mustn't let them consume us."
"Yes, sir."
Daphne Greengrass sat by herself at the Leaving Feast. She was the ultimate pariah, avoided
by everyone. And she would not have it any other way. The exams were over, and she had
done well, not that there was ever any doubt. The only students to match her marks were
Granger and Potter.
Harry Potter. She still was not sure how she felt about the boy, but was disgusted that he had
seen her so vulnerable, so disgustingly helpless. She had tried to avoid the mirror, but was too
weak. She had been able to resist its call for nearly three weeks after she had encountered
Potter, but felt the pull growing stronger by the day. She had returned, only to be greeted by
Dumbledore, with that damnable twinkle in his eye. He had hidden the mirror, and she had
been unable to find it again.
If the rumors were to be believed, Potter had rescued Granger by killing Quirrell in a duel. Of
course, Daphne did not put much stock in the Hogwarts rumor mill. She knew Potter had
saved the day somehow, but did not know what he had done. The massive amount of points
awarded to Ravenclaw on the day after Quirrell disappeared suggested that Potter had done
something to oust Quirrell, but the rumor seemed too farfetched.
The train ride back to London went smoothly. Harry and Hermione shared a compartment on
the train, and no one tried to force their company upon them. The two boys he had humiliated
during the train ride to Hogwarts had made a point to avoid him throughout the school year.
For that, he was thankful
Harry had said goodbye to Daphne. She grudgingly repeated the sentiment, but Harry noticed
that her frown lessened when he spoke to her, and her eyes seemed less distant. He was
determined to have a proper conversation with her next year.
Harry hugged Hermione tightly before meeting Uncle Vernon. The man seemed distinctly
uncomfortable with being in the presence of so many wizards, but he kept his opinion to
himself. He greeted Harry with cool indifference. Some things, Harry thought, never change.
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Summer did not suit Harry Potter. He had spent the past nine months at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, learning magic. He had devoted nearly all his time to his studies
during the school year, but was not allowed to use magic over the summer; at least, not in the
middle of a Muggle town. Most school children were thrilled to have time away from their
studies, but Harry Potter was bored. He had nearly memorized all his first year spellbooks, and
had not received a list of the ones he needed to purchase for second year. In short, there was
very little for him to do.
He spent most of his days wandering through Privet Drive. He had lived most of his life in
Little Whinging, but had never really explored his neighborhood. For most of his first eleven
years, he had worked to be the best in his primary school, but had lost his interest in the
Muggle World after one year at Hogwarts.
He was able to get lost in his mind during his daily explorations. He discovered a small park,
where he could sit lazily on a swing and think about his time at Hogwarts. After his adventure
at the end of the year, most of the students started to think of him as powerful. Truthfully, he
reveled in the respect, but knew it was not entirely earned. He was not as powerful as they
believed. Not yet.
Perhaps the worst part of summer was the lack of post. He had not expected many people to
write to him, but had hoped to see letters from Hermione. She had, after all, promised to write
every day. He had written to her daily for the first week of the holidays, but his letters had
gone unanswered. He had not yet received a single thing.
His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were the same as always, but his Cousin Dudley had gone
out of his way to avoid him. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen him
this summer. Apparently, Dudley did not support the prospect of training Harry to better
defend himself.
Harry awoke early on the morning of his birthday. He did not expect the day to be anything
other than normal, but had trouble staying asleep regardless. He supposed it was only natural
for a twelve-year-old to be excited about his birthday.
He took breakfast with his relatives, and was not surprised when they failed to even speak to
him. Dudley avoided making eye contact with him, apparently working under the assumption
that looking into his eyes would prove to be fatal, and rushed away from the table after
finishing his meal.
Harry could not help but wonder what today would have been like had his parents not been
murdered. In his mind, he saw images of a cake and presents stacked high on a table. He
imagined the warm embrace of his mother and his father patting him on the back in pride.
His reverie was interrupted by the telephone's ring. Uncle Vernon rose from the table
grumbling something under his breath about salesmen. "Dursley residence," he said, forgoing
any pleasantries. Vernon's face showed his confusion at their response. He pointed at Harry.
"For you," he said gruffly.
Harry rose to his feet and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Happy birthday, Harry!" He recognized the voice immediately. "It's Hermione. I found your
relatives' phone number in the White Pages. Where have you been? Why did you stop writing
me back?" she asked, going into rapid fire question mode. It was something she often
practiced in class.
Harry chuckled softly at his best friend's enthusiasm. "Thanks, Hermione. I've been here at
Privet Drive all summer. I stopped writing after a week when you hadn't sent me anything."
Hermione paused before answering, "But I have been writing you, Harry. Every day."
"I haven't gotten any post since I came back to Privet Drive."
"Someone must be intercepting everything. I sent you a copy of Charms for the Contemporary
Duelist, but I doubt you'll get it now," she said, suddenly upset.
"It's alright, Hermione. It's not your fault," he admonished.
The conversation became more pleasant after that, and they spent the next few minutes
talking about their holidays, until Harry saw that his Uncle was waiting impatiently for him to
finish. "Hermione, is there a way for me to get to Diagon Alley? My relatives don't have a Floo
connection."
"Well, you could take the Knight Bus. I read about it in the package they give to all the
Muggleborns. You just need to hold your wand in the air to call for it."
"Alright." Harry took another look at his Uncle who had begun tapping his foot. "I'm glad you
called, Hermione, but I've got to go."
"Okay. Call me sometime, Harry. Goodbye."
"Bye, Hermione."
After ending his call with Hermione, Harry decided to take a walk around the neighborhood to
clear his head. The idea of someone stealing his post frustrated him more than he cared to
admit.
As he moved toward the swing he had been frequenting this summer, he heard someone
hissing at him, seemingly from the ground. "Get out of my way, human."
Harry turned around, trying to find the person who spoke. He looked down, and saw a small,
green snake slithering over the grass. "Are you speaking to me, little one?" he asked
curiously.
The snake paused and raised its head, looking almost perplexed. "You speak the language of
the serpents?"
Harry considered this for a moment before coming to his conclusion, "Well, I am talking with
you now," he reasoned, "So yes, I suppose I do. Is that unusual?"
"Very. You are the first Speaker I have encountered." Harry's eyebrows rose as he
contemplated the implications. This was another rare talent he possessed, and he decided to
do some research on it when he returned to Hogwarts. Was it possible that he truly was
worthy of pride and respect? And someday, perhaps, even love? "You will be great, young
human."
Harry walked back to his Aunt and Uncle's home in the afternoon, with the snake's words still
reverberating in his head. It was the first time he could recall being told that he was on his
way to greatness. He was often praised for his work, but he had never before been given such
an assurance. He was thrilled by the reptile's faith in him.
As he stepped over the threshold and into Number Four, his Uncle addressed him, "Harry, we
need you out of the house tonight. Your Aunt and I are entertaining some potential clients,
and they don't know about your-" he hesitated, "condition."
"Could I not stay in my room for the evening?"
"Well, yes, I suppose you could, but you've already skipped lunch. We're paid to keep you fed,
and we've always held up our end of the bargain. Take this," Vernon handed him a ten pound
note, "and find something to eat. There's a pub a few streets over."
Harry could not help but be upset with his Uncle. The man had almost seemed concerned for
his wellbeing, until he had admitted that he was just honoring his part of a business
transaction. Harry made for the door, wand in hand, ready to flag down the Knight Bus for a
trip to London.
Harry emerged from the bus, slightly worse for wear after the nausea inducing journey, and
walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He recognized the barman from his previous trip to Diagon
Alley with Hagrid, and the barman obviously reciprocated his recognition. "Harry Potter," he
said, looking up from the glass he had been rubbing with a rag.
"Evening, Tom."
"What brings you here tonight, Mr. Potter?"
"I need some dinner and a room for the night." Harry did not particularly want to see the
Dursleys again tonight. Besides, he would be free to practice magic in a room at the Leaky
Cauldron. He had done a great deal of reading on the enforcement of the Decree for the
Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. As he understood it, the Ministry did not monitor
individuals, but areas, and left it up for magical parents to enforce the law. A room in the inn
would not be under such supervision.
Harry found the shepherd's pie he had for dinner to be very satisfying. It was easily the best
meal he had taken since the end of term at Hogwarts. His relatives always provided him with
enough to eat, but his Aunt was not a talented cook. The food was always there, but it lacked
in flavor.
He decided to make the most of his night away from Privet Drive and explore Diagon Alley
without the presence of an observer. He found himself mesmerized by the Alley after dark.
Cascades of magnified candlelight from shop windows illuminated the cobblestones in an
almost ethereal glow. Passing witches and wizards cast shadows in the light from the
storefronts and the crescent moon overhead. The white marble walls of Gringotts seemed to
shine in the dark.
The exuberant crowds that graced the Alley during the day were replaced by cloaked
individuals who rushed past each other and did not exchange pleasantries. As Harry
approached a seedier looking Alley that connected with Diagon, he heard the drawl of
someone walking behind him, "Heading for Knockturn, eh Potter? What could the Golden Boy
be looking for in there?" Harry turned to see the sneering face of Draco Malfoy. So, this was
Knockturn Alley. He had expected it to look more… evil, but this was just shabby.
"What's the matter, Draco? Won't daddy let you shop at Borgin and Burkes yet?"
"For your information, Potter, my father purchased me a rather exquisite piece from Mr.
Borgin earlier this week."
"I'm glad to see he's getting you started in the Dark Arts at a young age. Does he ever let you
wear his old Death Eater mask?"
Draco scowled and reached for his wand. "At least I don't live with a pair of common Muggles.
They should be put down, the lot of them."
Harry reached for his wand, not in anger at Draco's remark about his relatives, for he was too
upset with the Dursleys to defend their honor, but in response to Draco drawing his own. He
pointed at the other boy's wand. "Put that away, Malfoy, before you hurt yourself."
Draco's face contorted in rage and he leveled his wand at Harry's chest. He lowered it almost
immediately as another voice drawled, in a fashion that Harry found to be eerily similar to
Draco's, "Now, now, Draco. It would be unwise to be seen attacking our… Saviour."
"Yes, father," he said as he stowed his wand.
The elder Malfoy addressed Harry, "My apologies, Mr. Potter." His gaze shifted to Draco, "My
son seems to have forgotten his station."
Harry nodded at the older man, and he grabbed his son's shoulder roughly and led him into
Knockturn Alley.
Harry was quite contented when he retired for the evening. He had purchased a book on
advanced Charms from Flourish and Blotts and a delectable sundae from Fortescue's. He sat
on the bed in his room at the Leaky Cauldron reading through his new book, and preparing to
try some of the spells. A loud cracking sound from the foot of his bed caught his attention. He
looked up from the text and saw a… house elf?
"Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is glad to be finding you."
"What are you doing here?" he asked, more curious than alarmed.
"Harry Potter sir is a great wizard, and must not be getting hurt. Dobby is here to be warning
you."
His curiosity piqued, he asked, "Warning me about what?"
Dobby looked remorseful. "Harry Potter must not be returning to Hogwarts."
"Why shouldn't I return to Hogwarts, Dobby?"
"Dobby cannot say. Harry Potter must be trusting Dobby that Hogwarts will be too dangerous
this year."
"I do trust you, Dobby. In fact, I'd be surprised if nothing dangerous happened, especially with
Voldemort trying to return. But I have to go back."
Dobby appeared to be on the verge of tears, "No, Harry Potter, sir-"
"I have to learn how to defend myself and my friends, Dobby," he interrupted. "I can learn the
most at Hogwarts."
"Harry Potter is great to be protecting friends who do not write to him."
"Ah," Harry said as something fell into place. "It was you. Give me the letters, Dobby."
Dobby pulled a stack of letters and a package from his pillowcase. "Does Harry Potter agree
not to be returning to Hogwarts?"
Harry pointed his wand at the stack of parchment. "Accio." The letters and package he
assumed to be the book Hermione had sent him for his birthday zoomed into his outstretched
hands. "I'm going back to Hogwarts, Dobby."
A sad smile crossed the elf's face, "Dobby will be stopping you," he said simply. With another
cracking sound, he disappeared.
Daphne loved the summer, because it allowed her to be alone, wholly and unequivocally
alone. She was usually alone at school, but in her bedroom at home, with the door tightly
locked, she did not have to worry about the presence of anyone else. She was free from the
playacting of Draco Malfoy and the love-struck simpering of Pansy Parkinson
She was able to continue practicing magic over the summer. Her parents did not know she
was doing it, and probably would have been disinclined to say anything about it if they had
known. It was one of the few perks of living with disinterested parents.
Her annual shopping trip to Diagon Alley occurred near the end of the summer, when she
finally received her booklist. She flooed into the Leaky Cauldron by herself; she supposed that
her sister would ask to accompany her next year, but she would deal with that problem when
the time came. Her father had given her just enough money to purchase her supplies. She did
not have to make secondhand purchases, but could not afford anything superfluous.
Her first stop would be the bookstore, but not because she was looking forward to the trip. On
the contrary, she felt compelled to get it over with if she was to have any chance at enjoying
the rest of her day. Gilderoy Lockhart, fraudulent author extraordinaire, was having a book
signing, and she was required to purchase everything the man had ever written for Defense
Against the Dark Arts. When she first looked at the booklist, her hopes for a satisfactory year
in Defense were squashed; no competent instructor would assign anything written by
Lockhart.
She briefly considered hexing the people who were waiting in line to get their books
autographed. If they were obtuse enough to believe that Lockhart was anything more than a
pretty face, they would not put up much of a fight. She wondered how they would react to
seeing their hero apparate away with his tail between his legs.
The man behind the counter was shooting Lockhart the occasional reproachful glare. He did
not appreciate that his shop was even selling the man's books, let alone providing him with a
venue to smile for the cameras. Daphne decided to place her order with him, rather than
dealing with any of Lockhart's sycophants.
As the man was finding her books, she noticed a commotion breaking out in the front of the
store. Two men, she recognized one of them as Lucius Malfoy, had apparently forgotten they
were wizards and were exchanging blows with their fists. A gaggle of redheaded children
surrounded the other man, seemingly shouting their encouragement, though she could not
make out what they were saying because of the noise within the shop. She recognized some
of the children and guessed that the man fighting Lucius must be the Weasley patriarch.
When the men were separated, Lucius sneered at the other man, and picked the books out of
the Weasley daughter's cauldron. He stared at them in disgust and said something to the
Weasleys with the smirk still on his face. He threw the books back in the cauldron, but he
attempted to conceal something. Daphne noticed that he had added another, nondescript old
book to the stack. It did not appear to be anything dark, but was probably potentially
embarrassing for the Weasleys. She decided not to say anything about the book; she saw no
reason to help the Weasleys. The twins were notorious pranksters who terrorized Slytherin
House, and the younger son was not a pleasant individual. Besides, she did not want to make
an enemy of Lucius Malfoy if she could avoid it. She would keep her eyes out for the book at
Hogwarts, but would not tell the girl about it.
She paid for her books, and was grateful to leave the shop. She quickened her pace and
looked down at the ground as she passed the Weasleys and Malfoys, avoiding eye contact with
all of them. She did not even notice a boy entering the store until she collided with him. She
felt herself teeter and began to fall backward. Moments before her arse hit the floor, a pair of
arms wrapped around her waist and stabilized her. She glared and prepared to berate the
person who had been so careless, until she looked up and saw who it was. Harry Potter. She
had been thinking about Harry Potter, thinking about him a lot, actually. But there was no
reason to let him know that. "You can let go of me now, Potter."
Harry blushed, and lowered his arms from her waist, before deftly attempting to change the
subject. "Good holiday, Greengrass?" He would prefer to call her Daphne, but that could wait
until she stopped calling him Potter.
"Until you ran into me." She tried to look angry, but her voice lacked venom.
"That hurts," he said in mock indignation as he clutched his chest.
Daphne was barely able to conceal a grin. "It'll hurt more when I hex you for running into
me."
"You wouldn't hex a friend," he said confidently.
Daphne considered that for a moment. The part of her that desperately wanted to agree with
him was outspoken by the part that had decided to never have any friends. "You may be right
about that. But I'd definitely hex you, Potter."
Harry chuckled as he walked into Flourish and Blotts. "Whatever you say, Greengrass.
Whatever you say."
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Harry arrived at King's Cross Station with time to spare. His Uncle had discovered the Knight
Bus, and refused to provide him with transportation, knowing that his nephew could get there
on his own. Harry did not particularly mind; it merely served as another reminder that his
relatives did not give a damn about him. As he approached his platform, he spotted the
familiar black tresses of Daphne Greengrass walking in front of him. "Hey, Greengrass," he
called.
She, of course, recognized the voice immediately. Struggling to maintain a stoic expression,
she turned around to greet him. "You seem to have a talent for finding yourself in the same
place as me, Potter." She remained still as Harry walked toward her.
He smirked, "Well, you see, there's a train here that a few of us are meant to catch. If I'm not
mistaken, both of us are among that group, so it stands to reason we'd be in the same place."
Daphne scowled at him, "A Ravenclaw's attempt at wit?"
He attempted to look innocent. "Wit? Me? I think not." He caught up with her and they began
walking toward the platform side by side.
"Ladies first," Harry said, gesturing for her to walk through the barrier.
She raised an eyebrow. "After you, then."
Harry grinned briefly before heading toward the barrier at a brisk pace. He sped up as he
neared the illusionary brick wall, trying to pass through it as quickly as possible. Even after a
year in the magical world, the prospect of walking through a seemingly solid wall was not
alluring.
Crash!
Harry's trolley collided with the non-illusionary, entirely corporeal brick wall, and he was
knocked backward. The absurdity of the situation caused him to grin as he was falling. He
imagined trying to explain this situation to a Muggle. I fell because I walked into a wall. Don't
look at me like that! The wall was supposed to be an illusion. He braced himself for impact,
but was caught, at the last moment, by a pair of small arms.
He grinned and waited a moment before saying, "Thanks, Greengrass, but you can let go
now."
She complied immediately, and he turned around in time to see her shrug. He heard her
mutter something that sounded like, "Should've let him fall."
"Why do you reckon it wouldn't let me through?"
"Maybe you were expelled for being such a git," she mused as she approached the barrier.
She reached out one hand and felt the solid brick and mortar. "Someone's sealed the
platform. This is an impressive piece of spellwork."
Neither of them noticed the two approaching Gryffindors. "Oi! Greengrass says someone
sealed the platform," yelled Ron Weasley as he approached the barrier, Seamus Finnigan
trailing behind him.
"She's a Slytherin, mate. She's lying," the Irishman responded.
"Only one way to find out, eh Seamus?"
Seamus shrugged noncommittally, but Ron had already started sprinting toward the wall.
Harry began to wonder how he had looked when he had collided with the barrier, but was
interrupted from his thoughts by the sickening crunch of metal hitting brick. He looked down
and saw Ron Weasley doubled up on the ground, clutching his stomach where the steel handle
of his trolley had imprinted itself. Seamus laughed uproariously while Daphne looked on with
distaste.
After a few moments, Ron was able to stand. "Where's the rest of your brood, Weasley?"
asked Daphne.
"Already," he gasped out with a ragged breath, "On the platform."
"How're we going to get on there, mate?" asked Seamus.
Ron's pained face brightened. "We'll take the car. Mum and dad can apparate home."
Seamus' eyes widened. "Have you ever flown it?"
"Nah. How hard can it be?" He looked at Harry and Daphne. "Either of you fancy a ride in a
flying car?"
"What do you think, Harry?" Daphne asked, looking mischievous.
Harry was momentarily taken aback by the use of his first name, but decided to play along.
"That doesn't seem like a terribly foolish idea at all. Want to try it, Daphne?"
Daphne had a look of false excitement plastered on her face. "We'll do it," her eyes hardened,
"When Voldemort comes back and starts asking people to call him Keisha. You can't possibly
be thick enough to fly an enchanted car all the way to Scotland," she said, her voice laced with
genuine disbelief.
Ron's face reddened and he grumbled something about "showing them" and "being a real
Gryffindor." He turned to Seamus and asked, "Are you with me, mate?"
"You can count me in." The two of them nodded their heads defiantly as they strode out of the
station.
Harry and Daphne walked to the other end of the station to find an empty bench. After both of
them were seated, Harry said, "I suppose I should send a message to Dumbledore."
She smiled a genuine smile for the first time in Harry's presence. "Either that or enchant a
lorry. If we hurry, we can still catch Weasley. "
Harry laughed as he found a scrap of parchment and quill, and began to write.
Professor Dumbledore,
Your assistance is required at King's Cross Station. The barrier to Platform 9 ¾ has been
sealed, preventing us from boarding the Express.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter & Daphne Greengrass
P.S. Look out for Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnigan. They plan to make an impressive
entrance.
Harry read the letter again before giving it to Hedwig. He turned his head to look at Daphne
who was sitting beside him on the bench.
"Don't get too used to my company, Potter." Harry could not tell if she was joking.
"You called me Harry. When Ron and Seamus were here," he said, wondering if it had been a
slip of the tongue.
"Of course I did. Calling you 'Potter' in front of them would have put you on the same level. It
would have suggested that I hold you in the same regard as them. I don't."
"You don't?" he asked, hating that the answer to such a simple question had the potential to
hurt him so much.
"No," she said sincerely, with her eyes softening, "Not even close."
He smirked. "That's a relief," he joked, trying to mask how relieved he really was at her
reassurance.
She smiled. "You should know," she said, "That my company is not cheap. It's going to cost
you."
Harry returned her smile, truly grateful for the pleasant conversation. "Name your price,
milady."
"How about a story?"
"Any story in particular?"
Her smile turned coy. "The story of what happened between you and Quirrell last year, I think.
Yes, that would do nicely."
Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair- he had not told anyone about this since he
had spoken to Dumbledore. "Have you ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone?"
He spent the next few minutes recounting his adventure from the previous year, telling her
the unembellished truth. Daphne was a very good listener. She was attentive, and asked
questions at the correct times. Harry was glad to have finally shared his story with a peer.
As Harry told her of his exploits, neither of them noticed as scores of young witches and
wizards successfully passed through the barrier. By the time he was finished, the train had
departed and they were the only ones left waiting.
Albus Dumbledore arrived at King's Cross Station with a loud pop, and strode purposefully
toward two of his students. He had cast several Muggle repelling charms on himself before he
apparated to the station; he had been told several times that he was incapable of blending in
with the non-magical population, and saw no reason to attract any unnecessary attention to
the situation.
He had already examined the barrier, and had been able to pass through it, though he had
been able to detect a magical disturbance of some sort. He knew that all the other students
had successfully boarded the train, excepting Harry, Daphne, and two second year
Gryffindors.
He had a theory concerning the magic surrounding the barrier, and his theories usually proved
to be correct.
"Harry, my boy," he said smiling jovially, "And Miss Greengrass. It's a pleasure to see you
both."
"Headmaster," they intoned.
"I believe I know what the problem is. If you'll both follow me," he paused, and allowed them
to gather their belongings before walking to the barrier, "We can get to the bottom of this.
Harry, would you please stand behind me?" Harry nodded his head, and moved behind his
Headmaster. Dumbledore extended his arm, and reached out to touch solid brick. "It is as I
suspected. The gate is sealed only when you are nearby, my boy."
"Can you fix it?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled sagely as he waved his wand at the barrier in an intricate pattern. A
stream of blue light emitted from the tip, and Dumbledore lowered his arm. "It was a very
nice bit of magic- cast by a house elf, I believe."
So, that bloody elf is actually trying to keep me away from Hogwarts, Harry thought. Insane,
that one.
Dumbledore ushered both of them onto the platform, where Harry immediately noticed the
absence of the scarlet steam engine. "Professor, when did the train leave?"
"The train has been gone for quite some time, Harry. I shall be bringing you both to Hogwarts,
myself."
"Are we going to be side-along apparating, sir?" asked Daphne, somewhat apprehensively.
Dumbledore chuckled, "Indeed. If you'll each grab my arm," he said, extending his left arm.
Harry and Daphne shared a look, before he grabbed the old man's arm and disappeared from
the platform with a harsh pop.
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Apparition, Harry decided, was something he needed to learn. The sensation of being
squeezed through a tube was far from pleasant, but it was certainly a useful skill. Harry
chuckled as he imagined how the Dursleys would react if he apparated directly into their living
room. He suspected that at least one of them would faint, and his money was on it being
Dudley. On top of using apparition to frighten his relatives, the ability to travel long distances
instantaneously was incredibly convenient. The Knight Bus always made him queasy.
Dumbledore apparated Harry and Daphne to the front gates, since apparition inside the
grounds was not possible. The school house elves had already taken their trunks to their
respective dormitories. When they arrived, the sun was still high overhead, and the Hogwarts
Express would not get there for hours. They were the only students at Hogwarts.
Professor Dumbledore led the way to the castle. As Harry fell in line behind him, Daphne
grabbed him by the arm and held him back. "Will you do me a favor, Potter?" she whispered.
Harry took one look at her pleading blue eyes, and felt compelled to help her. He nodded his
head, asking, "What do you need, Greengrass?"
"When we get back to the castle, I need you to keep Dumbledore occupied. There's something
in the castle," she paused, thinking about the Mirror of Erised, "Something I need to find. I
won't be able to do that with him watching over me."
He sighed, knowing exactly what Daphne planned on finding, before nodding again. "I can do
that. But Greengrass?"
"What?"
"Be careful, yeah?"
She smirked. "Always."
Daphne lagged behind Harry as they followed Dumbledore inside the castle.
Dumbledore looked at his students and smiled knowingly. "Harry, would you accompany me to
my office?" he asked.
Harry nodded his head and followed the Headmaster. When they arrived at the gargoyle,
Harry turned his head and noticed that Daphne had left the group at some point during the
walk.
Harry took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. He inspected the room, and was impressed
with all the delicate looking magical instruments. He noticed a magnificent bird perched near
the desk. "How long have you had a phoenix?"
"One does not own a phoenix, Harry. I have enjoyed Fawkes' company since I was a young
man." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked down at him, before taking a seat himself.
"Did Miss Greengrass specify how long you were to keep me occupied?"
Harry's eyes widened, and he stammered, "Sir, I don't know-"
"Of course you do, my dear boy, though I am curious about one aspect of your plan. How had
you planned to keep me distracted?"
"Well, I," he began, "I was going to make it up as I went along. I probably would have asked
you some questions about yourself, perhaps about Nicholas Flamel or Grindelwald."
Dumbledore smiled at him. "Simply ingenious, Harry. Relying on my tendency to be rather

