Harry Potter and the Final Prophecy

Hey there! This is my second FanFic, first Harry Potter. My writing can border on dark and disturbing occasionally; however it usually culminates in a happy ending! Please read and review……… Thanks, Goldy.

Harry Potter and the Final Prophecy

I don't own the books or fabulous characters of Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Harry's unusually peaceful holiday is abruptly cut short with devastating news. 12 Grimmauld Place has been mysteriously infiltrated, and now his best friend is missing. Fed up with Voldemort's reign of terror, Harry assembles the members of the DA, and leads them on a dangerous mission to find Hermione and destroy the Dark Lord and his followers once and for all.

Chapter One

Swinging his legs leisurely, “The Boy who Lived” surveyed the surroundings from his current vantage point: the wide branch of an old elm tree. Looking out over the park and surroundings, Harry Potter glanced sadly at the park bench near where he had first caught a glimpse of his late Godfather, Sirius Black. Sighing, he banished the thoughts and memories to the back of his mind as he wondered what his friends were doing now. At least the information and letters from them were more forthcoming than last year….. news was filtering in at a slow but steady rate. Arabella Figg was his `contact', and would pass on information that had been approved by the Ministry of Magic. The problem was that Mrs Figg wasn't the most reliable person to use: she often confused and forgot certain details.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed movement in the fields below. Straining to get a good look, he noticed it was Dudley and his gang of thugs harassing a young boy near the swings. Harry shook his head as the frightened kid handed over his money and was pushed to the ground by Dudley.

“At least it's not me…” Harry mused. In fact, the entire Dursley family had left him to his own devices this Summer, to the point of being completely ignored. This arrangement suited Harry just fine: he cooked his own meals, washed his clothes and went where he pleased. Besides, with the events that had taken place at the end of term, Harry was liable to turn Vernon and Petunia into bright pink toads if they harassed him further. He had lost Sirius in the battle with the Death Eaters, and nearly lost one of his best friends. It had taken Harry until now to realize the sacrifice his friends had made for him, especially Hermione.

Again, his thoughts were distracted by a shuffling figure moving towards the group of boys below. Waiting for Dudley's posse to saunter off, Mrs Figg calmly glanced up at the tree and beckoned for Harry to climb down.

“That cousin of yours is a blight on this neighborhood…..” she complained, narrowing her eyes in the direction they had departed. Impatient for information, Harry tapped his foot loudly.

“Oh, sorry……….We're having a slight problem at headquarters. One of Moody's dark magic detectors has been going crazy for the last few hours. They can't find the source yet, apparently they've searched the house top to bottom and found nothing. The order is on high alert though, and Albus has asked that you keep your eyes open.”

Surprised by this information, Harry could only imagine Mrs Black's painting shrieking to high heaven over the alarms. “Everybody's a little strung out, as you can imagine…” continued Mrs Figg. “They send their love, though.”

Turning to leave, Arabella Figg turned and observed the tall boy with his hands in his pockets, seemingly bewildered and unhappy at not being in the action again. Smiling encouragingly, she hugged him quickly and hurried away.

With the sun setting quickly behind him, Harry made his way back to Privet Drive, slightly bothered by this new information. Walking through the lounge room, he passed the Dursley's who were eating TV dinners and watching a repeat episode of `Eastenders'. Seemingly invisible, Harry made himself a sandwich and retreated to the sparse comfort of his bedroom. After reading for a while, Harry placed the spell book beside his bed and dozed fitfully, his glasses lying lopsided over his nose.

Some time before 3 am, Harry woke with a start. His scar was throbbing painfully, yet he had no memory of any dream or vision. Feeling vaguely troubled, he turned onto his side and looked out the window. To his surprise, Harry noticed the street lights were fading. Sitting up quickly, he reached for his wand. “Lumos” he whispered, glancing around the room and wondering what was happening. His attention was again captured by the street scene outside, as dark shapes glided around like ghosts. The temperature had now dropped by about 20 degrees as Harry bolted through the hallway and into Vernon and Petunia's room to warn them. Already awake and cowering in a corner, Petunia turned her terrified eyes to Harry, pleading with him to do something.

