Harry Potter and the Second Prophecy
1. Chapter 1
Hey Everyone! I’m not entirely sure where this story may take me, but I have the basic plot put together. I would appreciate reviews, and I’m going to need some reviews and ideas to continue!
This takes place in Harry’s 6th year, after the OofP! I’m trying real hard to study the book to make sure it follows everything that JK Rowling has said (facts, etc). PLEASE let me know if I get anything wrong!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to the magnificent genius J. K. Rowling
~*~
Chapter One:
“Come on, you can do better than that!” Sirius yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
It took Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch…
Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing - Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear on the other side any second…
But Sirius did not reappear.
“Sirius!” Harry yelled. “Sirius!”
“NO! Sirius!”
In the early morning, a boy of sixteen jumped up in his bed. Panting, he slowly looked around him gathering his bearings. He was no longer in the Department of Mysteries; watching his godfather, more like a father to him, fall into the veil.
Although his back was dripping with sweat, he laid back down again.
Looking over at his clock, he read 6:45. Aunt Petunia called him everyday at 7:00 to start breakfast.
He felt horrible, physically and emotionally. It was his entire fault: everything that happened the previous month at the department of mysteries, including Sirius’s death.
He wondered what Ron and Hermione would say if he told them about the prophecy?
“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Harry! Professor McGonagall says that Divination isn’t reliable, and Professor Trelawney is a complete fraud! Besides, I’m sure that I read somewhere that prophecies are complete coincidence…”
“Yea,” thought Harry. “Hermione would quote McGonagall and consult a book. And Ron…”
“You mean you have to kill You-Know-Who, before You-Know-Who kills you…and You-Know-Who knows this? Maybe dad knows something to help…”
Mr. Weasley worked in the Ministry of Magic and was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a team that worked against Voldemort and his death eaters. Harry was sure that he knew about the prophecy, having almost died last Christmas defending it. He shuddered recalling that memory.
CRACK! CRACK!
Harry gasped, looking up, startled to see both Weasley twins sitting on his bed in front of him.
“Hiya Harry! Man, you look rough,” said George.
“The muggles better be treating you good,” added Fred.
“Yea, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“Well we haven’t heard from you since school ended.”
“Yea, and mum wanted us to invite you to the Burrow in a couple of days. You can stay there the remaining two weeks of summer.”
“That sounds great…I’m sure the muggles won’t mind getting rid of me.”
"Harry Potter! Get up right now! You must fix the breakfast, Aunt Marge will be hungry when she gets here!" Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice interrupted the conversation.
“Aunt…”
“Marge?” finished George.
“Yea,” answered Harry. “She’s staying here for a couple of days. I won’t be able to leave until she leaves.”
“Wait,” said Fred. “Isn’t that the aunt you blew up?”
“Yea, well it was an accident…” said Harry reproachfully.
Fred and George snickered as they disapparated with a “See you at the Burrow!” and “Yea, we’ll come pick you up in three days!”
Harry reluctantly got up and stretched tiredly. With the room still dark, he nearly ran into the closet door. He reached over to flip the light on and his reflection stared back at him. His hairwas still messy as ever. When he tried to flatten it, a thin lightning bolt-shaped scar was just visible between thick strands of black; he quickly covered it out of sight again. Since he did no other sports, he figured his slightly muscle toned body was from quidditch, despite his ban from last year. He also noticed that he had grown since last summer, at least 2 inches. His Aunt's shrill voice screeching "Harry Potter!"brought him back from his thoughts.
He dazedly walked through the upstairs hall and down the stairs, pictures of Dudley, his Uncle Vernon, and his Aunt Petunia neatly hung on the walls. He was very glad that these pictures didn't move, like all pictures in the wizard world,as he knew they would just glare at him in a taunting way, just like their originals.
…..
The smell of slightly under cooked bacon greeted him as the walked into the kitchen.
"Finish this bacon and start on the eggs!" snapped his aunt. Untying the apron that lay over her neat, pale pink dress, she walked out of the room leaving Harry to the food.