verbose may, indeed, have worked."
"Sir, how did you know what we had planned?"
He hesitated for a moment, considering how forthcoming he should be with the young man
who sat before him. "Harry, what do you know of legilimency?"
"I've seen it mentioned in several texts, but none of them detailed it."
"Legilimency allows a wizard to view the thoughts of another wizard."
Harry was startled, and somewhat angry at the invasion of privacy. "You read my mind, sir?"
he asked, clenching his fists.
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Heavens no. Reading the mind is, technically, impossible. A
legilimens can invade the mind of another wizard, but the process is far more complex than,
say, reading a book. A more powerful legilimens can sometimes, inadvertently, see the
surface thoughts of another person when they are, for one reason or another, entirely focused
on a single issue. You and Miss Greengrass have been thinking of little other than this plot
since we arrived at the castle."
Harry's anger dissipated after hearing the explanation. "Sir, may I ask you a few questions
about that?"
"Certainly."
"If you knew about our plan all along, why did you allow Daphne to search for the Mirror of
Erised?"
"Because I have every confidence she will find it."
This confused him. "You said that it was moved last year, because it had ensnared another
student."
"Indeed I did. It was moved back after the destruction of the Philosopher's Stone. I fear it was
a mistake to remove it in the first place."
"Why is that?"
"There are some problems we must solve for ourselves, Harry. I did Miss Greengrass a
disservice by removing the Mirror last year."
Harry supposed he understood that. He had often wished for someone to help him through his
troubles, but knew that being sheltered would have made him weak. Still, he was worried.
"Will she be alright?"
Dumbledore sighed. "If she is able to come to terms with what she has lost and what she has
to gain, then yes. If not, she will be haunted by what she sees in the Mirror."
Harry frowned. "Can I help?"
The smile returned to the old man's face. "If anyone can help her, it will be you."
"I only hope she'll let me." Harry looked down in contemplation, the earlier discussion about
legilimency still on his mind. "Professor, is there a way to keep a legilimens out of your mind?"
"Indeed. Defense of the mind is an art known as occlumency."
"Is occlumency taught at Hogwarts?"
"It is not. However, if ever the need arises for you to learn the art, you will be given lessons."
Dumbledore paused. "Well, I see no reason to let Miss Greengrass know that there was a hitch
in the plan. You may ask your questions."
Harry considered this for a moment. Dumbledore, a man known to hold his cards close to his
chest, had given him permission to ask questions about his life, in an obvious attempt to
change the subject. Harry wanted to know more about occlumency, but was unwilling to let
the opportunity pass. "How did you become friends with Nicholas Flamel?"
Dumbledore beamed. He loved discussing this particular subject. "I met Nicholas during my
sixth year at Hogwarts. We corresponded regularly, and he was sufficiently impressed with my
NEWT scores to offer me an apprenticeship a few years later."
"I didn't realize he had taken any apprentices."
"I was his first in over two centuries, and he has not taken any since. When I met Nicholas, I
was talented, but inexperienced. Brilliant, but young and woefully unsure of what to do with
my ability. Nicholas was the finest teacher I ever had."
"What did he teach you?"
"Alchemy was, of course, his specialty. I became competent at the subject, but never matched
his ability. He recognized that my real talent was with a wand, and taught me everything he
knew."
"Was he especially good with a wand?" Harry asked. He had not read anything about Flamel
being a talented spellcaster.
"Few could match him. He was not as powerful as some, but had centuries of experience. We
dueled when I first became his apprentice, and I found it to be a humbling exercise. My raw
power was not enough to match his lifetime of practice. I worked with Nicholas for years, until
I finally surpassed him. The first time I defeated him in a duel, I expected him to be upset, but
I had never seen him more pleased."
"Was he training you to defeat Grindelwald?"
"Not specifically. Nicholas' age left him out of touch with the wizarding world, and he had not
been directly involved in a war in over two centuries. Most people seemed to think that I
would eventually confront Gellert, but Nicholas either did not know or did not care. He trained
me to the best of his ability, and allowed me to do what I wished with the knowledge he
imparted."
"Gellert, sir?"
Dumbledore's smile faded. "Gellert Grindelwald, Harry. My history with Gellert is somewhat
complicated."
"Might I hear it? That is, if it's not too personal."
"I suppose it would not hurt to tell you the tale. It is, by no means, a secret, but few people
have ever asked. I was a young man when I first met Gellert Grindelwald. I was the head of
my family, and bitter at the burden. He was a brilliant young exile who challenged me
intellectually. Naturally, we became the best of friends."
Harry shook his head. "Grindelwald was your best mate?"
"Indeed, but it was not to last. I am ashamed to admit it, but at the time, we shared the same
goals, though I never approved of his methods. Our friendship ended violently and abruptly.
Shortly after that, I began my apprenticeship and did not see Gellert again until our duel."
"I've heard that it was one of the greatest duels ever. Could I trouble you to tell me about it?"
Dumbledore looked contemplative. "No, I do not believe that hearing of it does it justice."
Harry frowned. "You may, however, watch it. Have you ever witnessed a Pensieve memory?"
Harry shook his head to indicate that he had not. "No time like the present," Dumbledore said,
as he raised his wand to his temple, and removed a silvery thread from his mind. He deposited
the memory in a small bowl he had placed on his desk. "Lower your head into the Pensieve,
Harry." Harry did as he was instructed, and felt himself fall into the basin. Dumbledore did not
follow him.
Harry inspected his surroundings closely. He was standing in the middle of an almost deserted
cobblestone street in some Eastern European town. Scores of onlookers had stationed
themselves in front of upper-level windows inside the houses and businesses surrounding the
alley.
In the middle of the street, two obviously powerful men were facing each other. One of them,
an auburn-haired Albus Dumbledore, had his wand held loosely at his side, and was looking
forlornly at the other. The fair-haired Gellert Grindelwald had not yet drawn his own wand,
and stared at Dumbledore pleadingly.
"You do not have to do this, Albus. Join me, and we shall be unstoppable," Grindelwald
whispered.
"I cannot do that, Gellert, but it is not too late for you. Abandon your path- I will help you,"
Dumbledore answered, also at a whisper.
Grindelwald slowly withdrew his own wand, though he did not point it at Dumbledore. "How
did it come to this, dear friend?"
"Perhaps, if our prior confrontation had not ended so tragically-"
"One of my few actual regrets. I am truly sorry about your sister." Grindelwald did, indeed,
look remorseful.
"I do not even know who cast the curse. It would be easy enough to determine, but I cannot
bring myself to do it."
"The blame is mine, Albus. Regardless of who cast the curse that killed her, I started the
whole messy affair. Can you forgive me?"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "You are forgiven, my friend."
"It appears that this can be delayed no further." Grindelwald raised his wand, and bowed in
respect to both the power of the man in front of him, and the friendship they had once shared.
"You are, as is so often the case, correct." Dumbledore raised his own wand, and bowed for
the same reasons Grindelwald had.
"I do wonder how this duel will turn out. You, with years of tutelage under Nicholas Flamel-"
he began
"And you, master of the Elder Wand-" Dumbledore interrupted.
"Locked in combat." Grindelwald finished verbalizing the thought. He almost laughed at the
synchronization of their thoughts, even after so many years…
Both men looked regretful as they began exchanging spells. A thin stream of golden light
emitted from the tip of Dumbledore's wand, but was parried by Grindelwald, who returned fire
immediately. A purple vortex erupted from Grindelwald's wand and appeared to consume
Dumbledore, but the auburn-haired wizard had already disappeared.
Grindelwald turned and dove to his left, his wand already moving with his next curse, narrowly
avoiding a beam of red light. Dumbledore gracefully sidestepped the return fire, avoiding the
curse with practiced ease.
Grindelwald quickly regained his footing and cast a shimmering blue shield which absorbed
Dumbledore's onslaught. He cast a Reductor that missed to Grindelwald's right, and pulverized
the front of an apothecary. Dumbledore quickly repositioned himself so that Grindelwald
turned his back on the wreckage.
Grindelwald strained his ears, but was unable to hear his opponent utter, "Accio!" He realized
Dumbledore's plan a second too late. When the half ton of brick and mortar collided with his
back, he knew that his old friend's Reductor had struck its target cleanly. He should have
known that Albus would not miss his mark by such a substantial amount.
Grindelwald was buried under the pile of rubble, and knowing that he had only seconds to act,
banished the debris at Dumbledore, who, with a deft flick of his wand, disintegrated it before it
made contact.
Grindelwald rose to his feet and quickly healed his back, temporarily mending the broken
bones, before launching an assault of his own. A rainbow of lights cascaded from his wand,
but Dumbledore quickly erected his own shield which intercepted Grindelwald's curses.
Harry watched the battle in amazement. The two most powerful men of their generation
exchanged spells for nearly a quarter of an hour. His eyes widened, as he witnessed the men
display God-like power. What impressed him the most was that neither man was aiming to kill
the other. Whether this was out of a mutual respect, or desire for a more competitive duel, it
made things much more interesting to watch.
While both men were masterful duelists, Grindelwald was clearly outmatched. Dumbledore
moved effortlessly, and cast spells of a magnitude Harry had never seen with practiced ease.
Grindelwald struggled to maintain Dumbledore's pace, was unable to repel his onslaughts for
an extended period of time.
Dumbledore was covered in sweat, but otherwise looked no worse for wear. Grindelwald
stood, bloodied and broken, but defiant in the face of defeat.
"Please, Gellert, repent," Dumbledore begged.
"It is far too late for that, Albus," he said, regretting the mistakes of his past. He raised his
wand to strike again, but Dumbledore acted too quickly. A rope of flame wrapped around
Grindelwald's arm, snapping it to his side and searing through his robe into his flesh.
Grindelwald cried out in pain as he dropped his wand and collapsed to the ground, writhing in
agony.
Loud cheers erupted from the buildings surrounding the street. The damage done to the
adjacent area would take a great deal of time and effort to repair, and the scene of
Grindelwald's defeat would become a protected historical site in the future.
Tears streamed down Dumbledore's cheeks as he collected the dropped wand, inspecting it
briefly before pocketing it. The Elder Wand, Harry remembered. He looked down at the prone
form of his former friend sadly, and canceled the rope of flame surrounding him before binding
him with magical chains.
The memory ended abruptly, and Harry felt himself withdraw from the Pensieve. He found
himself in the familiar office of Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. The Headmaster appeared not to have moved since Harry began watching his
memory. "That was magnificent, sir."
"One of the proudest and worst moments of my life."
"You still care about him, don't you sir?"
"Indeed I do."
"What happened to him after your duel?"
"He was placed in Nurmengard, a prison he himself built, and remains there to this day."
"Have you ever visited him?"
Dumbledore frowned. "I have not. I decided many years ago to remember him as the boy he
once was rather than the evil he became, and seeing him in his cell would serve to shatter
that illusion."
Harry nodded his head. "Would you like to talk about what I watched?" He had many
questions about what he had witnessed. He would like to know about Dumbledore's family and
the curious wand which Harry realized was still wielded by the Headmaster.
"Perhaps another time, Harry. It has already been a long day, and the other students will be
arriving shortly, I believe. If you do not mind, I will accompany you to the Great Hall."
"Yes sir." Harry rose and followed Dumbledore out of his office. "Professor, will you teach me
to duel like that?"
"I think so, yes. But that will not come until you have advanced in the subject. In the
meantime, you should practice the art with another member of the faculty. Filius has my
recommendation. He was a master duelist in his day, and is rather fond of you."
Harry smiled in satisfaction at the thought of dueling like Dumbledore. His respect for the man
had increased substantially after witnessing the duel that made him famous.
He walked into the Great Hall as the mass of students entered from the other side. He made
his way to the Ravenclaw table and was immediately caught in a tight embrace. "Where were
you, Harry?" Hermione asked frenziedly.
"Calm down, Hermione," he said softly. "A house elf sealed the barrier against me, and I
couldn't get on the train. Daphne and I apparated here with Dumbledore."
Hermione seemed to freeze after hearing that. She had so many questions to ask, but the first
she asked would be the scholarly one. "How did you apparate here?"
"Dumbledore took us side-along. I plan to learn as soon as I'm able." Seeing Dumbledore
apparate to avoid Grindelwald's attacks had strengthened Harry's resolve to learn the skill.
"Why did a house elf seal the barrier against you?"