Harry raced down the stairs, passing Dudley whose eyes were frozen on the front door. Petunia and Vernon had made their way down behind him and were now standing beside the china hutch. The door had swung open several moments ago, but the creatures hadn't entered. Heart in his mouth, Harry walked out into the front lawn and was stunned by the sight that greeted him: literally hundreds of Dementors were circling Privet drive. Lights were turning on in houses as the unsuspecting Muggles woke feeling cold and unhappy. Many had spilled out onto the street, clad only in their pyjamas and huddling together for warmth.

“What in the ruddy hell is this?” whispered Vernon, who was now standing beside Harry and watching the spectacle with a combination of fear and wonder. “Oh no….” cried Harry in dismay as a Dementor swooped down towards a young mother and her child. Running towards them, Harry raised his wand, bellowing the words “Expecto Patronum”. The silver stag galloped towards their attacker and warded the Dementor off, who fled screeching angrily into the night.

“Can't you do something?” prodded Vernon, as Harry deflected another Dementor attack on Mrs Figg, who had been shaking her fist and screaming at the creatures. Relief poured over Harry as he spotted three familiar figures hurrying into the chaos. Tonks, Remus and Moody's voices boomed over the screams as spells were sent in every direction. “Hey Harry! Bloody hell, trouble knows where to find you, doesn't it!”” cried Tonks, who was clearly enjoying the moment.

“Why are they here? They haven't attacked anybody yet…” yelled Harry. Shrugging his shoulders, Mad Eye Moody sent another Patronus Spell into the air, before grabbing Harry and pointing to a huge Dementor who floated to the side, observing the scene. As if on cue, the lone Dementor raised it's head and let out an ear-piercing wail, causing both muggles and wizards to dive to the ground in pain. The rest of the creatures left the scene as quietly as they had arrived.

Sneaking a peek over his arm, Harry noticed that the lone Dementor was still hovering in the same spot, and had something in its knotted, gnarled hands. The hooded figure walked towards him, holding the object in front of its robes as if making an offering to Harry. It then dropped the object to the ground, then rose and followed the others. By now, more people had arrived on the scene: police, Ministry of Magic officials, ambulances and the St Mungo's Mobile Medicine Maladies van. “What the hell was that all about?” Remus whispered to Moody, as Harry's attention was again attracted to the thing lying on the ground several metres in front of him. Jumping up, Harry stumbled around the unconscious Muggle bodies and picked it up with trembling hands.

Strands of thick, brown hair were held together by a red and gold ribbon: Gryffindor colours. Sinking down to the grass, panic began to set in as he realized there was blood at the ends, as if the hair had been pulled out violently. Shaking uncontrollably, the tears began to fall as Lupin, Moody and Tonks found him and hurried towards him: their questions falling on deaf ears. Taking the offering from him, Lupin held it up to the light, his pale face registering both shock and recognition. “We have to go, now…” Moody murmured, also unable to look away from the bushy strands. As Tonks rushed to find the Minister of Magic, Lupin and Moody both grabbed one of Harry's arms and apparated quickly from the scene. When they reached their destination, Moody quickly ran to find Professor Dumbledore as Remus put his arms around Harry's quaking shoulders.

“She can't be gone……”

Ooooh! Next chapter in a day or two.

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Harry Potter and the Final Prophecy

Chapter Two

Even though it was only 5am, the quiet halls of 12 Grimmauld place were starting to come alive. Mr and Mrs Weasley were first to descend the stairs after being woken by Remus. Clearly shocked, Molly sat and hugged Harry for a while, crying silent tears of her own. Various members of the Order had arrived during the last half hour, and were now speaking in low tones, obviously at a loss to explain how Hermione had disappeared from under their very noses.

“I'll take that, Harry…” spoke a very disheveled looking Professor McGonagall, taking the hair and hurrying from the room. As Moody moved in to question him further, Harry noticed some familiar looking objects dangling from a string above them. Recognizing Fred and Georges' Extendable Ears, Harry pushed past Moody and made his way to the top floor. He found the twins sitting in the dark hallway, watching the proceedings and talking in hushed voices.