“Finish the bacon and start on the eggs…!” muttered Harry in an annoyed fashion.
After finishing the breakfast, Harry tried to sprint upstairs without being noticed.
“Marge! How splendid to see you!”
‘Damn!’ Harry stopped dead in his tracks, he had almost reached the kitchen door when a colossal woman pushed it open knocking him in the head and to the floor.
“Boy! Still here are you? Petunia, when he is done cleaning the floor please tell him to bring in my luggage.”
Aunt Petunia’s glare at him told him quite plainly that he better get out of the room quick. Harry crawled out of the kitchen and leaned his aching head against the wall. ‘Bloody Hell that woman doesn’t know her own strength!’
Straightening up, Harry dragged his feet outside. ‘She is only staying two days; she HAD to bring that suitcase?’ Struggling under the enormous weight, he managed to haul the luggage into the foyer.
“Boy! Come in here!”
Harry, thinking of the Burrow, obeyed and walked as one condemned into the living room.
“Petunia, look at Dudley! He is growing more like his father every time I see him, both proper sized men they are! But this one here,” Aunt Marge glared at Harry. “This one looks too gangly, clearly from his father’s side. That is how it is with dogs: the mother makes no difference. It is the father that determines the bulk. Clearly this…Potter…was a bad egg; you mustn’t blame yourself Petunia!”
‘Well I’d hate to see the state of YOUR dad,’ thought Harry bitterly. He narrowed his eyes at Aunt Marge, and a picture on the wall behind her fell.
“My goodness!” Aunt Petunia jumped up to put it back, looking angrily at Harry behind Aunt Marge’s back. “ Second one this week! Vernon, we really need to see into those new wall fixtures!”
Aunt Marge looked puzzled at Uncle Vernon, who was staring at Harry.
“Harry,” Uncle Vernon addressed him. Harry was startled to hear his name. “Go do your homework.”
Before Harry asked, Uncle Vernon informed Aunt Marge: “Marge, St. Brutu’s has insisted that he attend summer school next week.. Yes, they have given him lots of work to complete before he begins.”
“Were your grades poor?” asked a very smug-looking Aunt Marge.
“Oh, erm…yeah! They were horrible!”
“Well Petunia, the brain genetics also come from the father-”
Harry, very grateful of Uncle Vernon’s lie, took the opportunity to run to his bedroom.
…..
Taking the stairs two at a time, he opened the door to find three owls perched on his desk. When the professional important-looking owl saw Harry, it dropped its letter and flew out the window. His own owl, Hedwig, and what looked like a feathery tennis ball, Ron’s owl that was christened “Pig”, dropped their letter in unison and flew to Hedwig’s cage to rest.
Harry picked up the three letters: one from Hogwarts, one from Ron, and one from Hermione.
Since he knew that the one from Hogwarts had his OWL results, he tore that one open first.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Attached are you OWL results. Also, if you would please fill out the attached list of your possible choices for the 6th year’s subjects and return it before the 16th of August. A booklist for your chosen NEWT subjects will be sent to you shortly.
We will see you at King’s Cross Station on platform 9 ¾ on September 1st. Hope your summer is pleasant.
Sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Harry’s heart raced as he turned the page to see his OWL results. He took a deep breath and quickly read the page expecting the worse.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Your OWL results are as follows:
Charms
Theory: O
Practical: A
Overall: E
Transfiguration
Theory: E
Practical: O
Overall: E
Herbology
Theory: A
Practical: A
Overall: A
DADA
Theory: O
Practical: O
Overall: O
Potions
Theory: E
Practical: A
Overall: A
Care of Magical Creatures
Theory: E
Practical: O
Overall: E
Astronomy:
Theory: A
Practical: P
Overall: A
Divination
Theory: P
Practical: D
Overall: P
History of Magic
Theory: P
Practical: -
Overall: P
7 out of 9 possible OWLs achieved. Congratulations!