"He thinks that I'm in danger at Hogwarts," Harry chuckled. "Come to think of it, maybe he
meant I'd suffocate from one of your hugs." Hermione blushed and released him, allowing
them to take their seats.
"What kind of danger?"
"He didn't specify, but I doubt Voldemort's possessed our new Defense professor. He'd
probably end up Cruciating Lockhart."
Hermione was not entirely satisfied with his answer, but moved on to her last question. "Who
is this girl you apparated here with?"
"Daphne Greengrass. She's a Slytherin in our year."
Hermione frowned, "Be careful around her, Harry. From what I hear, most of the Slytherins in
our year are afraid of her."
Truthfully, Harry was not surprised to hear that. Daphne was a bit abrasive, and he suspected
that it would not take much to get her to start hexing. He could easily see people like Draco
Malfoy becoming the targets of her wrath. But Harry knew that there was much more to
Daphne Greengrass than the cold, distant witch she appeared to be in public. He had seen
glimpses of what was beneath her frosty exterior, and hoped to get to know her better.
He looked over at the Slytherin table and saw her sitting alone. When she saw that he was
looking at her, she nodded her head lightly, indicating that she had found the Mirror. Harry
returned the gesture to let her know he had experienced no problems with his diversion. Like
Dumbledore said, there was no reason to let her know he had discovered their plan.
Harry looked back at Hermione and saw that she had been impatiently waiting his response.
"Don't worry, Hermione. You know I'll be careful, but I don't think I need to worry about
Daphne."
Hermione nodded, accepting his answer. She had never met the Slytherin girl, but she trusted
Harry's judgment.
The doors to the Great Hall opened quietly, as if the person opening them hoped to enter
without being noticed. Harry examined the person as they walked across the threshold and
dashed toward the Head Table. She was a rather ordinary looking Slytherin Prefect, who was
looking directly at Snape as she approached him.
She began whispering urgently to her head of house. When she finished speaking, Snape
smirked maliciously and strode out of the Hall, his black robes billowing behind him.
"What was that about?" Hermione asked.
Harry grinned as the first years entered the Hall to be Sorted. "I'll tell you during the Feast."
So, Weasley's flight has concluded, Harry thought, I hope he had a pleasant trip.
The Sorting was relatively uneventful. A few new Ravenclaws joined the table, sitting relatively
close to Harry. He did not care for the majority of his House, and doubted the new members
would be any different. Most of the Ravenclaws were scholarly, which Harry could appreciate,
but cared very little about the practical aspect of magic. While theory was important, it was a
means to an end for Harry and Hermione. They prided themselves in their spellcasting.
The most interesting Sorting was that of the youngest Weasley. Little Ginevra had taken the
better part of five minutes to have her House selected. As she removed the Hat from her head
and made her way to the Gryffindor table, she stared at Harry for a couple of seconds. Harry
could not identify the look she gave him. Many of the first years had attempted to
inconspicuously gawk at him, but her stare was different. Harry could see none of the
wonderment that was present on the faces of most first years who ogled him, and there was
nothing subtle about the intense examination she seemed to be giving him. When Harry
caught her eye, he, for a second, thought her irises were glowing crimson. It was a very
unsettling effect, and he decided he would try to stay away from her this year.
After the Sorting, Dumbledore rose to greet the students. "Generally, I would save my
remarks until after you are fed and watered, but something has arisen that will require my
attention. I shall make this short. To the new students, welcome to Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, and to all the familiar faces, welcome back. We have a rather
extensive list of banned items. If you would like to see the list in its entirety, Mr. Filch will be
happy to provide you with a copy. The Forbidden Forrest is, of course, forbidden. Finally, allow
me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart." The
man rose to his feet and bowed regally, to a smattering of applause. "I look forward to yet
another wonderful year. Now, dig in!" Dumbledore snapped his finger, and piles of food
appeared on the tables. He dashed out of the Hall in the same direction Snape had gone
earlier. Harry almost felt sorry for Weasley and his lackey. While he had nothing against the
Potions Master, he knew that the man could be particularly cruel to Gryffindors, and those two
had been alone with him for quite a while.
"So," Hermione drawled, "You seemed to know where Snape was going. What's happening?"
"I'm not positive, but I believe Snape was going to greet Weasley and Finnigan."
"I saw some of the second year Gryffindors on the train, but neither of them made an
appearance. Did they apparate here, too?"
"No, they flew."
"They flew brooms to the castle? Is that allowed?"
"I'm not sure if students are allowed to travel by broom, but I'm almost positive that arriving
by flying car is discouraged." Harry smirked.
Hermione gaped at him. "You can't be serious. Those dunderheads actually flew here in an
enchanted car?" Harry nodded. "They have to be expelled!" she cried in indignation.
"They probably should be, but I don't see it happening. Snape will push for it, but I doubt
McGonagall will expel any of her Lions. They'll probably be in detention for the next month."
"They should at least lose House Points!"
"Technically, school hadn't started when they broke the rules, but I doubt either of them will
think to mention that. Whether they should lose points or not is irrelevant, but they probably
will." A roar of outrage signified that Gryffindor table had indeed been docked points. Harry
glanced at their hour glass and saw that it had been filled with two hundred black beads,
denoting that their standing was currently negative. Harry had expected them to lose points,
but one hundred apiece was harsher than he had anticipated. Gryffindor was all but out of the
running for the House Cup before the first desserts appeared on the tables.
Daphne sat at the Slytherin table eating her meal in silence. One of the first years had tried to
sit next to her, but she had scowled at him and sent him on his way. It had been a productive
first day, she supposed. It had not taken her much time to succeed in finding the Mirror. It
was back in the abandoned classroom where she had first found it. Dumbledore had removed
it from that room, and asked her not to look for it. By placing it back where she had spent so
many hours during her first year, she believed that Dumbledore was encouraging her to find it
again. The old man was eccentric, but who was she to question his methods?
She had sat in front of the Mirror until the other students arrived. She did not feel guilty about
leaving Harry alone with the Headmaster, because she, unlike the majority of her House,
found the old man to be fascinating. She expected Harry to enjoy a pleasant conversation with
Dumbledore.
She relished the company of the only person who had ever cared for her until it was time for
her to leave. As she stood to walk away, she was reluctant to do so. She felt herself drawn to
the Mirror, but managed to shake it off and leave in time to get back to the Great Hall before
the Sorting began. The level of power that the Mirror had over her was both frightening and
comforting.
As she thought of the Mirror, Daphne did not notice that Draco Malfoy had taken the seat next
to her until he began speaking. "Consorting with half-bloods and sullying the name of our
house… What's next, Greengrass? Do you have any plans to date a Hufflepuff?"
"Leave, Malfoy," she growled.
"I don't think I will. Rumor has it you apparated to school with Potter. Is it true?"
"What if it is?"
Draco paused as he considered this. "It's not proper to consort with a half-blood. Professor
Snape wouldn't be pleased-"
"Wouldn't be pleased about what, Draco? In case you haven't noticed, Professor Snape
actually likes Harry. And if I'm not mistaken, you offered him your friendship at the beginning
of first year and he turned you down. If it's so improper to associate with a half-blood, how
bad is it to be rebuffed by one?" she asked, her voice laced with false sweetness.
"You'll regret that, Greengrass," he snarled.
Daphne laughed, "If I had a sickle for every time you'd said that…"
An outraged Draco Malfoy stalked off to find Crabbe and Goyle to take out his frustration on
some first years.
Daphne smiled viciously as she watched him leave. She had spent a few weeks of her summer
practicing some particularly nasty jinxes, and could not wait to test them.
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Harry walked slowly in the direction of the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom, dreading
his first lesson with Lockhart. Honestly, the man was a complete fraud. Harry was unsure what
to expect from the class this year. He suspected it would entail something dreadfully boring,
foolish, or a combination of the two.
He walked into the Defense classroom and took his usual seat beside Hermione. "Ready for
the lesson, Hermione?" he asked.
She looked at him, and he was unable to read the expression on her face. "I'm not entirely
sure. If half of what Lockhart writes is true, he's an exceptional wizard, but I have my doubts.
Let's see how this first lesson goes."
Lockhart walked into the room, his royal blue robes fluttering behind him. "Good morning,
class." He looked directly at Harry. "I cannot begin to tell you how privileged you are to have
yours truly as your instructor in the noble course of Defense against the Dark Arts." He looked
at the assembled students and saw more than a few skeptical faces amongst the Ravenclaws.
"Perhaps an introduction is in order. For those of you who," he chuckled, "Don't already know
me, I am Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the
Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile
Award." He flashed the class a toothy grin that left many of the females swooning.
Lockhart proceeded to pass out quiz that Harry was almost entirely sure he failed. He doubted
that Lockhart's greatest ambition was to "find a suitable place to shove all his quills," or that
his greatest accomplishment to date was "prying himself away from the mirror in the
morning," but he could not be bothered with answering the questions to Lockhart's desire.
"Alright, class," Lockhart beamed after collecting the quizzes, "How about a practical lesson?"
He removed a cover to reveal a cage of pixies.

Harry looked at Hermione. "I'll wager five galleons that he releases them."
"I'll take you up on that. He couldn't possibly be that daft. That many pixies would destroy the
classroom."
They shook hands and turned their attention back to Lockhart. "Let's see what you make of
them." With a flourish of his wand, the pixies were released.
Hermione sighed, hardly believing that a professor could be so foolish. "Double or nothing I
can stun more than you."
Harry grinned and pulled out his wand, immediately stunning a pixie that had flown behind
Hermione's head. "Sure thing."
Dual cries of "Stupefy" echoed throughout the room for the next ten minutes. When all was
said and done, the room was in disarray, Lockhart was hiding beneath his desk, and Harry had
stunned three more pixies than Hermione. She reluctantly handed him ten galleons as they
left class at the end of the lesson.
After that disastrous first class, Lockhart had shied away from practical lessons. The rest of
Harry's classes were largely the same as they were the previous year. He was still the top of
his class in Charms with only Hermione besting him in Transfiguration.
As soon as he was able, he had made his way to the library to learn about his ability to talk to
snakes. It was, apparently, referred to as parseltongue, and Harry was thrilled to note that
many exceptional wizards had been parselmouths. Harry disagreed with their principles, but
Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort were great wizards.
He told Hermione about his ability as soon as he knew what it was called. "Hermione, what do
you know about parseltongue?"
"The ability to speak to snakes?"
"Yep."
"Not much, really. Not a lot is written about it, because it's usually associated with dark
wizards."
Harry grinned at her. "I can speak it."
She gasped, before returning his smile. "You're full of surprises, Harry Potter."
After a particularly difficult Charms lesson which Harry had mastered, Flitwick asked for him to
stay after class.
The diminutive professor approached him after the rest of the students had left the room, with
a large smile on his face. "Harry my boy, you have shown more aptitude for Charms than any
student I have ever taught. Your mother was truly gifted, but you surpass even her ability."
"Thank you, Professor."

"Would you consent to taking additional nightly Charms lessons? I believe you might be a
prodigy in the subject."
Harry did not even have to consider the offer. "I'd be delighted."
Flitwick smiled at him. "We'll begin tomorrow night, if that's not a problem."
"Of course not." Harry turned to leave, before remembering an earlier conversation with the
Headmaster. "Professor Flitwick, would it be possible for you to teach me how to duel during
these lessons?"
"I had planned on doing that, Harry. Some of the more advanced Charms work is only really
appropriate in duels or battle settings."
He smiled down at Flitwick. "Thanks, Professor."
The extra tuition began the next night as scheduled, and Flitwick's belief that Harry was a
Charms prodigy was strengthened. He quickly demonstrated that he had already mastered all
of the second year Charms, leaving the Professor extremely pleased.
"What do you know of the Patronus Charm, Harry?" asked Flitwick.
Harry ran his hands through his hair while he considered the question. "I know the incantation
and what it's used for, but I've never managed to cast it," he admitted.
"Not to worry, my boy. It's a tricky spell to get right, but with some help you should have it in
no time," he said, smiling widely.
"I understand the theory. The magic is difficult, but nothing I can't handle," he paused,
looking at the floor ashamedly, "But I don't have any memories happy enough to make it
work."
A look of understanding appeared on Flitwick's face. He did not know much about Harry's
home life, but seriously doubted that it had been pleasant. He cared deeply for the dedicated
young man, and would do everything in his power to help him achieve his goals. "I'll do
anything I can to help you get that happy memory," he said sincerely. "In the meantime, if
ever you need to talk, you know where to find me."
Harry smiled down at him. "I think I'd like that, Professor Flitwick."
"Please call me Filius outside of class," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I think that
we've done enough for tonight. Your progress is astounding."
Harry thanked the professor- Filius, he reminded himself, and left the classroom.
As he rounded a corner, he heard a menacing voice hiss, "Rip, tear, kill…" He did not recognize
the speaker, but the reading he had done on parseltongue allowed him to recognize it as the
voice of a serpent.
He sprinted in the direction of the voice, hoping to save the snake's intended victim. The
reading he had done on the subject told him that snakes typically bowed to the will of
parseltongues, and even if the snake would not obey him, he doubted that it would withstand
a simple Reductor.
He chased the voice across the corridor, but could not match its speed. The snake had lost
him, but he did not think it had claimed a victim, as he had seen no one else during his
pursuit.
An exhausted Harry Potter returned to Ravenclaw tower and contemplated the day's events as
he collapsed on his bed.
"Greengrass," Draco Malfoy drawled, as he approached her in the Slytherin common room,
"There's something we need to discuss."
"Why don't you discuss it with someone who doesn't wish you dead?" she asked, without
looking up from the book she was reading.
He seethed internally, but managed to keep his emotions in check. "It is somewhat urgent,"
he ground out through clenched teeth.
"You've mistaken me for someone who gives a damn, Malfoy."
How I would like to put this impetuous girl in her place, he thought. "It's about Potter."
She finally looked up at him, and her eyes were blazing. "What about Harry?"
He smirked and his demeanor changed to one of smugness. "We, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and I
that is, have decided that you are to stop consorting with the half-blood."
Daphne laughed at him.
"What is so funny?" he growled.
"I find it amusing that," she forced out through another chuckle, "You believe yourself to be
Harry's rival."
"Of course I'm Potter's rival! Someone has to keep the Golden Boy in line."
Daphne shook her head. "You just don't get it. Do you, Malfoy? You aren't Harry Potter's rival
because he is a better wizard that you in every regard. You are a pest, a bothersome one I
admit, but only a pest. Harry tolerates you because you have yet to do anything to truly anger
him, but if you force his hand he will crush you."
Draco's face turned red by the end of Daphne's statement, and he raised his hand to strike
her. Before he could act, her wand had appeared in a flash. "Petrificus Totalus!"
He collapsed to the floor, unable to move as she rose from her chair and loomed over him.
She looked at him with undisguised rage. "Fighting like a Muggle now, eh Malfoy? Lucius
would be proud," she said with a sneer. "What I said about Harry mostly applies to me as well,
but I'll be less considerate." She brought her heel down on his nose and heard a satisfying
crunch as the bone was crushed, and crimson blood flowed onto his expensive robes.
She leaned over him, her face inches from his, and whispered, "If you ever try that again, I
will kill you. If you go crying to your father about this, I will kill you. And if you do anything to
hurt Harry, I will kill you." Her voice held no malice as she said this- she was merely stating
the facts. The fear in Malfoy's eyes was evident as she walked out of the room.
Harry helped himself to the Treacle Tart, silently thanking the powers that be that nothing had
interrupted the Halloween Feast this year. He recalled the previous year, when Voldemort had
allowed a troll into the castle. All in all, this Halloween had been rather uneventful, though he
did find it unusual that none of the ghosts were present during the Feast.
After the remaining deserts disappeared, Harry and Hermione stood to leave the Great Hall.
They walked toward the staircase, but were unable to go any further because everyone in
front of them had come to a complete stop. He thought he heard someone yell something
about "Mudbloods."
Probably Malfoy, he thought, as he inched his way forward, trying to see what had caused the
commotion. He wedged his way through two older students and looked over the head of a first
year, and saw a message written on the wall, in what appeared to be blood.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.
Below the message was a large puddle of water and the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, still and
seemingly dead.
He glanced at Hermione, and motioned for her to follow him into an empty classroom. "So it's
real, then? The Chamber of Secrets?" he asked.
"I don't know, Harry. It might just be a joke- you know how much everyone hates Filch. Then
again, I don't think a student would have been able to petrify his cat."
"Petrify?" he asked.
"Yes. The cat was petrified, not killed. It can be hard to tell the difference, but the way it was
positioned was too unnatural for it to have been dead."
Harry replayed the image in his mind and realized that Hermione's assessment was correct.
"You're right," he said, nodding, "But what could have petrified that cat?"
She frowned and furrowed her brow in concentration. "I really don't know. The Chamber of
Secrets is supposed to be the home of the Monster of Slytherin. That would suggest that it
was a snake of some kind, but I can't think of a snake with venom that petrifies its victim."
Harry closed his eyes as he recalled something that had happened weeks earlier- specifically,
his chase of a snake that he never even saw. "It's definitely a snake, but I don't know what
kind," he said, suddenly grateful that he had not caught it.
Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Let's be extra careful, alright?"
Several weeks later, Harry sat alone at the Ravenclaw table eating breakfast. Hermione had
decided to catch up on her sleep. Harry looked up as Roger Davies, an older Ravenclaw,
walked briskly toward him. "Harry lad, I'm in need of some assistance."
"What can I do for you, Roger?" he asked.

"Well, our Seeker's gone and gotten herself put in the Hospital Wing on the same day as our
first match," he said, looking annoyed at the inconvenience. "We don't have a reserve, and
Hooch said that you're a natural on a broom. Will you help us out?"
Harry considered this for a moment. He really did enjoy flying, and he doubted that taking the
time to play one match would interfere with his studies. "I'm in," he said, grinning. "What do I
need to do?"
"Well, you'll be playing Seeker. It's simple enough to explain, but bloody difficult to do. You
only have to do one thing. There'll be a tiny, gold ball- the Snitch. All you have to do is catch
it," he said, looking thoughtful, "And try not to get knocked off your broom by a Bludger."
Harry shot into the air on the old school broom. It was probably the worst broom on the Pitch,
but he outclassed most of the other players in terms of talent. Davies had informed him that
the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Chasers were fairly evenly matched, so the game would likely be
decided by who caught the Snitch.
He felt the wind pound against his face as he rose higher and higher into the air. He finally
came to a stop and began looking for the Snitch. He listened briefly to the commentary.
"Harry Potter couldn't have picked a more difficult first match. Cedric Diggory is one of the
better Seekers we've had at Hogwarts in the past few decades," the voice of Lee Jordan
resounded through the stadium.
Harry heard the Bludger before he saw it. He noticed the soft whoosh, and moments later
heard a sharp crack as the Bludger collided with his foot, cleanly snapping his ankle, causing
him to double over in pain on his broom. It changed course, and rushed at him from the front.
He ascended higher, barely avoiding being hit again.
He began an erratic flight through the stadium, trying in vain to lose the Rogue Bludger. The
hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt it miss his head by millimeters. He urged the
broom farther into the sky, playing a deadly game of cat and mouse. He turned his head to
see if he was still being chased, and barely managed to roll out of the Bludger's path as his
momentary delay gave it another chance to hit him.
He dove to the ground, intent on losing his pursuer, when he noticed a glint of gold. He sped
toward it, extending his arm, as he neared the grass below. His hand closed around the Snitch
at the same time the Bludger collided with the elbow of his outstretched arm, knocking him off
of his broom and sending him crashing the remaining few meters to the ground.
Harry rolled onto his back and looked up, only to see the Bludger diving at his skull. "Not to
worry!" he heard Gilderoy Lockhart say. "I'll take care of that pesky thing. Reducto!"
Damn! Why did it have to be Lockhart? Harry asked himself. He turned his head to face the
Defense Professor, and saw his Reductor heading straight at his chest when his world went
black.
Daphne sat, crying, in front of the Mirror. Hours earlier, she had seen the closest thing she
had to a friend take a Reductor to the chest and a Bludger to the head simultaneously. It had
all happened too fast. She had not had enough time to act. She had cast a shield which
prevented the Bludger from doing any further damage, but she had been too late. Harry was
lucky to be alive.
What disturbed her more was the response of a certain Gryffindor. Ginny Weasley wore a
satisfied smirk on her face throughout the ordeal. If Daphne discovered that she had been
involved, she would kill the little chit.
She recalled an earlier confrontation with the girl. She had seen her walking down the hallway
writing in the book Lucius Malfoy had slipped her before the start of the year. She always
seemed to have that thing with her.
"Keeping a diary, Weasley?" she asked, hoping to gleam some information about the book.
She looked up, and her eyes appeared to glow crimson before reverting to a dark brown.
"Watch your back, Greengrass," she said evenly, before walking away.
She did not know what to think about the girl. Her personality was just… off, somehow. She
needed guidance, and only trusted the opinion of her grandmother. "Should I tell
Dumbledore?" she asked. She gazed into the Mirror, and saw her grandmother smile, nodding
her head. She returned her grandmother's smile, but it failed to reach her eyes. "I'll tell him."
As she rose from the floor, she saw, above her grandmother's head, an enormous pair of
yellow, serpentine eyes. Her world went black.
Harry awoke, suddenly, when he felt a weight upon his chest. "Harry Potter sir, you must be
leaving Hogwarts." He opened his eyes.
"Dobby! Why are you here?"
"To make you safe! Dobby had hoped they would send you home after his Bludger…"
Harry's eyes widened at the realization, before he scowled, asking in a deadly quiet voice,
"Your Bludger, Dobby?"
The elf nodded his head vehemently. "Yes, Harry Potter, sir."
"Is there any particular reason you're trying to kill me?" he asked, his voice still quiet.
"Not kill! Dobby is trying to make you leave Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets is opened
again, and-"
"Again?" Harry interrupted.
Dobby's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. He did not have time to punish himself, as
they heard voices approaching the Hospital Wing. "You must be leaving Hogwarts," Dobby
said, pleadingly, as he disappeared.
Harry closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep when the door opened. "What does this mean,
Headmaster?" asked the voice of Severus Snape.
"It is as I feared, Severus. The Chamber of Secrets has, indeed, been opened again."
"Is the Dark Lord responsible?"
"I am not sure how, but I believe he is. Tom Riddle is the only student to have ever opened
the Chamber, though my sources tell me that Voldemort has fled the island for the time being.
Someone must be helping him."
So, Harry thought, Voldemort is responsible for this. And his real name is Tom Riddle.
"What can we do?" asked Snape.
Dumbledore sighed, "We try to stop him."
Harry heard the two men exit the room and close the door behind them. He opened his eyes,
and noticed that the curtains were drawn around a bed that had previously been empty. He
rose gingerly to his feet, as his ankle was still not fully mended, and walked slowly to the bed.
He pulled back the curtain, and felt his chest constrict painfully. Daphne.
Harry stood in stunned silence, not knowing what to do. He did not know how long he stood
beside her bed. Time did not seem to matter.
He felt a lump in his throat as his eyes swelled, and a tear tracked down his cheek. He gently
ran his finger across her cheek, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll find out who
helped Voldemort do this, Daphne," he said quietly, trying to suppress the tears. "When I do,
I'll make them suffer."
He stared into her cobalt eyes a moment longer, before closing the curtain and returning to
his bed, embracing the oblivion of his dreams.
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Harry slowly opened his eyes, willing the previous night to have been nothing more than a bad
dream. He quickly examined the room and saw a bed with the curtains closed around it,
concealing the occupant, who he knew to be Daphne Greengrass. He was not very familiar
with the petrification process, but he knew that it would take months to brew the antidote. He
had previously planned to give Slytherin's Monster a chance to live if it obeyed him, but that
was now out of the question. It would be destroyed.
His plans for revenge were interrupted when the door to the Hospital Wing opened, and Roger
Davies walked in after seeing that Harry was awake. "Mate, I'm glad to see you alive," he
said, seeming genuinely glad for Harry's health.
Harry nodded his head, not at all glad that he was no longer unconscious.
"In case you didn't know, we won the game. 190 to 20. We decided not to have the party until
you were out of here," he said, gesturing to the Hospital Wing.
"Thanks," Harry said absently.
"The team was wondering if you'd consider playing full time. That was some damn nice flying
on Saturday."
Harry stared at him intently for a moment, before he decided to go easy on him. After all, he
had nothing to do with Daphne's condition. He didn't even know about it. There was no reason
for Harry to take his frustration out on him. "I don't think so, Roger. My introduction to the
sport left something to be desired," he said dryly.
Roger chuckled. "That's what I expected. No hard feelings, mate. Take care of yourself." He
lightly patted Harry on the shoulder before exiting the ward.
Hermione visited him later, and he noted that she had dark circles under her eyes. He doubted
that she had slept at all, so after she had made sure that he was not on the verge of dying, he
ordered her to return to bed.
Later that day, after he had been cleared to leave, he stopped at Daphne's bed and told her
that he would visit frequently.
The next night, he attended his scheduled lesson with Filius. He told the dueling champion
about what he had seen in the Hospital Wing and asked him to begin teaching him how to
fight, and Flitwick was only too happy to oblige.
Harry left the classroom that night beaten and bruised, but feeling that he now had a better
chance if he ever found himself in a real fight.
"Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me?" asked Gilderoy Lockhart at the first meeting of
the Dueling Club.
Harry's dueling skills had improved dramatically during his nightly lessons with Filius. The man
was not a champion duelist for nothing, and he believed that Harry had nearly limitless
potential in the art.
Lockhart kept talking for a few more minutes, but Harry paid minimal attention to the man.
His patience with the incompetent Professor had reached a new low since he had almost killed
him.
Eventually, he noticed that Lockhart and Professor Snape were bowing to each other and
preparing to duel. Snape fired a disarming spell at the man and he went flying backward.
Lockhart was beaten with a single spell.
He slowly got back on his feet, and tried in vain to save face.
The students were grouped in pairs for their duels. Harry had hoped to have a friendly duel
with Hermione, but Lockhart had paired him with Ron Weasley.
He faced the redhead and inclined his head slightly, wondering if it would pass for a bow. It
doesn't really matter, he supposed. He would be more formal in a real duel. As it was,
Weasley was not capable of doing anything against him.
"Stupefy!" Harry said, and the duel was over. Weasley stood in the way of the spell, not trying
to move or shield, and had taken it to the chest. Harry waited impatiently for the other duels
to conclude, tapping his foot against the ground. He noticed that Hermione had taken out
Millicent Bullstrode as easily as he had dispatched his opponent.
For the next round, Harry and Ron were moved to the demonstration platform to duel. Harry
decided to see if Ron was capable of any offensive magic. He grinned wickedly as an idea
formed in his mind.
The pair bowed to each other again, and the duel began. At that moment, two things
happened. Harry leveled his wand at his target and fired. "Reducto!"
Ron Weasley did the same. He pointed his wand at Harry and yelled, "Expelliarmus!"
Harry could not help but laugh at the outcome. Gilderoy Lockhart's eyes widened at the
Reductor struck him in the chest and he was flung against the wall. Ron Weasley's wand shot
out of his hand and he was thrown backward the moment he cast his spell. Harry looked at
the wand on the ground and noticed that it was held together with some kind of tape. Would
he be less incompetent with a functional wand? Harry asked himself.
He heard someone in the crowd say reverently, "He took both of them out at the same bloody
time!"
Over the weeks leading up to the Holidays, rumor began to spread that Harry was the most
powerful person in the castle. He hardly believed that taking out Lockhart and Weasley was
much of an accomplishment, but he happily accepted the praise.
Lockhart had not been seen for the better part of two weeks. This impressed Harry, because
Lockhart's Reductor and Dobby's Bludger had only taken him out of commission for a day. He
was, apparently, much more magically powerful than Lockhart already.
The Holidays were, thankfully, uneventful. Harry received a book about advanced dueling
technique from Hermione, and he spent the last week of his break studying it.
Weeks passed, and Slytherin's Monster had not petrified anyone else. A sense of foreboding
filled the air on the morning of the Gryffindor Hufflepuff Quidditch match. No one could tell
what the problem was, but something seemed to be wrong.
"Come on, 'Mione," Harry said, "Let's go to the Quidditch match."