“Is it true?” Fred asked, without looking at Harry. “Have they taken her?” Harry merely looked down at his shoes.

“I think we need to wake the others……”

Several minutes later, they had all assembled in Ron's bedroom. Ginny sat in the corner, stroking Crookshanks and looking red eyed and pale. Ron was seated on his bed, head in his hands, while Fred and George simply looked furious. To Harry's surprise, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood had also been led in. Harry told them what had transpired during the last few hours, in the greatest detail possible. He forced himself to tell the group about Hermiones' hair, causing Ginny to start crying again.

Pounding his fist against the wall, George swore loudly, making Neville jump slightly. “How could this happen?” asked Ron, his chin still touching his chest. “We were all here, no one's left the house…….”

“Figgy told me that an alarm had gone off recently?” spoke Harry, silently pleading with them for any information that could help make sense of the situation.

“Yeah, but Moody didn't find anyone……Dumbledore said that it was probably a false alarm” said Ginny, repositioning the sleeping cat on the floor beside her and wiping her eyes.

“Well, she can't have vanished…….it has to be connected somehow” spoke Neville for the first time. “We all saw her at dinner, around 7 o'clock, I think. Damn it, if I find out Malfoy Junior had anything to do with this, I'll rearrange his pixie, ferret face with my bare hands….”

Nodding agreement with Neville's threat, the worried group sat in silence for a while, oblivious to the frantic actions going on below them. It was finally Luna who noticed the heavy footsteps and yells issuing from the headquarters. Standing up, she exited the room and looked over the railing, beckoning for the others to come. Leaning over, Harry saw that there were close to 50 wizards running frantically around the cramped rooms. Some were polishing wands and brooms, others were practicing spells. Harry watched in amazement as many of them disapparated in front of them. Spotting Lupin among the crowd, Harry rushed over to find out what was going on, but didn't get much from him.

“Can't talk, Harry, the Dementors have attacked another suburb in South London and this time they mean business. Albus is coming to speak to you, just don't leave the house- any of you….” warned Lupin before disapparating with a loud `POP!'

“BUT WHAT ABOUT HERMIONE?” Harry yelled in dismay, aware that the others were now huddled together behind him. Swearing loudly, Harry kicked a pot plant that had been crawling around the floor, sending it crashing through a window, screeching loudly. Collapsing to the floor, Harry was only dimly aware that Mrs Black's portrait was now awake.

“FOUL, DIRTY HALF-BREED! HOW DARE YOU BISMIRCH THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK….GET OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE YOU SUFFER THE SAME FATE AS THE MUDBLOOD!”

“Shut up, ya' mouldy old cow….” Fred and George screamed back, more than happy to take their aggression out on anybody. Feeling scared and alone, Harry felt gentle hands on the back of his shoulders.

“We'll find her, Harry…” whispered Ginny. Giving her a weak smile, he nodded. Sighing, he settled himself into a chair and waited for Dumbledore.

Within a few minutes, Professor Dumbledore strode into the living room, his face reflecting the pain that they all felt.

“Harry, I must speak to you alone.” Knowing that the others would be unhappy about this request, Dumbledore held up a placatory hand. “If you choose, you may pass this information on to your friends afterwards.”

Nodding, Harry followed the Professor into the room that had once been Sirius' study. More family portraits lined the walls of the small room, whose inhabitants seemed alert and watchful.

“I will make this brief, Harry, as I am needed elsewhere. Voldemort has begun the second war, and he appears to have two targets. He has ordered the Dementor's of Azkaban to attack all Muggles and Muggle-born wizards.” Dumbledore paused, wiping his forehead with a cloth before settling his gaze on Harry again. “We have every available wizard out there fighting them, and reinforcements are coming from other countries as we speak. I will be opening Hogwarts immediately as a refuge for the children whose parents are fighting.” Sighing, Dumbledore looked sadly at Harry. “As you have probably already guessed, you are the second target.”

Harry stared back impatiently: this information was already known to him. He was aware of the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries.

“There was a second prophecy made, Harry…….”