Sincerely,
Professor Marchbanks
Head of Education, Ministry of Magic
Harry’s face turned from anxious-depressed to sad and anger. In order to become an auror, what Harry desired to do after school, he had to take NEWT potions. And to take potions he needed to pass with an ‘O’; and all because the potions master, Snape, was the world’s biggest git.
“Damn it!” Harry voiced aloud. He put down the Hogwarts letter, he decided to fill out the subject form later.
Picking up the other two letters, he ripped open Ron’s first.
Hey Mate!
I hope that the muggles are treating you well! I’m not sure how fast Pig will get there, but Fred and George are popping in to invite you to the Burrow soon. With or without the muggles permission, we’re coming to get you on the 17th.
I got my OWL results. I only passed 5: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures. Not bad I guess, but mum’s not too pleased. Seeing that we have to take a minimum of five classes, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I hope our results are good!
I will see you soon!
Ron
P.S.- Percy is still being a prat; he acknowledges You-Know-Who’s return, but you still won’t apologize for being a complete git!
Harry almost smiled, the prospect of seeing Ron brightened his mood. He tore open Hermione’s letter.
Harry!
Hedwig always knows when to turn up! I’m in Spain with my family, and I was glad to see that she found me.
I got my OWL results! I passed all of them-13 OWLs! Mum and Dad are really pleased. Ron didn’t seem to want to tell me what he got. I hope yours are good.
I’m returning a couple of days before the start of term. I believe that I’m meeting you and the Weasley’s in Diagon Alley. I will see you soon!
Love from,
Hermione
Taking two pieces of parchments, and quill, and a bottle of ink out of his trunk (the Dursley’s, out of sheer terror of the Order, allowed him to have it in his room). He pulled the subject from towards him and read:
Dear Mr. Potter,
If you would please fill out the form and return it no later than the 16th of August. You must take a minimum of 5 NEWT classes. The classes that you qualify for are listed below; please circle at least 5 of them.
1.Defense Against the Dark Arts
Harry immediately circled that one; it was one of his favorite subjects (not including the year with Umbridge).
2.Charms
3.Transfiguration
4.Herbology
5.Care of magical Creatures
He signed up for Charms and Transfiguration. Maybe the ministry would allow him to train as an auror even without potions. He also circled Care of Magical Creatures: he couldn’t let Hagrid down.
6.Potions
Just before he circled it absent mindedly, Harry did a double take. 'Potions??' He quickly reread the first paragraph: 'classes that you qualify for are listed below.' But he didn't qualify for potions? Or did he read it wrong...he was very tired; he looked back at his OWL scores; he had a got an ‘A’. Harry distinctively remembered Professor McGonagall say: “I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than ‘Outstanding’ in their OWLs.” He concluded that it must be a mistake, Professor McGonagall had to write loads of these letters, and she could have easily put down potions by accident. Even so, Harry circled it; it wasn’t his fault if it was wrong. And he now had all the NEWT classes he needed to become an auror. If McGonagall realized that it was a mistake, then she would let him know when she sent the booklist.
Harry quickly wrote replies to Ron and Hermione, telling them both his scores. He also mentioned to Ron that it was probably OK to come get him.
“Hedwig! Can you take this one to Hogwarts? And then this one to Hermione?”
She ruffled her feathers in a can’t-you-see-I’m-tired sort of way.
“Ok, if you don’t think your up to it…OI! PIG!”
Hedwig nipped his hand and stuck out her leg. After Harry tied both letter securely, she spread her wings and flew out his open window.
Harry snuck up on Pig from behind and grabbed him.
“Listen, take this back to Ron, OK?”
The tiny owl gave a muffled hoot. When Harry released him, he zipped around Harry’s head. He grabbed the miniature owl out of the air with his seeker reflexes and tied on the letter. Pig dipped slightly from the weight and zoomed out of the window.
Harry’s clock read 11:25. He took of his glasses, pulled off his shirt, and climbed into his bed. Harry fell asleep almost instantly.
Text from the Wayback Machine's capture of the site, 26 May 2006.