"When did you start liking Quidditch?" she asked incredulously.
"I don't think we should be in the castle today," he replied.
"Any particular reason?"
"Just a feeling," he said, looking at her worriedly.
She sighed, "Alright. Let's go."
They walked to the Quidditch Pitch and took their seats amongst the other Ravenclaws. The
two teams took the field, and moments before they took to the sky, McGonagall came rushing
onto the Pitch. "Today's match is cancelled. Please return to your dormitories," she said, her
voice magically amplified.
Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "What do you think that was about?"
"No idea. I suppose we'll find out later," she responded. "Hey, look over there!" she
exclaimed, pointing to the Gryffindor section. Harry's eyes followed her gesture and he saw a
group of men wearing Auror robes with their wands trained on Hagrid escorting him from the
stadium.
They followed the other Ravenclaws back to their dormitory, and were met by Filius. The
normally jovial Professor had tears flowing freely down his face. "It is my sad duty to inform
you that we have lost a member of our family," he said through his tears. "Penelope
Clearwater was found dead outside the Library earlier this morning."
Panic spread rapidly over the room, and Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into an
unoccupied corner. He noticed that she had tears in her eyes as well. "It has to be Slytherin's
Monster," he said.
She nodded her head. "Was it Hagrid that released it?" she asked.
"I don't think so. Hagrid's kind of simple, but he's a nice bloke. Dumbledore trusts him."
"You're right, of course. I just… I can't believe that the Monster actually killed someone."
"We need to find out more about the Chamber. We know it's been opened before."
"You should ask Professor Flitwick," she said.
He nodded and searched the room for the Professor. He must have gone back to his office,
Harry decided when he did not see him in the room.
Harry left the Common Room and made his way to the Charms Master's office. He opened the
door slowly, and saw Filius sitting behind his desk, sobbing quietly. "Will you be alright,
Filius?" he asked.
He nodded his head in the affirmative. "It will take some time. I've never lost a member of my
House before. It was a Ravenclaw, Myrtle Brown, that was killed last time as well, but that
was before I started teaching."
"Last time, sir?"

"Yes, last time. The Chamber of Secrets was opened about fifty years ago. They arrested
Hagrid for it then, too. He wasn't responsible, of course," he added.
"Why was he arrested this time?"
"I suspect it was because Fudge wanted to be seen as doing something."
Harry hugged the man before he headed back to the Common Room to discuss what he had
learned with Hermione.
"Myrtle Brown?" she asked.
"That's what Filius said."
"Harry, she never left. She has to be Moaning Myrtle. She haunts the girl's bathroom on the
second floor. No one ever goes in there."
"I think we should pay Myrtle a visit."
"Myrtle, I need to ask you a personal question. Is that alright?" he asked. She nodded her
translucent head. "How did you die?"
She tilted her head to the side, and appeared to be… flattered. "No one's ever asked me that
before," she said. "I don't really know. The last thing I remember is seeing a pair of big,
yellow eyes. Right over there." She pointed at the sinks.
Harry considered this. "The last thing she saw was a pair of eyes," he reasoned aloud, "It
must have been a Basilisk."
"That doesn't work, Harry. Mrs. Norris and Daphne were only petrified," Hermione argued.
Harry thought about that. "That's because they didn't look directly into its eyes. Remember
the water that was on the floor when they found Mrs. Norris? And I'll bet Daphne was looking
at the Mirror when she saw it."
"That makes sense," she agreed. "What are we going to do?"
"We're going to find the Chamber. Then we're going to go tell Dumbledore. Myrtle said that
she saw it above the sinks.

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Harry slowly opened his eyes, willing the previous night to have been nothing more than a bad
dream. He quickly examined the room and saw a bed with the curtains closed around it,
concealing the occupant, who he knew to be Daphne Greengrass. He was not very familiar
with the petrification process, but he knew that it would take months to brew the antidote. He
had previously planned to give Slytherin's Monster a chance to live if it obeyed him, but that
was now out of the question. It would be destroyed.
His plans for revenge were interrupted when the door to the Hospital Wing opened, and Roger
Davies walked in after seeing that Harry was awake. "Mate, I'm glad to see you alive," he
said, seeming genuinely glad for Harry's health.
Harry nodded his head, not at all glad that he was no longer unconscious.
"In case you didn't know, we won the game. 190 to 20. We decided not to have the party until
you were out of here," he said, gesturing to the Hospital Wing.
"Thanks," Harry said absently.
"The team was wondering if you'd consider playing full time. That was some damn nice flying
on Saturday."
Harry stared at him intently for a moment, before he decided to go easy on him. After all, he
had nothing to do with Daphne's condition. He didn't even know about it. There was no reason
for Harry to take his frustration out on him. "I don't think so, Roger. My introduction to the
sport left something to be desired," he said dryly.
Roger chuckled. "That's what I expected. No hard feelings, mate. Take care of yourself." He
lightly patted Harry on the shoulder before exiting the ward.
Hermione visited him later, and he noted that she had dark circles under her eyes. He doubted
that she had slept at all, so after she had made sure that he was not on the verge of dying, he
ordered her to return to bed.
Later that day, after he had been cleared to leave, he stopped at Daphne's bed and told her
that he would visit frequently.
The next night, he attended his scheduled lesson with Filius. He told the dueling champion
about what he had seen in the Hospital Wing and asked him to begin teaching him how to
fight, and Flitwick was only too happy to oblige.
Harry left the classroom that night beaten and bruised, but feeling that he now had a better
chance if he ever found himself in a real fight.
"Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me?" asked Gilderoy Lockhart at the first meeting of
the Dueling Club.
Harry's dueling skills had improved dramatically during his nightly lessons with Filius. The man
was not a champion duelist for nothing, and he believed that Harry had nearly limitless
potential in the art.
Lockhart kept talking for a few more minutes, but Harry paid minimal attention to the man.
His patience with the incompetent Professor had reached a new low since he had almost killed
him.
Eventually, he noticed that Lockhart and Professor Snape were bowing to each other and
preparing to duel. Snape fired a disarming spell at the man and he went flying backward.
Lockhart was beaten with a single spell.
He slowly got back on his feet, and tried in vain to save face.
The students were grouped in pairs for their duels. Harry had hoped to have a friendly duel
with Hermione, but Lockhart had paired him with Ron Weasley.
He faced the redhead and inclined his head slightly, wondering if it would pass for a bow. It
doesn't really matter, he supposed. He would be more formal in a real duel. As it was,
Weasley was not capable of doing anything against him.
"Stupefy!" Harry said, and the duel was over. Weasley stood in the way of the spell, not trying
to move or shield, and had taken it to the chest. Harry waited impatiently for the other duels
to conclude, tapping his foot against the ground. He noticed that Hermione had taken out
Millicent Bullstrode as easily as he had dispatched his opponent.
For the next round, Harry and Ron were moved to the demonstration platform to duel. Harry
decided to see if Ron was capable of any offensive magic. He grinned wickedly as an idea
formed in his mind.
The pair bowed to each other again, and the duel began. At that moment, two things
happened. Harry leveled his wand at his target and fired. "Reducto!"
Ron Weasley did the same. He pointed his wand at Harry and yelled, "Expelliarmus!"
Harry could not help but laugh at the outcome. Gilderoy Lockhart's eyes widened at the
Reductor struck him in the chest and he was flung against the wall. Ron Weasley's wand shot
out of his hand and he was thrown backward the moment he cast his spell. Harry looked at
the wand on the ground and noticed that it was held together with some kind of tape. Would
he be less incompetent with a functional wand? Harry asked himself.
He heard someone in the crowd say reverently, "He took both of them out at the same bloody
time!"
Over the weeks leading up to the Holidays, rumor began to spread that Harry was the most
powerful person in the castle. He hardly believed that taking out Lockhart and Weasley was
much of an accomplishment, but he happily accepted the praise.
Lockhart had not been seen for the better part of two weeks. This impressed Harry, because
Lockhart's Reductor and Dobby's Bludger had only taken him out of commission for a day. He
was, apparently, much more magically powerful than Lockhart already.
The Holidays were, thankfully, uneventful. Harry received a book about advanced dueling
technique from Hermione, and he spent the last week of his break studying it.
Weeks passed, and Slytherin's Monster had not petrified anyone else. A sense of foreboding
filled the air on the morning of the Gryffindor Hufflepuff Quidditch match. No one could tell
what the problem was, but something seemed to be wrong.
"Come on, 'Mione," Harry said, "Let's go to the Quidditch match."
"When did you start liking Quidditch?" she asked incredulously.
"I don't think we should be in the castle today," he replied.
"Any particular reason?"
"Just a feeling," he said, looking at her worriedly.
She sighed, "Alright. Let's go."
They walked to the Quidditch Pitch and took their seats amongst the other Ravenclaws. The
two teams took the field, and moments before they took to the sky, McGonagall came rushing
onto the Pitch. "Today's match is cancelled. Please return to your dormitories," she said, her
voice magically amplified.
Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "What do you think that was about?"
"No idea. I suppose we'll find out later," she responded. "Hey, look over there!" she
exclaimed, pointing to the Gryffindor section. Harry's eyes followed her gesture and he saw a
group of men wearing Auror robes with their wands trained on Hagrid escorting him from the
stadium.
They followed the other Ravenclaws back to their dormitory, and were met by Filius. The
normally jovial Professor had tears flowing freely down his face. "It is my sad duty to inform
you that we have lost a member of our family," he said through his tears. "Penelope
Clearwater was found dead outside the Library earlier this morning."
Panic spread rapidly over the room, and Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into an
unoccupied corner. He noticed that she had tears in her eyes as well. "It has to be Slytherin's
Monster," he said.
She nodded her head. "Was it Hagrid that released it?" she asked.
"I don't think so. Hagrid's kind of simple, but he's a nice bloke. Dumbledore trusts him."
"You're right, of course. I just… I can't believe that the Monster actually killed someone."
"We need to find out more about the Chamber. We know it's been opened before."
"You should ask Professor Flitwick," she said.
He nodded and searched the room for the Professor. He must have gone back to his office,
Harry decided when he did not see him in the room.
Harry left the Common Room and made his way to the Charms Master's office. He opened the
door slowly, and saw Filius sitting behind his desk, sobbing quietly. "Will you be alright,
Filius?" he asked.
He nodded his head in the affirmative. "It will take some time. I've never lost a member of my
House before. It was a Ravenclaw, Myrtle Brown, that was killed last time as well, but that
was before I started teaching."
"Last time, sir?"
"Yes, last time. The Chamber of Secrets was opened about fifty years ago. They arrested
Hagrid for it then, too. He wasn't responsible, of course," he added.
"Why was he arrested this time?"
"I suspect it was because Fudge wanted to be seen as doing something."
Harry hugged the man before he headed back to the Common Room to discuss what he had
learned with Hermione.
"Myrtle Brown?" she asked.
"That's what Filius said."
"Harry, she never left. She has to be Moaning Myrtle. She haunts the girl's bathroom on the
second floor. No one ever goes in there."
"I think we should pay Myrtle a visit."
"Myrtle, I need to ask you a personal question. Is that alright?" he asked. She nodded her
translucent head. "How did you die?"
She tilted her head to the side, and appeared to be… flattered. "No one's ever asked me that
before," she said. "I don't really know. The last thing I remember is seeing a pair of big,
yellow eyes. Right over there." She pointed at the sinks.
Harry considered this. "The last thing she saw was a pair of eyes," he reasoned aloud, "It
must have been a Basilisk."
"That doesn't work, Harry. Mrs. Norris and Daphne were only petrified," Hermione argued.
Harry thought about that. "That's because they didn't look directly into its eyes. Remember
the water that was on the floor when they found Mrs. Norris? And I'll bet Daphne was looking
at the Mirror when she saw it."
"That makes sense," she agreed. "What are we going to do?"
"We're going to find the Chamber. Then we're going to go tell Dumbledore. Myrtle said that
she saw it above the sinks. That must be the opening."
Harry walked to the sinks and looked for something that symbolized the opening. The third
sink he looked at had a small, almost unnoticeable, snake engraved on it. "Open," he hissed.
The sinks began to separate, and a chasm appeared between them- the Chamber of Secrets.
"Let's go find Dumbledore," he said.
They ran out of the bathroom and noticed something they had missed earlier. Written on the
wall, below where the first message had been was:
HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.
Harry's thoughts went immediately to Daphne. Had they taken her? "Hermione, go find
Dumbledore. I'm going into the Chamber."
"Harry, you can't!"
"I have to. Whoever that thing took, I can't let her die. Besides, I'm the only parseltongue in
school. If I can't do it, I don't think anyone else will be able to. Go get Dumbledore," he
pleaded.
She nodded her head, before hugging him ferociously. "Please be careful, Harry."
He smiled at her, masking how nervous he truly felt. "Always."
Harry ran back into the bathroom and jumped into the Chamber before he could change his
mind.
He walked into the Inner Sanctum of the Chamber, praying that the Monster had not taken
Daphne, and feeling ashamed that he wished the fate on someone else. He saw a little girl
lying on the ground. It took him a moment to recognize her. "Ginny Weasley," he mused as he
walked toward her.
"Very good, Harry Potter," came a voice from behind.
Harry turned around to face the other person. It was a teenage boy, probably a few years
older than Harry, wearing what seemed to be an old school uniform. Slytherin, Harry noted.
Something about this felt wrong to Harry. He recalled the first time he had encountered Ginny
Weasley, and shivered. Was she somehow responsible for all this?
"Ginny has told me a lot about you, Harry. You remind me a great deal of myself at your age.
I can sense your power."
"Who are you?"