Startled out of his thoughts, Harry went to speak but was cut off. “Before you ask, I do not know the contents, as it was not spoken to me. Sybil Trelawney is dead, Harry. She was abducted from her holiday home a week ago. It is my belief that Voldemort tortured her into giving her final prophecy. He is desperate for a means to destroy you. I believe this is connected to Miss Granger's abduction……….”

Looking tired and weary, Dumbledore knelt besides Harry's chair. Placing a hand on his shoulder, the professor looked Harry directly in the eyes and spoke.

“We will not be able to assist you, nor will we stop you. You know what needs to be done, Harry. Some members of the DA may be of assistance to you, so don't go alone. I believe you will find a Portkey somewhere in the house, it is the only way they could gain access to her. I also believe that Alistair Moody's alarm was tripped when someone returned the object to the house to avoid suspicion.”

Standing slowly, Professor Dumbledore headed for the door, turning to look at the overwhelmed teenager. Smiling proudly at Harry, Dumbledore spoke. “Take strength in your friends, Harry…..some are more than they appear to be.” Gathering his robes around him, the elderly wizard swept quickly from the room to join the battle raging so close to the headquarters.

Exiting the room, Harry ignored the barrage of questions and raced back up the stairs, bounding into the room that had belonged to both Ginny and Hermione.

“What are you looking for?” asked a bewildered Ron, watching Harry throw the girls' clothes and belongings around the room.

“Something that Hermione would be guaranteed to use, that could be turned into a Portkey…..” Harry explained, not knowing where to start.

“What about that?” asked Neville, pointing towards a book lying neatly on a bedside table. Crowding around it, Ginny read the cover, shaking her head in wonder.

“Hogwarts, a History” (Revised Edition)

Howdy! Next chapter will give a little detail on Hermione's current situation….

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A warning- this is a pretty dark chapter, please read and review!

Harry Potter and the Final Prophecy

Chapter Three

Shivering and hungry, Hermione Granger was roused from a restless sleep by the loud thumping sounds coming from the cell adjacent to hers. Craning her neck, she saw the prisoner who had been her only companion for the last 24 hours, being dragged from the dungeon, pleading for his life. An older, dignified-looking wizard, he had apparently been a high- placed member of the Order, and was captured and brought to this place a week ago. Romulus Gamble had offered Hermione words of encouragement ever since she had been brought here, unconscious and bleeding profusely from the head. It was extremely distressing to see her only company dragged out by two thick-set Death Eaters (one whom she recognized as Macnair). Hermione's voice now joined the cries, as she begged them to leave Romulus alone. As the screams died away, the young witch was left staring at the wall and wondering what her fate was to be. Drifting back into darkness, she began to dream.

It had started with the piercing wail of an alarm from somewhere in the depths of the headquarters. The inhabitants had bolted into the backyard, hands covering their ears to escape the painful sound. Moody and Remus had entered the house, wands outstretched and certain that the enemy had found them. As it turned out, the only person found inside the house was Mundungus Fletcher, passed out with a bottle of firewhisky in his hands.

Upon re-entering the house, Luna had suggested that the false alarm was the work of `Flying Crummys', whose mischievous actions had been researched in depth by her father's newspaper editor. Rolling her eyes, Hermione watched Luna follow Ron into the lounge room. Luna seemed to be following Ron everywhere since she and Neville had arrived at Grimmauld Place at the beginning of the holidays. Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione helped Mrs Weasley with dinner, and an hour later they were feasting on fried chicken and vegetables. As George bewitched the roast to dance across the table singing old wizard tunes, Hermione's thoughts drifted to Harry. Hoping that he was safe and in good spirits, she gasped as one of the cooked birds fell into Mrs Weasly's lap, inciting hysterical laughter from everyone at the table. Shaking her head, she finished her meal and excused herself from the table, unable to watch Luna staring intensely at Ron for much longer.

Entering the room she and Ginny shared, Hermione began to quickly tidy her belongings.

The last thing she remembered was picking up “Hogwarts, a History” for some light, bedtime reading. Feeling a familiar tugging at the base of her navel, she barely had time to let out a surprised breath as she disappeared from the room, the book still clutched in her hands.