"I was once Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said, sneering at the name.
"Ah," Harry said, "I thought you were a spirit now, Voldemort."
"Very impressive," he said, clapping his hands, "You have figured it out. Few people know that
Tom Riddle and Voldemort are the same person."
"You didn't answer my question. What type of magic is this?"
"This is magic at its most powerful," he said, smiling viciously. "Notice the book that the little
fool holds in her hands. With the help of that book, I have taken her life force."
"I've never heard of that kind of magic."
"I am not surprised. Dumbledore would not have wanted his students to know about true
power."
"Dumbledore is a great wizard," Harry said defensively.
"He is powerful, yes. I do not deny that. But he is a fool. He allowed me to become a Dark
Lord under his watch. It was under his very nose that I became the most powerful sorcerer to
ever live."
"Is the girl dead?"
Voldemort smirked at him. "You do not seem to care for her safety, Harry Potter. Why have
you come to rescue her?"
"I didn't come to rescue her. Truthfully, she is a disturbing little girl."
"That would be my doing. She has possessed my diary for almost a year, and she has been
under its control for nearly that long. The Ginny Weasley you encountered at the beginning of
the school year was already my puppet. She offered very little resistance. She is still alive, but
only just. Does it really matter?"
"To some people."
"To you?"
"I… I'm not sure. If not for her, a very dear friend of mine would not be in the Hospital Wing
right now."
"Will you join me, Harry Potter? You have the power and intelligence to stand beside me, atop
the world." He spread his arms and made a grand, sweeping gesture.
"No," he said without hesitation.
"I can see what you want. You want power and respect. I can give you those things."
Harry thought of Daphne. "That's not all that matters, Voldemort. Why did you attack a pure-
blood?"
"My concern for blood has been overstated. She knew about the diary and was a threat."
"You've harmed too many people that I care about," he said simply.
Voldemort sighed. "Very well. You could have been great, Harry Potter." He turned and hissed,
"Kill the boy."
"Stop." Harry ordered the serpent. The Basilisk did not obey him.
Voldemort gaped before he carefully masked his face to school his emotions. "Do not attack
the boy," he hissed. "You speak the language of my ancestor?"
"Full of surprises, aren't I?"
"It does not matter, child. I do wish things could have gone differently. I shall give honor you
with a proper duel," he said.
"If that is what you wish."
Harry drew his wand and Voldemort picked up Ginny's. "It is not a perfect match, but as I
have her life force, this wand will be acceptable."
They bowed to each other and the duel began. "Stupefy!" Harry shouted. Voldemort nimbly
stepped to the side, easily avoiding the Stunner. "Stupefy!" With a deft wave of Ginny's wand,
the spell was thrown to the side.
The Dark Lord twirled his wand lazily, and Harry found himself immobilized on the ground. "I
shall give you one more chance, Harry Potter. Your potential is great. Join me and I shall
teach you real magic. I can make your relatives love you. With my help, you can make the
world bow to you."
"I must regretfully decline your offer, Voldemort. You and I could never work."
Voldemort chuckled, "Then you shall die." Voldemort stood over him, the words that had
caused immeasurable death on his lips.
"Good evening, Tom," came the voice of Albus Dumbledore from the other side of the
Sanctum.
Voldemort looked away from Harry with a scowl on his face, and saw Albus Dumbledore with a
phoenix on his shoulder, flanked by Flitwick on his left and Snape on his right. The fire that
burned behind the Headmaster's eyes was frightening. "Attack the old man," he ordered the
snake.
The phoenix flew from Dumbledore's shoulder and landed atop the Basilisk's head, and dug its
claws into the beast's eyes. The snake hissed in pain as its eyes were destroyed. "Kill them
all!" Voldemort ordered. The snake charged at the group of men.
A chain of fire emitted from Dumbledore's wand and wrapped itself around the Basilisk's head.
A wave of gold from Snape struck it between the eyes, and it opened its mouth in pain and
shock. Flitwick took advantage of the opportunity and fired a wave of purple energy into the
snake's mouth. The wave exploded, nearly cleaving the beast's head from its body and
sending debris from inside the snake flying around the Chamber. Dumbledore tightened the
flames around the Basilisk, and it fell in two pieces to the ground, undoubtedly dead.
Voldemort shrieked in anger as the Monster of his ancestor was destroyed by his nemesis. He
looked around the room and saw that four wands were trained on him. "If you kill me, the girl
dies."
Harry made his way to the side of the prone body of Ginny Weasley. He removed the book
from her hands. Voldemort displayed his fear only for a moment, before laughing at him.
"There is nothing you can do to destroy that book, boy."
Harry placed the book on the ground at his feet and took a few steps back. "Reducto!" The
book was struck cleanly by the spell, but its condition did not change. "Diffindo!" The cutting
curse hit the cover of the book, but did no noticeable damage. Voldemort's laughter became
louder, almost maniacal.
"It is indestructible, child."
"Nothing is indestructible, Tom." Harry thought back to his reading about the Basilisk. The
Serpent King's venom was especially potent. He looked around the room and found the object
he thought he would need to destroy the diary. "Accio!" The Basilisk fang landed smoothly in
his hand.
Voldemort screamed, "Join me, Potter! We will be unstoppable! With power such as ours-"
He was unable to finish his thought as Harry slammed the fang into the diary. Ink spurted
from the pages, and the Dark Lord wailed in pain. Harry stabbed the book again, and with one
final scream, the Dark Lord disappeared.
"Harry," began Dumbledore, "You have done brilliantly. Do you know what happened to Miss
Weasley?"
"The weak minded fool allowed the Basilisk to attack a close friend of mine and kill a member
of my House before nearly giving Voldemort the means to return," Harry seethed.
Ginny Weasley slowly opened her eyes, but wished she could return to unconsciousness when
she saw the look of undisguised hatred on the face of her childhood idol.
Daphne groggily opened her eyes and observed her surroundings. She seemed to be in the
Hospital Wing, and she could taste a foul potion in the back of her throat.
Madam Pomfrey rushed to her bed. "Finally awake, are you dear? You gave us quite the
scare."
"What happened?" asked Daphne, her voice hoarse from lack of use.
Madam Pomfrey proceeded to tell her the story of her petrification, and what had done it. She
thanked Merlin that she had seen the Basilisk's eyes in the Mirror before she turned around.
"There's a note for you on the stand beside your bed," the matron said gently.
Daphne picked up the scrap of parchment and began to read.
Daphne,
I don't know exactly how to write this. It seems incredibly awkward to put my thoughts on
parchment like this.
I just want to let you know that I miss you. I've visited you a few times, but it's not really the
same when you're not insulting me.
I suppose you'll be happy to know that the Basilisk has been exterminated. It never really had
a chance against the professors.
Get well soon, and take care of yourself.
-Potter
Daphne grinned to herself as a solitary tear made its way down her cheek. She folded the
piece of parchment and placed it in her pocket.
Harry sat in the Headmaster's office on the last day of the school year, having a long overdue
conversation.
"Professor, Voldemort said some things in the Chamber… Things that frighten me," Harry
shuddered.
"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well, he said that we're the same, that I remind him of a young Tom Riddle."
"That's preposterous, my boy," Dumbledore admonished. "While Tom Riddle was a driven
student, much as you are, his motivations were different. You want to be loved and respected.
Tom wanted to be feared."
"But I'm a parselmouth."
"Indeed you are. It is my belief that Voldemort transferred that ability to you the night he
gave you your scar."
"Did he transfer anything else?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not believe so. You have prodigious magical ability for one
your age, but I believe that is your own strength. Not Voldemort's."
"I was no match for him, sir. He took me down like it was nothing, and would have killed me if
you hadn't arrived," Harry said, his eyes drifting to the floor in shame.
"Very few people can match Voldemort, Harry. I have yet to meet a second year who can
claim to be Voldemort's equal in power. I have no doubt that you will one day be an
exceptional duelist. I have already agreed to train you after Filius has taught you the basics. I
believe that you will be able to challenge Tom eventually."
Harry noticed the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, and could not help but feel better about his
chances to defeat Voldemort in the future. "What type of magic was the diary, sir?"
"That diary represents the pinnacle of evil magic, Harry. Suffice it to say that a piece of
Voldemort was contained within its pages."
"Does he have any other diaries?"
"I do not know."
Harry and Hermione sat by themselves in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He had
already told her about the events of the Chamber.
Harry waved excitedly as he saw Daphne walk past their compartment. She did not return the
wave, but he noticed that a small smile graced her lips and she inclined her head slightly,
before she walked out of sight.
The train pulled into King's Cross Station without incident. Harry said his goodbyes and
promised to write. He walked onto the platform and spent minutes looking for his relatives.
The Dursleys had not bothered to come get him.
Harry grumbled something under his breath, as he carried his trunk out of the station and
called for the Knight Bus.
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silentclock
Author of 3 Stories
As Harry exited the Knight Bus in front of Number Four Privet Drive, he decided that he was
becoming far too familiar with Stan Shunpike. He had nothing against the man, but doubted
that many other wizards his age rode the Knight Bus so frequently. The price was not a
terrible inconvenience, but he rather disliked the experience of it.
He was in a foul mood after the nauseating trip, and as he hefted his trunk inside the house
his disposition was sour.
Vernon watched with faint amusement as his scrawny nephew struggled with his trunk. He
was paid handsomely to house the boy and be civil with him, but he did not have to like the
runt. The humor of the situation disappeared when Harry fixed his Uncle with a cold glare.
"Is there any particular reason you decided not to pick me up at the station, Uncle?" he asked
quietly, his eyes drilling holes through the beefy man.
"Didn't… Didn't see the need," he stammered.
"Didn't see the need?" Harry asked, without raising his voice.
"Well, you made it back alright," he said, his face turning red.
"I'm afraid that's not the point, Uncle."
Vernon's complexion turned puce. He would not have that boy disrespect him in his own
house; Albus Dumbledore and his payments be damned. "Now see here, boy-" he began.
"No, you see here Vernon," Harry interrupted, "I know about the payments Headmaster
Dumbledore sends to you for my room and board. I'm actually quite thankful for them. Merlin
knows how bad life here would've been if you hadn't gotten paid. The point, Uncle, is that you
had damn well better earn them."
Vernon's veins were throbbing, and he seemed to be struggling to control his temper. "How do
you propose we do that, freak?"
"I don't know, Vernon," Harry started, raising his voice for the first time. "Perhaps you could
do something small like picking me up from the station. Maybe you could have pretended to
love me," he trailed off, his face reddening in embarrassment at the admission.
Harry grabbed his trunk and headed up the stairs toward his bedroom. As he was leaving, he
heard his Uncle say, "I wouldn't count on that!"
Harry collapsed onto his bed and angry tears welled up in his eyes. In spite of everything that
had happened, he still held onto a sliver of hope that perhaps his relatives would, one day,
come to care for him. Vernon had effectively squashed that wish. Harry would no longer hold
out any hope that his relatives would become people he could call family.
Harry spent most of his time locked in his room studying his books or walking the streets of
Little Whinging. He had purchased a number of books on Advanced Charms theory at Filius'
request. His relationship with Vernon was strained, and he tried to keep away from the man,
lest they get into another argument.
As he walked down the street one hot afternoon in early July, he noticed an older woman, Mrs.
Figg if he remembered correctly, watching him. She had lived on Privet Drive for as long as he
could remember, but he could not recall ever speaking to her.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Oh," she started, flustered at being caught watching him. "No. I'd best be going, Harry."
He frowned. "How do you know my name?"
Her eyes widened when she realized her mistake. "Your Aunt told me," she lied as smoothly as
she could.
Harry shook his head. "No she didn't. Aunt Petunia doesn't usually mention me. How do you
know who I am?" he asked again, more forcefully this time.
She sighed in defeat. "Headmaster Dumbledore sent me here to keep an eye on you," she
admitted. "Come inside, and we'll talk," she said, motioning him inside the house.
Harry nodded, his curiosity getting the better of his cautiousness. Still, he wrapped his fingers
tightly around the wand in his pocket as he walked inside.
The house, he noticed, was an almost perfect replica of Number Four. Aunt Petunia would not
have tolerated the smell of stale cat urine that pervaded Mrs. Figg's home, but the structures
were identical.
"Care for a biscuit?" she asked.
"No, I'd prefer an explanation," he said firmly.
She reluctantly nodded her head. "The Headmaster sent me here to keep an eye on you
eleven years ago."
"Why?"
"He wanted to make sure you weren't treated poorly. From what I could tell, the Dursleys
never accepted you as one of their own, but they didn't mistreat you," she said, frowning
slightly.
"Is that all?"
"He needed someone in the area in case you were ever attacked."
"Did he expect you to fight off a Death Eater attack?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course not. I'm non-magical, but can use the Floo as well as anyone else. If anything had
happened, I'd have let Albus know."
"That's actually a relief. I'd never really considered it, but I'm glad that he had someone here
to keep an eye on things," he said with genuine gratitude.
"Albus is a great man," she said. "Not many people would employ a Squib, but Albus doesn't
care about any of that."
"I hold the Headmaster in high regard. He's done a lot for me over my life."
They spent the next hour trading stories about the venerable Headmaster. When Harry left
Mrs. Figg's home that evening, he felt a lot better than he had before his walk.
Before Harry knew it, his birthday had arrived. He received a book on Ancient Runes from
Hermione. They had discussed their options for the coming school year and decided to take
Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Filius sent him a wand holster that would give him a serious
advantage in any fight. He was beginning to regard the Professor as a favored Uncle.
Hermione's gift came with a letter letting him know that she was spending her holiday in
France. He wished he could join her.
"Boy," hollered Uncle Vernon, "Get down here!"
Harry made his way downstairs at a leisurely pace. He was not in a hurry to acquiesce to any
of Vernon's commands.
"You took your time," Vernon grumbled while Harry looked at him impassively. "Your Aunt
Marge is staying here for the next week. You'll be on your best behavior," he threatened. "She
doesn't know about your disorder, and we'll keep it that way."
"I'm not making any promises, Vernon. If she behaves, I will too."
Vernon's nostrils flared, but he nodded his head, hoping to avoid any confrontations so soon
before his sister arrived.
The tension around the dinner table was palpable. "Bad breeding, I tell you," said Aunt Marge.
"You can't blame yourself, Vernon. Look at how Dudley's turned out."
Vernon nodded in agreement, but he looked at Harry with some trepidation. He remembered
Harry's condition for hiding his unnaturalness.
"It's all about the blood," she continued. "A worthless drunk and that harlot sister of Petunia's
couldn't have hoped for any better."
Harry rose forcefully from the table. "A word, Vernon?" he asked, motioning his Uncle to follow
him from the room.
"What the bloody Hell is this about, boy?" he asked.
"You know damn well what it's about. You shut her up, or I will," he threatened.
Vernon clenched his fists and tried in vain to control his temper. "Get out of my house."
Harry smirked at him and said, "Gladly." He knew that Dumbledore had a reason for placing
him with the Dursleys, but after this summer he could no longer bear to suffer their company.
His Aunt and Uncle had always treated him coolly at best, and his cousin had been cruel until
he had learned to control his magic. This summer, Vernon and Petunia had been downright
nasty. For the longest time, he had loved his relatives and hoped for them to love him in kind.
The events of this summer had squashed the love he had for his them.
Harry headed up the stairs to the room that had served as his bedroom for the past twelve
years to gather his things. He haphazardly tossed his possessions into his school trunk and let
his owl out of her cage. "Go out and fly for a while, girl. I'll probably head to London, and you
can find me later." She hooted and flew out the open window.
Harry walked back down the stairs, dragging his trunk behind him, and stepped into the
kitchen to say his goodbyes.
"It's been a hellish twelve years," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I can say, without any
hesitation, that I hate all of you. May you one day reap all that you've sown." Harry turned to
leave the kitchen, before stopping to make a final comment. "And Marge, I must say that I
agree with some of your talk about breeding. I shall be thankful for the rest of my life that I
am not related to you by blood." He gathered his trunk and left the Dursley home.
He walked down Privet Drive, dragging his heavy trunk behind him. He intended to call the
Knight Bus and take a trip to London. Guess I'll be seeing Stan Shunpike again, he thought.
He would probably spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron and see where things went from
there.
As he made it to Magnolia Crescent, his senses told him that he was being watched. He
stopped and searched the area for anything suspicious. On the other side of the street, he
noticed a large, black dog staring at him. That, Harry decided, Is no ordinary dog. It was
standing too still and paying too much attention to him. Could it be an Animagus?
Slowly, Harry made his way across the street, and the dog seemed too stunned at being
caught to react. "Come with me, boy," Harry said slowly, "I know what you are."
The dog nodded its head resignedly, and followed Harry down the street to a deserted section
of a park he had discovered the previous summer. "Change," he ordered.
The dog nodded again, and slowly morphed into a scraggly, worn-down looking man in ragged
robes. "What the Hell happened to you?" Harry asked about the man's appearance.
The man laughed in a manner reminiscent of a bark, "That Harry, is a long story."
"So, you know who I am?"
"Of course I do. You're my Godson," he said simply.
"To the best of my knowledge, I haven't a Godfather. I've been living with those Muggles for
twelve years."
The man scowled, "I'm sorry about that, Harry. I'd have broken out sooner if I knew things
were rough for you."
"Broken out?" Harry asked confusedly.
The man sighed, "Do you know what Veritaserum is?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Of course."

"I managed to acquire a vial of it in case anyone discovered me. Would you recognize it?"
Harry nodded his head and the man removed a vial from his tattered robes. He handed it to
Harry, who instantly recognized the clear liquid as the truth serum.
"Would you care to administer three drops of that to my tongue, Harry?"
"Why do you need it?" Harry asked, his confusion growing.
"The story I'm about to tell will be difficult for you to believe," he explained.
"Alright." Harry carefully poured three drops of the potion on the man's tongue and waited for
his eyes to glaze over, showing that it had taken effect.
"What is your name?" Harry asked.
"Sirius Black."
Harry recognized the name immediately. This man was, supposedly, one of Voldemort's
staunchest supporters, and had been in Azkaban for the past twelve years. "Are you now, or
have you ever been loyal to the Dark Lord Voldemort?"
"No."
Harry exhaled deeply, "Are you really my Godfather?"
"Yes."
"How did you gain that position?"
"Your father was my best friend. We met on the Hogwarts Express our first year, and were
both sorted into Gryffindor. I was best man at his wedding, and when you were born I was
asked to be your Godfather."
"Why were you sent to Azkaban?" Harry asked. This question would decide his following
course of action.
"I was framed. Peter Pettigrew was a friend of ours at Hogwarts. When your parents' home
was placed under the Fidelius Charm, he was chosen as the Secret Keeper because I was the
obvious choice. He betrayed them to Voldemort and I was blamed. He killed twelve Muggles
and disappeared in his Animagus form, after I found him. I was blamed for that as well."
Harry's eyes widened. "Why did you decide to break out of Azkaban?"
"I saw a picture of Pettigrew in the Daily Prophet. I want to kill him and provide a home for
my Godson."
Harry was shocked, but immeasurably grateful that someone wanted to provide a home for
him. "Do you have a house?"
"Yes."
"Is it fit to be lived in?"

"It will need a bit of work. It would also be a good idea to have the Fidelius put on it."
Harry considered that briefly. He did not think he could cast the Fidelius yet, so he decided to
send Dumbledore a missive immediately.
Harry looked up at the man- Sirius, he reminded himself, and watched as the effects of the
Veritaserum slowly disappeared.
Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head forcefully. When he opened his eyes again, they
were clear.
"Can you apparate us to this house of yours?" Harry asked.
Sirius's face lit up at that question. "Or course! I nicked a wand from a fellow in the Alley. It's
not a perfect match, but it's serviceable. I'll get my elf to bring your trunk. Kreacher!"
A decrepit looking house elf appeared next to them with a pop. "Master," it spat out the title
with derision.
"Take that trunk and put it in the bedroom next to mine at Grimmauld Place."
"Yes, Master." The elf grabbed the trunk and disappeared with another pop.
Harry did not know how to feel about Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The dilapidated House
of Black had been subject to decades of neglect. Once the pinnacle of respectable pure-
blooded living, the massive house was a shadow of its former glory. The formerly lavish paints
had faded and years' worth of debris had piled up on the floor.
After Harry arrived at his new home, he immediately penned a letter to the Headmaster. He
tried to adequately convey his message without giving away any information that would be
meaningful to an outside observer. Hedwig had arrived shortly after them, and he knew that
Dumbledore would recognize his owl.
Professor Dumbledore,
My relatives and I have finally reached an impasse. I was told to leave Privet Drive, and was
only too happy to oblige. On my way to call the Knight Bus, I met my Godfather, whose name
I am sure you know.
We had a long discussion, during which he was under the influence of Veritaserum, and he
said that he was never really able to give anyone directions to my parents' home. He said that
he had to ask Pettigrew how to find it.
We're currently at his parents' old house, and we require your presence at the earliest
possible convenience.
Sincerely,
The Boy Who No Longer Lives in Surrey
Harry sent the letter off with Hedwig, hoping to see the Headmaster soon.
Late that night, Dumbledore sat alone in his office, hoping to hear from Harry. The wards at
Privet Drive had fallen, and when he had gone to visit the Dursleys, they told him they had
sent Harry on his way.
He had a great deal of faith in Harry. He was a capable young wizard who would be able to
defend himself under must scenarios. He knew that his favorite student would contact him as
soon as he was able.
He was unsure what to do when he did find Harry. He had placed him at Privet Drive to ensure
his safety. The wards that had, until recently, surrounded the Dursley home were neigh
indestructible.
He supposed he could have taken Harry in all those years ago, but he did want him to have a
normal childhood. He would have been safe, but a childhood living with Albus Dumbledore
would be everything but normal.
Perhaps it was foolish to expect Harry to have a happy childhood with the Dursleys, but he
had seen many years ago that Petunia Dursley was not beyond redemption. Her bigotry was,
at that time, mostly a defense mechanism. She had been wounded by her sister's
disappearance to the magical world, so she had condemned that world in its entirety.
He spent a great deal of time observing them after he placed Harry in their home, and though
she would deny it, Petunia still loved her sister. If she had been willing to love Harry in turn,
as Dumbledore expected her to do, she would have been able to rein in her family. Harry
would have had the childhood Dumbledore wanted for him.
He saw tonight, when he looked into Petunia Dursley's eyes, that he had never been more
mistaken. Whatever hope he had for her redemption twelve years ago was now gone. She had
bowed to her prejudices, and they had eventually consumed her. He had no doubt that if they
had not been receiving payments the Dursleys would have treated Harry as a piece of trash.
So Albus Dumbledore sat, his fingers arched in front of his nose, patiently awaiting Harry's owl
when he heard a rap at his window. He smoothly made his way to the window and allowed the
owl he knew to belong to Harry into his office.
He quickly unrolled the piece of parchment and began to read. As he read the letter, his face
changed from impassive to concerned, and eventually to hopeful. If this is true, he thought,
Sirius Black was wrongfully imprisoned. He had always liked Sirius, and was devastated when
he learned that he had betrayed James and Lily.
Dumbledore made it past Hogwarts' anti-apparition wards with surprising speed for someone
his age, and apparated to Grimmauld Place.
He walked into the kitchen and saw Harry and Sirius sitting across from each other at the
table, laughing raucously.
"I'm glad to see you're well, Harry," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Now, if I did not
misunderstand your letter, Sirius has told you that he was not your parents' Secret Keeper?"
"That's right," Harry and Sirius said in unison.
"Would you consent to answer a few questions of mine under Veritaserum?"

Sirius nodded, and Dumbledore administered the vial of the potion he brought with him. He
essentially repeated Harry's questions, and the content of the letter Harry sent him was
confirmed.
"Sirius," Dumbledore began, "You have been done a great injustice. It is my hope that you will
be exonerated in the near future. Unfortunately, I believe you will need to remain in hiding
until we have a new Minister for Magic. I fear Cornelius would have you Kissed before listening
to your story."
Sirius nodded reluctantly. He had expected that. "Headmaster, I told you earlier that Peter
Pettigrew is currently hiding in his Animagus form. I have reason to believe that he is
currently in the possession of Ronald Weasley."
"What makes you say that?"
"Fudge gave me a copy of the Prophet. The Weasley family won some kind of drawing, and
they were pictured. Pettigrew was in that picture- I'd recognize his Animagus form anywhere."
"I will look into it. If we can present Pettigrew to the Ministry, Cornelius would be forced to lift
the order to have you Kissed."
"He will try to escape, Albus. Make sure you capture him before he gets a chance," Sirius said.
"In the meantime, would you place the Fidelius Charm on this house?" Sirius asked.
"I think that would be for the best. Harry will be staying here, correct?"
"Of course!" Sirius said vehemently.
"Everyone believes you are still living with your relatives, Harry. I see no reason to correct
that misconception," Dumbledore said, grinning. "I will place the Charm this evening. I am
willing to serve as Secret Keeper myself if you will allow it."
Daphne did not know how to explain how she felt about Harry Potter. She kept her distance
from everyone to prevent herself from being hurt, but she did not relish the fact that so few
people cared for her. It was an unfortunate tradeoff, she supposed. Nevertheless, the note she
received from Harry made her feel considerably better. She was relieved to know that anyone,
especially Harry, had missed her during her petrification.
She had become fiercely protective of him over the past year. She had no doubt that she
would destroy Draco Malfoy (or anyone else, for that matter) if he did something to harm
Harry. She had no idea what caused this protectiveness, but she did not necessarily mind.
She had felt protective of her sister before her grandmother's death. She still loved, Astoria,
but she kept her distance from her. It was unfortunate, but necessary.
She knew that she should push Harry Potter away as well. She had not had any trouble
distancing herself from her sister, so why could she not do the same with him?
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Albus Dumbledore looked up at the ramshackle home in front of him and hoped that he was
not too late. He walked briskly toward the front door and knocked on it three times. It was
opened almost immediately by a matronly looking redhead wearing an apron.
"Albus, what can I do for you?" she asked. "Care for some lunch?"
"I'm afraid this is not a social call, Molly. I need to speak with Ronald," Dumbledore said,
looking grave.
Molly frowned, "Has he done something else? Is this about the car?"
"No Molly, nothing like that," he reassured her. "I need to ask him about his pet rat."
She raised an eyebrow in confusion, but knew better than to question the wizened
Headmaster. "Of course. Make yourself at home." She walked into the house to find her
youngest son.
Albus wandered absentmindedly to the kitchen and took a seat at the table, hoping to find the
rat and have Sirius cleared before dinner.
Peter Pettigrew ran as fast as his animagus legs would allow away from the Burrow. He would
find his Master; he had no choice. Sirius Black had escaped prison, and now Dumbledore was
asking about the young Weasley's pet. What Wormtail lacked in ability as a wizard was made
up for by instinct and will to survive. He had not lived all these years as a rat only to be
destroyed now that Black was out of prison.
His Master would be angry with him, of that he was certain, but he would be rewarded for
being the first to return.
Ron Weasley walked nervously down the stairs to greet his Headmaster. He had been in more
than his fair share of detentions, but Dumbledore had never before visited him at home.
"Professor," he began, his palms becoming damp with perspiration, "Have I done something
wrong?"
Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "I would imagine so, Mr. Weasley, but that is now why I am
here." Ron released a deep breath. "I am here to see your rat. Please fetch him for me."
"Why do you need to see Scabbers?" Ron inquired.
"I must perform a simple test on the creature. If nothing is out of the ordinary, he will be
returned to you immediately," Dumbledore informed him.
Ron nodded his head slowly. "Alright. I'll go get him."
Several minutes later, Ron returned to the kitchen empty-handed. Dumbledore looked at him
inquiringly and he shrugged. "I couldn't find him."
Dumbledore nodded his head resignedly, his expression grave. He believed the boy to be
telling the truth. "Very well. Do let me know if you find him."
Dumbledore said his goodbyes and left the Burrow, feeling considerably worse than he had
only moments before.
He had initially avoided casting any spells to locate the rat, as they would have alerted
Pettigrew to his intentions. He had cast the spell anyway after the unsuccessful search.
Wormtail had fled.
Dumbledore had known all along that Voldemort would one day return. He held no illusions
that Pettigrew would do anything other than try to find his former Master.
Voldemort would likely be returning earlier than anticipated, and he feared what that would
mean for the world. In the end, it would come down to Voldemort and Harry. The latter had as
much potential as the former, but Dumbledore had been hoping for more time to train him to
ensure his survival.
Perhaps he would need to expedite his plans.
Harry Potter was having the best summer of his life. He was living with his Godfather, the
fugitive Sirius Black, at his ancestral home. He had connected with the man almost
immediately. He supposed they were two of a kind. He had been deprived of love for most of
his life, and had not known friendship until he met Hermione on the Hogwarts Express. Sirius
had been detested by his family because he did not accept their beliefs or uphold their
tradition. Like Harry, Sirius had always considered Hogwarts home.
They spent hours at a time talking. Harry told Sirius about his adventures during his first two
years at school, and Sirius regaled him with stories about his father and the pranks they
played while they attended Hogwarts.
The stories certainly helped Harry to understand Severus Snape. He still recalled the man's
strange behavior when they had first become acquainted. The Potions Master had seemed to
be terribly conflicted. He now knew that his father had spent the better part of seven years
tormenting the man, and Snape had reciprocated, heightening the rivalry. He considered
himself lucky that his professor had judged him on his own merits and not on any
preconceptions formed because of his father.
Since Grimmauld Place was a magical home, it was not traced by the Ministry. It would be up
to his guardian to ensure that he did not perform magic, and Sirius seemed disinclined to do
any sort of prevention. In fact, Sirius had agreed enthusiastically to help Harry practice his
dueling.
"It'll be great, Harry. Your father and I practiced dueling all the time. We were the two best
duelists in Hogwarts… Well, us and Snape," he reluctantly admitted.
They spent a great deal of time practicing. Filius had already taught Harry quite a bit about
the subject, but dueling was a skill best improved by repetition.
When they started, Harry had been thoroughly outclassed by his Godfather. Sirius was rusty
from his time spent in Azkaban, but his years of practice during school and against Death
Eaters in the First War were obvious. By the end of the summer, Harry was still not quite a
match for his Godfather, but it was a much closer contest. He would probably be able to
defeat him in a duel after another year under Filius' tutelage at Hogwarts.
He owled Hermione to tell her that he was no longer living with the Dursleys, but was unable
to be very specific. It would have been unwise to disclose his current living arrangements in a
letter. Her reply had indicated that she was frustrated at being kept out of the loop, but
understood the necessity.
Harry made his way to Diagon Alley as soon as his book list arrived. He was able to Floo to the
Leaky Cauldron from Grimmauld Place and avoid another trip on the Knight Bus. He hoped
Stan Shunpike would not miss him too terribly, as he planned to use other modes of
transportation whenever possible.
The trip was unexpectedly uneventful. He had hoped to run into Daphne again, but was unable
to find her.
The morning Harry was supposed to leave for Hogwarts, he rose early and ran downstairs for
breakfast. Sirius was a surprisingly early riser, and if Harry wanted his meal to be warm, he
had to wake up earlier than he ever did at school.
Sirius sat alone at the table, his eyes downcast. "It's going to be awfully lonely around here
without you, Harry."
Harry did not know how to feel about the apparent depression of his Godfather. He was
obviously saddened by Sirius' predicament, but it felt strangely wonderful that there was an
adult who was almost family who genuinely cared about him and valued his company. If only
that damned rat hadn't gotten away, he thought, Sirius would be able to bring me to King's
Cross.
After they finished eating, Sirius looked up suddenly, a grin plastered on his face. "How about
one last duel before we leave?"
Harry returned the smile and said, "I wondered when you'd ask. You know you won't be able
to beat me anymore by the time I get back home."
"You're on, kiddo," Sirius said, ruffling Harry's hair.
They made their way to the basement room Sirius had transformed into a dueling arena, and
bowed to each other formally. They began exchanging spells. The duel lasted for minutes with
Sirius slowly but surely forcing Harry back.
"Impedimenta!" Sirius yelled. The spell broke through Harry's shield and slowed his
movement. "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand was wrenched from his hand and Sirius snatched it
out of the air, grinning broadly.
Harry cursed under his breath. Refusing to accept defeat so easily, he extended his arm and
forced his magic to lash out, banishing Sirius into the wall on the far side of the room. The
older man grunted loudly as the burst of magic hit him in the gut.
Harry grimaced as he saw his godfather fly across the room. He had not meant to be so
rough. He ran over to check on his condition, worrying that he had harmed the man. "Sirius,
are you alright?"
He coughed as he opened his eyes and said, "Neat trick, that."
Harry grinned sheepishly, and told Sirius about his early experiences with magic and how he
had managed to reach his internal power.
Sirius had a rare contemplative look on his face as he listened to Harry's story. "I think you've
reached the limit of wandless magic, Harry. Very few people can do any of it at all.
Dumbledore can do a bit, but he can't send someone flying across the room like you just did."
"You don't think I'll be able to learn any more wandless magic?"
Sirius shook his head. "There's a reason wizards use wands. They amplify and focus our own
natural power. That you can do as much as you can without a wand is amazing. Damn useful
in a fight, too," he finished, grinning.
"Sure is," Harry said with a smirk. "Especially when your opponent thinks the fight is won."
"You know," Sirius said thoughtfully, "This may be why you have so much control over your
magic and so much raw power. I've never met a rising third year with so much ability."
Harry nodded his head. He had quite a bit of information to consider.
As Harry prepared to catch the Knight Bus (he wondered why King's Cross did not have a Floo
connection) Sirius caught him in a tight embrace. "You'd better not forget this," Sirius said,
reaching a hand into his robes and withdrawing a piece of parchment. "They won't let you into
Hogsmeade without a guardian's signed permission."
"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said, returning the embrace enthusiastically. He would truly miss his
Godfather at Hogwarts. "The holidays aren't too far from now. I'll be home before you know
it."
Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with a sigh, somehow wishing that he and Daphne could
have had some time together like they had last year. He wandered down the hallway looking
for Hermione.
He finally found her in a compartment with an older man wearing frayed robes. He was
sleeping soundly, but a battered case indicated that his name was RJ Lupin.
The pair hugged quickly before taking seats facing the sleeping man. "Who do you think he
is?" she asked, keeping her voice low out of consideration for the man.
Harry smiled viciously, "I'd wager he's the new Defense professor. Lockhart didn't seem too
keen on continuing after I blasted him at the dueling club."
Hermione giggled lightly, "No he didn't. He had a twitch," she said, pointing below her left eye,
"Right here. It was kind of hard to see, but he got it whenever he was around you."
Harry struggled to contain his laughter, hoping to avoid waking the professor. "How was your
summer, Hermione?"
"You first. I want to know why you aren't living with your relatives anymore."
Harry sighed. This was going to be a long story.
He told an abridged version of his summer, excluding the name of his Godfather and their
residence in case the sleeping professor overheard.
By the time he finished recounting the tale, the sun had faded beyond the horizon and a thick
cloud cover made the night especially dark.
Harry's instincts told him that something was amiss even before the train slowed down and
ground to a halt hours before they reached their destination. A sense of foreboding permeated
the air as the glass on the compartment door frosted over. An unnatural, cool breeze
circulated through the train. A feeling of dread and unease overcame him.
A stream of disjointed memories cycled through his vision.
He was on his back in the Chamber of Secrets, held under Tom Riddle's wand. Weak. Helpless.
Daphne was prone on a sterile hospital bed, her blue eyes looking forward but not seeing. So
lifeless.
He looked up at his Aunt Petunia. Uncaring. His relative, but never his family.
A woman, his mother, begged for his life to be spared, eyes shining with a mixture of fear and
love. Love for him. Extinguished forever by a jet of green light.
Daphne sat alone in a compartment near the back of the train, and found herself reliving the
horrors of her past.
She looked into a pair of bulbous yellow eyes in an old mirror, and then knew nothing.
She sat, too stunned to react, as a ball of metal and an explosive piece of magic crashed into
Harry.
She stood in front of her grandmother's casket. She was alone.
Her parents walked past her without even looking down. Never worth their time. Relations by
blood only.
"Dementors," Harry said, clutching his wand tightly. "It has to be dementors."
Hermione bit her lower lip nervously and ran her fingers through her hair. "Are you sure?"
Harry nodded, his face grim but determined. "I'm not going to let them into this
compartment." He raised his wand with some hesitation, recalling his earlier lessons with
Filius. Powered by emotions and happy memories, it was one of the few spells he had ever
struggled to cast. At the time, he had not possessed a memory capable of producing more
than a faint silver mist. He had not attempted this spell in a while, though he was confident
his new memory was going to work. "Expecto Patronum!" A brilliant silver stag burst forth
from his wand at the same moment the compartment door slid open. A dementor attempted
to glide into the compartment, but collided with the form of Harry's Patronus and was forced
back.
The feeling of dread slowly vacated the area as the dementor fled. Harry supposed he could
not have chosen a better time to successfully complete the spell. Silently, he willed the stag to
go help the others.
Daphne's vision returned to normal as an ethereal stag walked through the door she had
locked and stood beside her. Her guest could not have arrived at a more opportune moment,
she decided. Only moments before, she had felt herself losing consciousness.
The ordeal left her with two questions. Who had decided it would be wise to release dementors
on a train of school children, and whose Patronus had chased them away?
Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at Harry incredulously. "How did you do that? You
weren't able to manage the Patronus Charm last year!"
"I was using a new memory. I just remembered how it felt to learn I could live with my
Godfather."
On hearing that, RJ Lupin's eyes shot open. The effect of the dementors had, apparently,
awakened him.
"My apologies Mister Potter, but I was under the impression you were living with your Muggle
relatives."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "How is that any of your concern, Mister Lupin?"
Lupin sighed, afraid that he had ruined his relationship with Harry before it had a chance to
get started. "My apologies, but I happen to know your Godfather."
"How do you know him?" he asked with some genuine curiosity. This man looked too old to
have gone to school with his father and Sirius.
"We were friends at one time. At least, I thought we were."
Sirius had told Harry countless stories from his Hogwarts days- stories about James, Sirius,
Remus, and Peter. His Godfather tried to minimize the rat's roles in most of his stories, but
could not always get around mentioning him. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew.
He only knew the traitor's full name because Sirius had used it under Veritaserum. He tried to
recall the surname of the other friend. He looked down at the man's case. RJ Lupin. Could this
possibly be Remus? Harry asked himself.
"Mr. Lupin, there is a very common misconception about my Godfather's past. Perhaps you
should ask the Headmaster about his history when you have a chance."
Lupin's eyes widened as he heard Harry defend the traitor. What's happening? Does
Dumbledore know something about this? "I'll do that as soon as we get to Hogwarts."
The rest of the trip went by quickly. Harry and Hermione attempted to make conversation with
the man they confirmed to be their new Defense professor, but Harry decided to keep his
distance from this man until he learned more about him. The professor had been very
impressed by Harry's corporeal Patronus.
Harry walked with Hermione to the carriages they would ride to the castle. They were pulled,
he noticed, by skeletal, winged horses. His unorthodox arrival at the castle during his second
year meant that this would be his first time riding one of the carriages.
His study of magical creatures was somewhat limited, as he and Hermione had decided to
forgo Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, and he had never before seen such an animal.
"What are the things pulling the carriages, Hermione?"
"They're thestrals. Brilliant creatures, but they frighten most people. You can't see them
unless you've seen someone die."
"Quirrel," he said, knowing they had both seen him die.
She inclined her head slightly. "Yes."
Daphne sat at the end of the Slytherin table during the Welcome Feast. No one had tried to sit
next to her this year. She took particular pleasure in seeing Draco Malfoy walk past her
quickly, avoiding eye contact. She had struggled to suppress her laughter when the boy
fearfully avoided her. She supposed he had taken their last conversation to heart.
She sighed as she considered the upcoming school year. She would visit the Mirror tonight,
she decided. And perhaps I can see it again tomorrow night if I skip Astronomy.
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Harry and Hermione both decided to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as their electives.
While they did not consider the classes to be among their favorites, they did find them
enjoyable. Hermione appreciated the intellectual challenge of the courses, and Harry valued
the ways in which they could be practically applied to other courses.
Ancient Runes, in particular, provided him with a better understanding of how magic actually
functioned, and that knowledge was capable of making him more powerful.
Harry's first lesson with Filius was far more intense than his previous instruction under the
jovial Charms Master had been.
"Due to recent events, the Headmaster has asked me to advance your instruction," he said,
with a slight frown on his face. "Are you ready for that?" Harry nodded. "I'm afraid you may
not understand what this means. I will no longer be teaching you dueling techniques or even
anything from the Hogwarts curriculum. I will be teaching you how to fight- how to maim or, if
necessary, kill. Can you handle that?"
Harry's face was set with grim determination. "Yes, sir."
"Poppy will be observing all our lessons, as we will be using everything short of lethal force
against each other."
It was a battered Harry Potter who returned to his dorm that night. The school matron had
healed most of his numerous wounds, and he was pleased to see that the Charms Master had
not fared much better. His lessons with Sirius had really paid dividends.
The next day was his first lesson with Professor Lupin. The man had not spoken with him since
their conversation on the train, and Harry wondered if he had talked with the Headmaster.
"Good morning class," Lupin said with a kind smile. "Put your quills away. We'll be starting
with a practical session." The class broke out in excited whispers, wondering if this would be
anything like Lockhart's first and only practical lesson. "If you'll follow me."
The class assembled in a room Harry had not yet visited. Lupin walked to the front of the
room and stood beside a dilapidated chest. "Are any of you familiar with boggarts?"
He proceeded to tell them that the chest held a boggart and what they were to do when he
released it.
"Who's first?"
Most of the class rushed forward, but Harry stood back in contemplation. What is my worst
fear? he asked himself. He remembered his experience with the dementors earlier in the year.
Were his worst memories also his worst fears? He hated those memories, despised them even,
but no, he did not fear them. The past was fixed- there was no reason to fear it. He rubbed his
chin thoughtfully, trying to determine what he feared most.
His thoughts were interrupted as he was pushed forward by one of his fellow Ravenclaws,
Boot, he believed.
The boggart, which was currently in the form of a thestral with leaden wings, fixed its eyes on
Harry and began to shift.
The result of its seamless metamorphosis left Harry confused. The boggart had taken the
shape of Hermione. Why does it think I'm afraid of Hermione? He looked more carefully at the
boggart-Hermione and saw a look that he had never before seen on his best friend's face- a
look of pure, undisguised loathing.
He reeled back and the boggart shifted again. The bushy brown hair and brown eyes of his
best friend were replaced by the dark black locks and cobalt eyes of Daphne Greengrass. She
glared directly at him, and there was nothing playful about the glare. This Daphne despised
him.
He took another step back, and the boggart changed again. It assumed the form of his
Godfather, who stared down at him. His look was not one of hatred, but one of indifference. It
was the same stare he had received from the Dursleys for over a decade. It was a look that
said his Godfather did not give a damn about him and could never love him.
On seeing the boggart take the shape of Sirius Black, Professor Lupin leapt in front of Harry.
Sirius disappeared to be replaced with a full moon, which he quickly vanquished. "Alright,
class. That's all for today."
Lupin walked beside Harry as he was leaving the room. "Harry, would you stay behind for a
moment?"
Harry nodded absently, silently cursing himself for his earlier inaction. He knew that the
boggart would bring his worst fears to life, but he had not been prepared for it. "What is it,
Professor?"
Lupin placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Harry.
Wizards much more experienced than you have been reduced to nothing in the face of a
boggart."
"Yes, sir," Harry said without enthusiasm.
"I mean it, Harry. I believe you could have defeated the creature, but I couldn't risk giving the
rest of the class time to recognize your Godfather."
Harry looked up at the man. "So, you do know Sirius, then?"
Lupin chuckled mirthlessly, "Of course. We were best friends, after all."
"You're Remus," Harry stated.
"Yes, I am. I've spoken with the Headmaster about your living arrangements. About Sirius."
Harry nodded for him to continue. For the first time, Remus looked nervous, but there was
something more. He was ashamed. "When you see him again… Tell him that Moony is sorry
for not believing in him."
"He'll forgive you, Professor."
"I know he will, but I don't know if I can forgive myself."
Harry hesitated a moment, knowing his next question could upset the man even more.
"Professor, from all of Sirius' stories, I know that the four of you were best friends at school.
Everyone thought Sirius had betrayed my parents and that Pettigrew was dead, so it's obvious
why I didn't live with them. Why didn't you take me?"
Remus sighed at Harry's question, but knew it was a fair one. "I must ask you not to tell
anyone what I'm about to reveal to you. Do I have your word?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have a condition, Harry," he started. He paused for a second, and decided to get straight to
the point. "I am a werewolf."
That explains the moon, Harry thought. "Wouldn't have been any worse than the Dursleys," he
joked.
Remus chuckled, relieved that Harry did not seem to care about his disease. "Perhaps not.
Well, you'd better get to your next class. Wouldn't want to be late." As Harry left the room,
Remus ran his hands through his thinning hair, anticipating his next meeting with Sirius Black.
Severus Snape walked briskly to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had summoned him,
telling him that it was urgent.
"Severus, please have a seat," Dumbledore said softly.

"What's this about, Albus?"
"Voldemort will be returning much sooner than we had anticipated." Snape sighed, having
expected something like that. "When he does, you need to return to him immediately. Your
position cannot be jeopardized."
Snape nodded. "I understand."
"I have begun assembling the old crew. We must be ready. Filius is already instructing Harry
on fighting, but it would be beneficial if you assisted. There are certain areas of magic you are
more… uniquely suited to teach. Will you help him?"
"Yes."
The excitement was palpable on the morning of Harry's first Hogsmeade visit. He had done a
bit of exploring in Diagon Alley, but he had never even visited the wizarding village.
He and Hermione awoke early that crisp October morning and made the trip to the village.
They went to Honeydukes and purchased their fill of sweets, before going to the Three
Broomsticks for Butterbeers.
They headed back to the castle early in the afternoon, already tired of what the village had to
offer. It was nice to be outside the castle, but Hogsmeade did not compare favorably to
Diagon Alley.
The trip was uneventful. Draco Malfoy had glared at Harry and Hermione, but walked off
heatedly when they did not say anything. For some reason, he seemed reluctant to take any
action against Harry.
Lord Voldemort detested his current form. It was too weak- too fragile. But he knew it was
one step closer to the body he had once possessed, so he was willing to accept it, for the time
being.
He looked down from his chair at the quivering man who kneeled before him. "Rise, Wormtail.
Is everything going as planned?"
"Yes, Master," Pettigrew said, his voice quavering.
"Very good. You will bring me Harry Potter, and I shall rise again," Voldemort said, cackling.
"Are you ready to perform the ritual?"
"Yes, Master."
"You have retrieved my wand?"
Wormtail collapsed onto his knees again, reaching a pudgy hand into his robe and retrieving
the wand of yew. He outstretched his hand to the childlike body of Voldemort, who took his
wand reverently.
"You have done well, Wormtail. You shall be rewarded." Voldemort laughed maliciously as he
plotted his course of action. "Harry Potter will not have a fourth year at Hogwarts."
Harry decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. He had never before returned to Privet
Drive for Christmas, and did not want to arouse suspicion by going back to Grimmauld Place
for the break. He had mailed Sirius about his decision. His Godfather was upset, but agreed
with Harry's reasoning. Fortunately, Hermione agreed to stay at Hogwarts with him.
Harry spent most of the break studying apparition. The theory behind it was simple enough-
destination, determination, deliberation. He was confident in his ability to actually apparate,
but he would not have an opportunity to actually practice it. Apparition within Hogwarts was
impossible, and he would prefer to attempt it with someone else, in case something went
wrong. He would be out of luck if he splinched himself in Hogsmeade. He decided to wait until
the summer so Sirius could help him.
He was worried about Daphne. Her hair was tangled and she had dark circles under her eyes.
Harry would have guessed that she had been forsaking sleep for the sake of studying, but he
knew that her marks were also suffering. He considered Daphne to be a friend, one of his only
friends in fact, though he was not sure what she thought of him, so he would try to find out
what was wrong with her.
Another Hogsmeade visit was scheduled for the students staying at the castle. Harry was not
particularly excited about this one, but decided to visit the village anyway. The castle was
dreadfully boring with most of the students gone.
"So, when will I get to meet your Godfather?" Hermione asked, as they walked toward the
Three Broomsticks.
"This summer, probably. Do you really think your parents would let you visit?" He felt guilty
about not telling her who his Godfather was, but he did not know how to reveal it without
giving her a heart attack. His real worry was that if he told her, others would find out as well.
He did trust her, but Sirius was safer if less people knew.
"Of course they would. They're always telling me to get out of the house more."
The pair made their way inside the pub, and sat down at a table near the back. They
overheard a hushed conversation going on at a table near them. Cornelius Fudge and
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had not noticed them arrive.
"We need to tell him," Filius said. "He's ready to know. He deserves to know."
"No," Fudge ordered. "He must not find out. We can't have him going on a search for Black."
"Harry Potter is mature beyond his years," McGonagall said. "He can handle the truth."
"That may be the case, but we can't take the risk of telling him that Sirius Black is the reason
his parents are dead," Fudge said with conviction.
"The man is his Godfather," Filius reminded the Minister. "He has a right to know his family's
history."
Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she stared at Harry. As her shock wore off, her eyes
narrowed. "Why didn't you tell me that your Godfather is Sirius Black?" she asked, her voice
filled with quiet anger.
Harry spent the rest of their visit to the pub explaining his current situation, and why he had
not yet told her about the status of his Godfather. She was still angry, but at least understood
his position.
"Harry," Remus began after a Defense class, "Would you mind staying for a bit?"
"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked curiously, after the other students had left.
"I confiscated a rather unusual piece of parchment from a couple of Gryffindors. It is

something that I think should belong to you?"
Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"
"I think it would be best if I showed you." He went back to his desk and removed a yellowed
piece of parchment. He pointed his wand at it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." It
changed before Harry's eyes to a glorious map, the Marauder's Map, displaying the entire
castle and all its occupants' current locations.
"Wow," he said, his voice filled with awe.
"Wow, indeed. Use it wisely," he instructed, pointing his wand back at the map. "Mischief
managed."
Harry sat on his bed late that night with the curtains closed around him, staring at the
Marauder's Map. The detail was simply extraordinary. The only thing missing, as far as he
could tell, was the Chamber of Secrets, and there would have been no way for any of the
Marauders to discover it.
His eyes scanned over the parchment, examining the rooms he had not known existed. He
looked at the third floor corridor, the room where he had encountered the three-headed dog
his first year. His eyes traced the path he had ran that night and found the room where he
discovered the Mirror of Erised. In that room currently, was a dot labeled "Daphne
Greengrass."
Harry ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. I knew something was wrong. I should
have realized, he thought. I have to help her.
He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and made his way to the Mirror Room, where he was now
convinced Daphne had been spending most of her time.
He walked up behind Daphne and removed the Cloak quickly, expecting to startle her. No
reaction. "How's it going Greengrass?" Daphne did not respond, or even acknowledge his
presence. Harry kneeled down in front of her, and looked into her blue eyes. They were glazed
over, and unaware of his presence, unaware even that he had blocked her view of the Mirror.
"You in there, Greengrass?" he asked. Nothing.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and shook her lightly. No response. Harry was truly worried
now. "Come on, Daphne. I know you can see me. Answer me, please," he pleaded, a tear
rolling down his cheek. She did not seem to notice. Harry's mind traveled back to the first time
he had seen her after she had been petrified. The memory was eerily similar to the Daphne he
was currently looking at, yet quite different. When she was petrified, she had been frozen-
almost locked in her own body. Now, she seemed to be catatonic. The real similarity was in
her eyes. In both instances, her eyes looked lifeless.
"Please Daphne, come back to us. Come back to me," he whispered, shaking her more
forcefully. He considered destroying the Mirror, but remembered Dumbledore's words.
There are some problems we must solve for ourselves, Harry. I did Miss Greengrass a
disservice by removing the Mirror last year.
She has to do it herself, he thought.
He embraced her, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please Daphne, fight this." He looked at
her eyes again, just in time to see them snap back into focus.
She looked around quickly, as if just noticing her surroundings. "You can let go of me now,
Potter."
Harry blushed, and immediately released her. They both stood up. "You've got to destroy it,
Greengrass."
Daphne's eyes widened in terror at the idea, before she sighed and nodded in resignation.
"You're right. It almost had me that time." She looked at him, her posture conveying her fear.
"Will you help me?" she asked, her voice small.
Harry nodded. "Always."
Daphne pointed her wand at the Mirror, and Harry followed suit. With two identical yells of
"Reducto!" the Mirror exploded in a shower of glass.
Daphne looked down at the tiny shards of glass and looked back up at Harry. She took a
tentative step toward him, and small smile on her lips, before her face became confused. She
examined Harry carefully, before glaring at him and running out of the room.
Harry sat on the floor, not even noticing the glass that cut into his palms. That glare was the
same as the boggart's.
Daphne collapsed onto her bed, feeling more confused than she ever remembered being. The
Mirror, Potter, Dumbledore, her grandmother- disjointed images circled through her mind, but
everything came back to her own weakness. If only she had been stronger, this whole
situation could have been avoided. Though, she thought, it was rather nice to regain
consciousness in Potter's arms. She squashed that thought immediately.
She knew that she did not blame Potter for any of this mess. If anything, he had saved her.
But she could not stand the way he made her feel so vulnerable. After the Mirror was
destroyed, she had almost kissed him, which was something she could not allow. She could
not allow herself to need another person.
She would have to stay away from him in order to protect herself, even if she hated herself for
it. There was no other way. But is it really worth it?
Harry went through the motions for the next few weeks. Whenever he saw Daphne, she would
refuse to meet his gaze. He was saddened to see that all the progress he had made with her
was, seemingly, gone.
His lessons with Filius had trained him into a proper fighter. He was regularly getting the
better of the Charms Master during their fights.
Snape had joined them on a few occasions, and taught Harry some darker aspects of magic.
Filius was brilliant, but he had never delved into the Dark Arts like Snape. The Potions Master
also taught him silent spellcasting. He was not yet a master in the art, but was more capable
than many people ever became.
Harry suspected he would be training with Dumbledore during his fourth year. As skilled as his
professors were, he was surpassing them.
Wormtail was fortunate to know the secrets of the castle as well as he did. He snuck through
the cellar at Honeydukes and made his way inside Hogwarts in his Animagus form. He crawled
to the base of Ravenclaw tower and waited for someone to open the damned passageway. He
was never clever enough to answer any riddles himself.
When a younger Ravenclaw entered the tower alone, Wormtail sprinted in behind him, careful
to avoid the people in the tower. He quickly found the dormitory for third year boys, and
dashed inside. He changed into his human form and cast a disillusionment charm as quietly as
he could manage. He had never mastered silent spellcasting. He found the trunk with Harry's
initials and sifted through it, finding a well-worn course book. He pointed his wand at the book
and mouthed, "Portus." He placed the book back in the trunk and changed back into his
Animagus form to make his escape and return to his Master.
Harry awoke to a sense of foreboding. Today was not going to be a good day. He went
through his morning routine, keeping his wand on his person the entire time. He went to his
trunk to grab the books he would need for the day. That his trunk had been rearranged hardly
had time to register in his mind before he picked up the first book and felt a tug behind his
naval.
A portkey, Harry realized, as he observed his new surroundings. He was standing in an

overgrown graveyard, with an imposing manor in the background. The place had not been
cared for in many years. It was day, but imposing storm clouds kept it relatively dark. Rain
pounded down on the cemetery.
In the distance, Harry saw a figure carrying a bundle in its arms approaching him. Near them
sat a simmering cauldron, protected from the rain by a magical shield.
"Harry Potter," the bundle wheezed.
"Sorry to just drop in like this," Harry said.
"I am glad you could join us here. You shall give me new life, along with the bones of my
Muggle father, and the flesh of Wormtail here."
Immediately, Harry realized who was speaking to him. "This again, Tom? Are we going to go
through the conversation about how we're so similar, or are we going to skip ahead to the
fight?"
The Dark Lord chuckled, "Seize him, Wormtail, but do not kill him. That privilege is mine."
Wormtail sat Voldemort on the ground slowly, careful to make sure he was comfortable.
By the time Pettigrew turned to face Harry, he was already the target of spellfire.
A thin beam of purple light erupted from Harry's wand. Harry cast the spell silently, but
Wormtail recognized it as a Rupturing Curse, something which would have likely killed him
quite painfully if it made contact. He dove to the ground, doubting his ability to shield against
the curse.
Wormtail was unable to regain his footing quickly, and Harry took advantage of his poor
positioning. "Perfringo!" A sickly bolt of orange collided with the older man's shoulder and
shattered the bones.
Wormtail cried out in pain, and considered fleeing, but cast a surreptitious look at his Master
and knew that was not an option. He rose shakily to his feet, and pointed his wand at the son
of his former best friend. "Stupefy!"
Harry silently erected a magical shield which absorbed the spell easily, before pointing his
wand at the man's legs and returning fire. "Confringo!"
The explosive piece of magic hurtled at Wormtail who tried to shield, knowing he would be
unable to avoid the explosion. "Protego!" The mist-like shield was overpowered by Harry's
spell which collided with Wormtail's lower body. Harry felt the shockwave of his spell before he
saw Pettigrew collapse to the ground, his useless limbs no longer able to support his weight.
Wormtail sobbed loudly as he looked at what had once been a functional set of legs. Master
will fix them after I capture the boy, he thought. Wormtail pointed his wand across his body to
try again.
"Discerpo," Harry intoned, pointing his wand at the traitor's wand hand. Wormtail's pitiable
screams became louder as his hand was severed from his arm. The last thing Peter Pettigrew
saw before he lost consciousness from blood loss was his Master taking aim with his yew
wand.
As soon as Wormtail had been dispatched, Harry was overcome by an intense, paralyzing pain
in his scar and was consumed by a rage that was not his own. He knew he would not be able
to fight in his present condition and that he had to escape. Destination, Determination,
Deliberation. He focused his full attention on the Hogwarts gates.
Just as Harry disappeared from the graveyard, he heard the Dark Lord shout, "Diffindo," and
felt the burst of magic slice into his arm.
He reappeared in front of the Hogwarts gates, just as he had intended. His first attempt at
apparition had been successful, and as far as he could tell he had not left any part of himself
behind. The crippling pain he had experienced moments earlier had lifted when he escaped the
Dark Lord's presence. He inspected the cut on his arm, and determined that, though the injury
was bleeding, it was very minor. The Dark Lord was in a critically weakened state.
Harry began sprinting up the hill toward Hogwarts to tell the Headmaster what had happened.
Lord Voldemort was furious. Harry Potter had escaped his clutches again, and to make matters
worse, he had nearly killed his only servant. He was now forced to use all the magic he had
available to him to keep the rodent alive. Cursing the boy had taken its toll on him, but the
action had been necessary. He needed the blood of his foe, after all.
Wormtail had already lost one hand and would likely lose both of his legs, though the Dark
Lord believed he would be able to mend them temporarily. Beyond that, Pettigrew was of little
use to him.
Though Voldemort's power was severely limited, his magical knowledge was still intact.
Healing was difficult, not because it required a substantial amount of power, but because it
took extensive practice to master. Voldemort waved his wand at his servant, who was slowly
regaining consciousness. Pettigrew's wounds were by no means healed, but he would be able
to serve his purpose.
"Finish the ritual, Wormtail. You will find Potter's blood on the ground over there," he said,
pointing a skeletal finger at the place where Harry had been struck.
Pettigrew groaned in pain as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He collected his Lord and placed
him in the cauldron he had prepared. He used a bone from Voldemort's Muggle father, the
blood his Master had taken from Potter, and his own hand that had been cursed. The cauldron
smoked and bubbled after the ingredients had been added. When the smoke cleared,
Voldemort had risen again.
Harry pounded furiously on the Headmaster's door. He wondered if anyone had missed him
this morning, though he doubted it. He had not been gone any more than an hour.
"Enter."
Harry rushed through the door, and Dumbledore immediately noticed his disheveled, bloodied
appearance. "What has happened, Harry?"
"Voldemort. Voldemort and Pettigrew. They portkeyed me to some graveyard. I fought him,
Pettigrew, that is. They were trying to bring Voldemort back to life-"
"My dear boy, you are rambling. Would you provide me with the memory to review in my
Pensieve?"
Harry nodded once, and brought his wand to his temple to collect the memory. He placed the
silver strand in the Pensieve that Dumbledore had placed on his desk, and the Headmaster
immediately began viewing the memory. Harry managed to collect himself while Dumbledore
was viewing his fight.
Moments later, Dumbledore emerged, his face looking grave. "I fear that Voldemort has
returned."
"What do you mean? I beat Pettigrew, and escaped from them."
"You performed admirably, Harry, but the ritual Voldemort planned required your blood. He
took that as you were leaving."
Harry's eyes widened as he realized that Dumbledore was right. "What can we do?"
"We will attempt to prevent him from gaining the level of power he had during the last war. I
have already gathered the Order of the Phoenix, an organization dedicated to the eradication
of Voldemort and his followers."
"Can I join, sir?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment, considering his answer. "I believe so, yes. The Order will
be using Grimmauld Place as its Headquarters, so you will be able to attend meetings this
summer. I will keep you informed during the school year."
Harry nodded, glad that he was being allowed to participate in the coming war, but he had one
more concern. "Professor, I don't think I can fight Voldemort right now. He was very weak
today, but he was able to torture me through my scar. I felt his anger."
Dumbledore's eyes widened momentarily. "You have previously expressed interest in learning
Occlumency. I believe the time for your instruction in the art has arrived."
"Will that keep Voldemort from using my scar against me?"
"I do not believe he realized that your scar caused you pain today, Harry. And I believe that if
you learn Occlumency, he will lose that advantage in the future."
The rest of the year passed in a surprisingly uneventful fashion, in that there were no further
attempts on his life. Voldemort was staying off the radar, and not yet causing any trouble.
He went through his exams, and he and Hermione once again fought for the top spot in each
of their classes.
As Harry climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express, he finally managed to catch Daphne
Greengrass' eye. The look she gave him was not one of malice, or even anger. She looked…
regretful. It did not match the smile she had given him at the end of the previous year, but it
was an improvement.
He and Hermione found a compartment and began recounting stories from the last three
years. Harry was going to miss Hogwarts this summer, but at least he would get to see Sirius
again. For the first time in his life, he had something to look forward to during the holidays.
He stepped aboard the Knight Bus, wishing that Sirius could have picked him up or that he
could have apparated to Grimmauld Place. Sirius was still a fugitive, and it would not be
proper for an underage wizard to be seen apparating, so he reluctantly paid Stan Shunpike
another visit.
Daphne had spent the latter part of the school year trying to undo the damage that had been
done to her marks by the Mirror's influence. She was thankful to be free of its control.
Her only real problem now was Harry Potter. She had tried to push him away, like she had
done with everyone else. With the rest of the world, the process had been all too easy, but
she was finding it increasingly difficult to stay away from Harry. She missed their playful
banter and the closeness they were slowly establishing.
She spent a good deal of her time regretting her decision to push him away, and knew she
would not be able to keep up her charade forever. If he did not come to her seeking
reconciliation, she would likely go to him and ask for forgiveness.
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silentclock
Author of 3 Stories
Severus Snape sat alone in his home at Spinner's End. His Dark Mark had been growing
darker over the past weeks, and he expected his former Master to call him at any moment. He
remembered Dumbledore's request that he return to Voldemort whenever he called. As much
as he detested his work as a spy, he knew it was needed, and would do as Dumbledore
wished.
When he felt his Mark start to burn, he apparated to Voldemort, and found himself in the
sitting room of what was once an impressive manor house. A faded bronze chandelier hung
above a worn Oriental rug in the center of the room. The Dark Lord stood in the far corner,
observing his followers with his crimson red eyes. He stood taller than all his Death Eaters,
dressed in resplendent black robes, and holding his yew wand loosely at his side.
Peter Pettigrew cowered in Voldemort's shadow. He was missing a hand, and standing
unsteadily, as if he were not used to it. Snape surmised that Voldemort had not been kind to
the man after his failure in the graveyard.
"It has been too long, my friends," said Voldemort, his voice smooth and even. "For thirteen
years, I roamed the world as less than a ghost. For thirteen years, none of you sought to aid
in my return. Was I not a benevolent Master?"
"I came back," Pettigrew offered, groveling at his Master's feet.
"Out of fear, not loyalty Wormtail," he said, looking down at the rat. He looked back up to
address his assembled servants. "You, my most faithful followers, knew I had conquered
death. Yet, none of you sought me. Have you so easily forsaken the old ways? What of you,
Macnair?" Voldemort asked, stepping toward one of the men, who immediately went prostrate.
"Is putting down wild beasts at the Ministry's command all that you desire?"
"No, my Lord," he said softly.
"Severus," Voldemort stood in front of Snape, who fell to his knees, "my most trusted servant.
The old fool still believes you to be loyal to him, does he not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Excellent. We shall use that to our advantage." He rubbed his chin, considering who to
address next, before walking silently in front of another man, who bowed before his Lord. "Ah,
Lucius. I hear you are a respectable businessman now." He stared coldly into Malfoy's eyes. "I
offer my apologies for placing you under the Imperius Curse all those years ago, though from
my recollection, you seemed to serve quite willingly."
"I had no choice, my Lord," he said, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. "I would have been
imprisoned."
"My most faithful were imprisoned," he said, "Though that shall be remedied shortly. You have
forsaken me, Lucius. Why should I spare you? Have you used your freedom to advance our
noble cause?"
"Yes," he stammered, "My position at the Ministry is secure."
"You have sway with the Minister?" Voldemort asked, caressing his wand. Lucius nodded
fervently. "Have you learned anything that can benefit us?"
"Yes, my Lord. It is a tightly kept secret, but Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard
Tournament this year. It will be an opportune moment to strike."
Voldemort was silent for a moment as he considered the opportunity. He nodded slowly and
said, "That will fit into my plans." He walked away from Lucius and to the center of the room.
He gazed at his followers, his gaze unnerving many of them. "Go now, my Death Eaters, but
be ready. We shall have made our first move before the end of the summer."
Snape apparated away from the manor house to Grimmauld Place to tell Dumbledore about
what had transpired.
"He seemed to be interested in the Tournament, Headmaster. What do you think he is

planning?"
"I do not know, Severus," he said with a soft sight, "But we must be alert. We will need to be
more careful. Voldemort trusts you more now than he did before his fall. The information he
gives you will be more sensitive than that which he gave last time."
On Harry's first day back at Grimmauld Place, he and Sirius had dueled. His Godfather was
capable in a fight, but Harry outclassed him now. Sirius had been incredibly proud, but Harry
was sad that his Godfather could not teach him anything more.
As promised, Snape had visited to practice Occlumency.
"Occlumency is an obscure and difficult branch of magic. The key is compartmentalization. If

your mind is organized, and free from emotion, a legilimens will be unable to successfully
navigate it. Masters of the craft can prevent a legilimens from knowing it is being employed.
After this step is mastered, you will work on shielding your thoughts. Clear your mind of
emotions."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you ready?" Harry nodded. "Legilimens!" Harry felt images of his past being pulled to the
front of his mind.
Harry sat on his bed, cowering away from his cousin's beefy fist, before magically throwing
the larger boy across his small bedroom.
He stood victorious over Wormtail's broken body, but had no time to enjoy his triumph as his
world darkened in pain.
His lay helplessly on the ground, his arm broken, as a Bludger soared toward his head.
He held Daphne's still body close to him in front of the Mirror of Erised, terrified that he had
lost her forever.
No, Harry thought, That's private. "Clear your mind of emotions," he remembered hearing
Snape say. He stopped focusing on the feelings he associated with his memories, and
gradually, his mind became free of emotions. The memories stopped.
"Again," Snape said. "Legilimens!"
Daphne smiled prettily, taking a step toward him before glaring at him and running away.
Harry looked at Daphne from across the Great Hall and she looked away as soon as she
noticed his gaze.
Harry allowed the feeling of hurt he associated with these images to fade and the memories
stopped.
"Acceptable," Snape said, "For a first lesson. We will continue at a later date."
Albus Dumbledore stood before his staff as they discussed the upcoming year at Hogwarts.
"As some of you have already heard," he said, his eyes twinkling, "Hogwarts will be hosting
the Triwizard Tournament. Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in
October."
"Albus," Professor McGonagall began, "Isn't the Tournament supposed to be dangerous?"

"Yes, Minerva, it is. That is why I will personally draw an age line around the Goblet of Fire to
prevent any underage students from entering their names." He looked at the rest of the
teachers. "The other schools will only be bringing students old enough to compete in the
Tournament, so only the NEWT level courses will have additional students.
"Severus, Filius, I would like to thank you for the additional work you have done with Harry. I
would ask that you continue instructing him in Occlumency and advanced Charms, but I will
begin teaching him dueling this year."
"Yes, Headmaster," they both said.
After the meeting had concluded, Snape approached the Headmaster. "Albus, the Dark Lord
has given me a… disturbing mission."
"What is it, Severus?"
"I am to enter Harry in the Tournament," he said with a sigh.
"Has Voldemort told you how to go about this?" Dumbledore asked.
"He recommended Confunding the Goblet and entering him under a fourth school."
"I believe that would prove to be successful, Severus."
"What should I do, Albus?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.
"I will discuss this with Harry. If he consents, you must do as Voldemort requested. We cannot
afford to have you exposed."
"What about Harry?"
"He is a very capable young man- the most capable duelist we have enrolled. He would likely
be chosen on his own merits if he were allowed to enter. Nevertheless, I shall do everything in
my power to make sure that he gets through the tournament unharmed. I will not allow any
harm to befall him," Dumbledore said confidently. Internally, however, he was very nervous.
He knew that the Dark Lord was planning something, but could not afford to lose his only spy
within the Death Eaters. He could not, in good conscience, ask someone from the Order to join
their ranks. He would gladly accept any Death Eater turncoats, but they were generally
reluctant to come to him. Severus had, in fact, been the only one to find him.
He needed the information Severus provided through his position, so he would reluctantly
allow Harry to participate in the Tournament, and protect him at any cost.
Remus Lupin walked nervously up the steps to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, preparing to
see his best friend again. Under most circumstances, he would have been looking forward to
the reunion. However, for the past thirteen years, he had believed that Sirius Black had
betrayed his other friends. He had grown to hate Sirius, and for that, he hated himself.
When Dumbledore told him of Sirius' innocence, his first reaction had been disbelief. The
evidence against him was overwhelming. After Dumbledore had explained Sirius' story,
everything had fallen into place. The fact that Sirius was never given a trial further proved the
point.
His disbelief had turned into excitement. He had his best friend back! For that past twelve
years, he had believed that everyone he had ever cared for was dead. He cared about Harry,
he supposed, but he had not spent any time with the child since Lily and James were killed.
Sirius' innocence changed his entire existence.
That excitement soon became disgust. He had turned his back on his only remaining friend,
without ever hearing his side of the story. He knew Sirius would forgive him, but did not think
he deserved it.
He walked into the kitchen, and saw Sirius sitting alone at the table. "Padfoot."
Sirius looked up from his breakfast and saw the only real friend he had left. "Moony."
Remus slouched a bit at the cold greeting. "I'm so sorry, Sirius. I never should have believed
you could-"
Sirius raised a hand, gesturing for him to stop. "Say no more, Remus," he said, as he stood up
and rushed to embrace his friend. Everything was going to be alright.
Daphne stood with her family in the forest outside of the Quidditch World Cup. It was
important for her family to be seen interacting with high society at major events such as the
World Cup. Her parents did not have to speak with her, so long as they were seen together.
She thought she saw Harry and Dumbledore walking to the top box, but she was not sure. She
had wanted to greet him, and had been forced to restrain herself.
Her family found their seats, slightly lower in the packed stadium. She sighed softly as the
game started. She did not particularly care for Quidditch.
Harry and Dumbledore sat in the top box at the Quidditch World Cup at the Minister for
Magic's request. He looked around the box and saw a house elf, presumably saving a seat for
her master. He noticed three empty seats near the Minister, and saw that the Weasley family
was also there. He did not care for their youngest children, but the parents were loyal
members of the Order.
"Albus, Harry, so glad you could make it," said the Minister.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Cornelius?" asked Dumbledore.
Fudge shook his head sadly, and said, "Truth be told, Albus, I've heard some rather disturbing
rumors."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Apparently, you and Dumbledore are under the impression that He is back. He's not. He can't
be. I must ask that you stop spreading this… this story."
Dumbledore sighed. He had expected something like this. "I will do what I must, and I expect
you to do the same."
Fudge scowled, but said nothing further. They watched the game in what Harry considered to
be an awkward silence, though Dumbledore seemed cheery and oblivious to his discomfort.
Harry was only a casual fan of Quidditch, but the match was fantastic. Viktor Krum was,
without a doubt, the best flier he had ever seen. He considered himself to be a fair flier, but
knew he was outclassed by the Bulgarian. The man looked like he was born on a broom, as he
flew around the pitch with reckless abandon.
His skill, however, did not seem to be enough to enable the Bulgarians to win. The Irish
Chasers were superb, and made their Bulgarian counterparts look foolish. By the time Krum
managed to catch the Snitch, the game was already out of reach.
Barty Crouch Junior sat beside his house elf, under an Invisibility Cloak in the top box at the
Quidditch World Cup. He had managed to break his father's Imperius Curse (he would kill the
man for imprisoning him and trying to take away his free will), and was finally free. He
overheard the Minister for Magic speaking with Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter. They did
not mention his Master's name, but the implications were clear. Potter and Dumbledore knew
that the Dark Lord was back, and the Ministry was denying it.
He, of course, knew when he felt his Dark Mark burn that his Master walked once more with
the living. He would find his Master, and he would bring with him Harry Potter's corpse.
"Harry," said Dumbledore, "The Minister and I have much to discuss. Would you consent to
returning to Headquarters with Arthur?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said.
Harry and the redheaded man began walking toward the apparition point to return to
Grimmauld Place. "Harry," Mr. Weasley began, "I never had a chance to properly thank you
for saving my daughter's life."
Harry had forgiven the girl for her foolishness, but he still did not like her. "You're welcome,
Mr. Weasley."
Daphne was confused when she saw Harry leave the game with the Weasley patriarch. As far
as she knew, Harry and the Weasleys did not get along very well.
As she watched them walk away, a man appeared out of thin air behind Harry and trained his
wand on Harry's back.
"Harry, watch out!" she screamed, hoping she was not too late.
Harry heard someone call for him to watch out, and dove to the ground instinctively. He rolled
over in time to see a sickly green light shoot over his prone form. The Killing Curse flew
harmlessly into the forest.
Arthur Weasley knew that he was not much of a duelist, but that he had a duty to protect
Harry. Besides, the boy had saved his daughter's life. "Stupefy!" Crouch deflected the stunner
with ease, but the distraction proved to be too much.
Harry leapt to his feet, his wand aimed at the man who had just tried to kill him.
"Sectumsempra!" Snape taught him the curse during one of their lessons, and had instructed
him only to use it if he wanted to inflict severe damage on his target. Crouch, who still had his
shield up after deflecting Arthur's spell, was unable to avoid the curse which shattered his
shield.
The powerful curse struck Crouch like the slash of a sword, cutting into his flesh starting at his
shoulder and ending near his waist. His face whitened instantly, as blood splattered out of his
wound. Crouch looked at Harry with hatred, knowing he had been defeated. With the last of
his strength, he apparated to safety.
Harry cursed as Crouch apparated. He had hoped to keep the man from escaping. He turned
to Arthur. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley," he said sincerely. "You kept him occupied."
Mr. Weasley nodded absently, surveying the area for any more threats. Harry suspected that
the attacker had been alone. If there were more of them, they would have all attacked at the
same time.
When he cursed Crouch, he saw that Daphne had been watching him nervously. He realized
she had been the one to warn him. If she had not, he would have been killed. He walked to
where she had been standing when Crouch attacked him, but she was already gone.
A score of masked Death Eaters flew toward their target, with Voldemort at the lead and
Severus Snape at his right side. The Death Eaters were all on brooms, though Voldemort flew
under his own power.
They were close now. The harsh wind whipped in their faces as the sea crashed below them.
On the horizon was Azkaban Prison.
Voldemort smiled maliciously. The Qudditch World Cup had been a perfect diversion for his
attack.
He had kept this plan to himself until the last moment. He did not distrust any specific Death
Eater, for he believed them all to be loyal to him, but he was paranoid enough to know that
any of them could betray him.
With a single jab of his wand, a portion of the thick stone wall surrounding the prison was
pulverized. He landed on the rock floor and began strolling leisurely through the prison. He
walked down the blocks of cells and deeper into the prison. There were few human guards on
duty, and no reserves. They were all stationed at the World Cup. The dementors were the
prison's only real defense, and they would stand alongside the Dark Lord, not in his way. They
would, however, be forced to remain in the prison until the Ministry acknowledged his
presence.
He rounded a corner and encountered the first guard. His eyes widened, but he did not get a
chance to warn his colleagues.
"Avada Kedavra!" The jet of green light erupted from Voldemort's wand and struck the guard
in the chest, extinguishing the life from his body.
Voldemort stepped casually over the corpse of the dead guard and continued further into the
prison.
As the Dark Lord and his followers approached the deepest part of the prison, many of the
Death Eaters began to feel the chilling effects of the dementors. He looked to his left and saw
that Lucius trembled as he moved forward. Snape also seemed to be suffering. Voldemort,
personally, did not notice the effects of the creatures. The dozens of dementors guarding the
prison's innermost cellblock drifted aside to allow the Death Eaters access.
Two Aurors guarded the cells containing Voldemort's most faithful servants. Both of them
began firing curses at the Dark Lord.
Voldemort laughed mercilessly as he batted their spells aside, as if they were nothing. A jet of
green ended the life of one of the Aurors.
The Dark Lord aimed at the other guard. "Imperio!" The guard's eyes glazed over as the spell
took its effect. "Release my Death Eaters," he commanded.
The guard hastily removed a key from his robes and began opening cell doors. His task
finished, the guard stood in front of Voldemort, as if waiting for his next command. "Avada
Kedavra!" The guard crumpled to the floor, as prisoners began emerging from their cells.
"Antonin, Bella. At last, we meet again."
"My Lord," Bellatrix said, falling to her knees in front of Voldemort, "I knew you would come
for us."
Voldemort ran a long forefinger down his most devoted servant's cheek. "Assistance will
always be given to my most faithful."
Harry sat at the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, at his first official meeting of the
Order of the Phoenix.
"An incident occurred at the World Cup," Dumbledore explained. "Harry was attacked by a
member of Voldemort's forces."
Immediately, the murmur of whispered conversations became overwhelming.
"After reviewing Harry's memory of the incident, I have determined the attacker to have been
Bartemius Crouch Junior."
The whispered conversations became much louder.
"But Albus," said Molly Weasley, "He's dead."
"I was under that impression as well. How he has survived is a mystery, but we must assume
that he was acting on the orders of his Master."
"How do you know that for sure, Albus?"
"I fear the attack was meant as a diversion. The Ministry has not yet realizedthis but thanks to
Severus," he said, pointing in Snape's direction, "we have discovered that the Dark Lord led
an attack on Azkaban."
Most of the individual conversations stopped at Dumbledore's revelation.
"Due to the attack at the World Cup, the Ministry removed most of their Aurors from the
island, and left it guarded by a very small contingent of new recruits and the dementors, who
allowed the Dark Lord to free his servants."
"Who escaped?" asked one of the older members.
"The most notable escapees are the Lestranges and Antonin Dolohov."
The previous whispering returned with fervor, and Dumbledore took a moment to regain the
silence.
"Sirius," he said, "You will need to be more careful. The Ministry will likely blame you for the
breakouts."
The meeting concluded a short time later, and Harry was asked to stay behind.
"Harry," Dumbledore began, "Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year.
Have you heard of it?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. But wasn't the Tournament cancelled?"
"Indeed it was, but the Ministry has decided to restore it."
"Why haven't I heard about this before?" Harry asked.
"It is a very tightly kept secret. I only mention it to you now, because Voldemort has ordered
Severus to enter your name."
"What should I do, sir?"
"That decision belongs to you. If you choose to compete, you will be put in a considerable
amount of danger, though I am sure you are capable of handling anything the Tournament
has to offer. The real threat would be whatever Voldemort has planned, and I will do
everything in my power to ensure your safety. If you compete, Severus' position as a spy will
be secured. If you choose not to compete, you will be safe- as safe as you have always been,
that is, but Severus' position would be compromised."
Harry briefly considered his options. "I'll do it. The risk is work keeping a spy in his ranks."
"I agree with your reasoning. We will keep you safe, Harry. This year, I will be instructing
you."
Daphne Greengrass had done what she promised herself she would not do. She had
communicated with Harry Potter. She did not regret her decision, because he would have been
killed if she had not acted, and she refused to allow him to be hurt, even if she would not
speak to him.
As soon as she saw that he was safe, she had left. She was impressed by his reaction, and the
amount of raw power he put behind his spells. The curse he struck his attacker with had
destroyed his shield, as if it were not even there.
Daphne knew she was a talented witch, but realized that she could not hope to match him in a
duel. She did not think anyone in Slytherin could match him in terms of power.
She almost hoped that Draco would be foolish enough to pick a fight with him, though she
would have to hurt Draco for attacking Harry.
Harry was making progress with his Occlumency lessons. Snape was still able to briefly view
his memories, but he was able to clear his mind more quickly as their lessons progressed. He
still struggled with keeping his mind clear of emotions effortlessly. He had to apply a conscious
effort, so he was unable to repel Legilimency attacks when he was not expecting them.
Snape was hopeful that he would be able to shield his mind from attack before he encountered
Voldemort again.
Voldemort stood before his Death Eaters, and smirked triumphantly as he saw that his Inner
Circle had been completely reunited. He faced Snape and said, "Harry Potter's involvement in
the Triwizard Tournament is critical to our plans. You must not fail."
"I will succeed, my Lord."
"The Third Task is when we shall strike." Snape nodded his head. Voldemort turned to the
man who had most recently rejoined his ranks. "Barty Crouch Junior," he said, shaking his
head, "You were reckless, irresponsible, and you attempted to kill that which is mine to kill."
Crouch groveled in front of his Master, begging for mercy. He grimaced in pain at the sudden
movement- the bleeding from his fight with Potter had been stopped, but the wound had not
been healed.
"Nevertheless," Voldemort continued, "Your attack, unwanted as it was, succeeded in

weakening the defenses of Azkaban. The benefits were not intended, but they cannot be
discounted. You will not be punished."
"Thank you, Master."
Voldemort turned to Lucius to make his next command. "Our eventual plans for the English
Ministry will be more feasible after we have taken control of the French Ministry. Speak with
your French contracts, Lucius."
Voldemort knew that Dumbledore would not allow the English Ministry to be taken control of
directly. The two sides were, at the moment, evenly matched, and he did not dare make such
a risky move.
The support of the French Ministry, after he had taken control of it, would give his campaign
against the English Minsitry legitimacy, and that would greatly limit Dumbledore's options.
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Harry Potter and the Order of the Chronic

I don't own any of the characters, all JKR, no profit to be made.

Sequel to Harry Potter and the Blazin Goblet

"Of course." Harry replied giving a nod of his head.

Harry rolled his eyes.

Harry didn't reply for a bit, apparently lost in thought.

Once Harry regained his composure he gestured to the stairs.

"What? No, I mean yes, I mean… um…" Dudley began to sputter.

Dudley glared in response.

Dudley and Harry both looked at her with confused expression.

"Police?" Dudley whispered his eyes filled with dread.

"Dudley…" Harry said quietly.

"Go down there and take care of them."

"Me? Why me?" Dudley replied finally breaking the silence.

Before Karen knew it Harry was by her side.

"What'd you do?"

"Filthy burglars." Dudley replied menacingly.

A familiar voice from below answer as it approached the landing.

Harry paused for a moment.

So much for the intro to the next story.

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Harry Potter and the Order of the Chronic

Only the Best Protect Harry

I don't own any of the characters, all JKR, no profit to be made.

"London you say?" Harry said trying to play it coy.

"Indeed I have." Remus laughed.

"Tonks." She replied.

"Tonks? Just Tonks?" Harry asked his eyebrow raised.

"Don't like my first name." She answered with a scowl.

"Yeah you do." Kingsley muttered.

"What is a waffle iron?" Another wizard asked.

"Chinese menu." Harry corrected Remus with a grin.

Harry laughed as they touched down.

"Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain."

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Harry Potter and the Order of the Chronic

Order of the Phoenix

I don't own any of the characters, all JKR, no profit to be made.

"Not here boy! Wait till we're inside." Moody snarled.

"Ok, Order of the…"

Harry gave Remus a questioning look. Remus chuckled a bit.

"He is worried that spies might be listening in."

Harry rolled his eyes as a grin slowly came to his face.

"Told you no one cared." Harry muttered to his back.

"Well at least they care if we are annoying enough."

"He told you to be quiet." Tonks muttered with a sly grin.

"Bah, leave filthy brat besmirching my home!"

"Calm down you psycho nutty bitch."

"Ah… you dare? You worthless scum of the earth!"

"Worthless brat! Son of a mudblood whore! Not worth the..."

"Well Harry. I'm here because this is my house."

"That nutter bitch is you mom?"

"Mother issues?" Harry asked innocently with a hint of mockery.

Sirius didn't reply as they slowly walked along before shrugging.

Sirius replied with another shrug.

"You didn't think of it did you?" Harry muttered with smirk.

"Yeah that to." Sirius said with no denial.

"Sirius Black!" Mrs. Weasley shouted giving a sniff of the air.

Harry shook his head in response.

"Meetings starting!" Someone shouted from below.