Hermione fell to the ground hard and rolled several times, coming to rest at the base of a tree. The Portkey lay several metres away, its pages open to chapter seven. Breathing heavily, she raised her head a few inches and noticed she was in a dark forest, twisted limbs moving without making the slightest noise. Feeling a little scared now, it took Hermione a minute to realize she was defenseless: her wand was on her bedside table.

Getting unsteadily to her feet, she stumbled towards the book but was cut off by a stunning spell directed towards her chest. Before hitting her head on the hard ground, she was dimly aware of a tall, cloaked figure with long hair and a pale face: Lucius Malfoy.

“Where are your friends now, Mudblood?” Laughing as she fell, Lucius grabbed a small fistful of her hair and pulled hard, passing the strands a lone Dementor who had emerged from the darkness. “See that Potter gets this…..”

Wide awake now, Hermione studied the walls of her cell, reading the names that had been etched into the stone by unfortunate souls. Pushing her damp, matted hair behind her ears, Hermione added her own name to the long list of previous inhabitants, praying that she wouldn't be a permanent addition.

Suddenly, she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending down the stone passageway. Shuffling as far into the corner as her restraints would allow, Hermione recognized the thin, pinched face that emerged from the doorway, a look of surprise showing on Draco Malfoy's face.

“What the hell are you doing here, Granger?” he spat, observing her tattered, blood-stained clothes and damp hair with some interest. “I don't have a clue….ask your father that question.” she retorted, returning the stare, eyes narrowed. Although not wanting to show weakness, Hermione began shivering uncontrollably, as Draco had left the door open, and a cold gust of wind had entered the dungeon. Returning to close the door, Draco took a seat in front of the holding cell.

“You know He's coming to see you?” Draco said quietly, looking down at his feet. “Father's really excited, say's it'll be just like old times. You're going to be the first Mudblood he tortures and kills, just to piss Potter off….The Dark Lord wants to play with him a little…..”

Barely able to contain her fear and anger, Hermione raised her head slightly. “Why don't you say his name, Malfoy…” she hissed through gritted teeth, aware that she was shivering again. “I'm not scared of Voldemort, I'm not scared of you, and if it's my time to go, then so be it.”

Leaning back in his chair, he studied her small form huddled in the corner of the cell, and suddenly felt an emotion he had never experienced before: remorse. Shaking the feeling away, he stood and left the freezing dungeons, confused and unsure. His father had always justified the killing of many wizards and muggles, stating that they were `a threat to their cause'. However, there didn't seem to be any reason for Granger's impending death. He actually had begun to enjoy their mutual animosity towards each other, amused by her cool reaction to the taunts and insults. As he made it back to the hallway, he was passed by a cloaked figure being led by his father towards the dungeons. Fear now replaced remorse as Draco realized who the visitor was, and what they were about to do.

Hermione's fear had now graduated to full blown terror as she watched the men enter the dungeon. Lucius Malfoy seemed sorely disappointed when a cold voice asked him to leave. Now certain she was alone with Lord Voldemort, she fought valiantly to hold back the tears as the metal doors swung open violently and the Dark Lord swept into her cell. Leaning down beside her shaking body, he reached into a pocket and retrieved a small, shiny glass orb. Hermione whimpered softly as Voldemort turned the orb around and pointed to the small inscription on the bottom, as if urging her to read it:

S.P.T. to T.M.R.

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger

“Do you know what this is, girl?” he asked in a quiet voice. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “This is a prophecy, much like you all saw in the Department of Mysteries. It contains what Potter needs in order to kill me. The seer wouldn't allow me to know the contents, so I killed her. This prophecy is in both your names, and I need to know what it says.” Grabbing her hand, Voldemort placed it on the orb that was now glowing brightly. Hermione's eyes widened as the voice of Professor Trewlawney echoed in her head. Now crying openly, she attempted to block the words out, knowing the consequences if Voldemort gained access to this information.

Replacing the orb back in his pocket, Voldemort stood up quickly and dragged the sobbing girl to her feet. “I'm only going to ask you once…” he threatened, their faces so close that the veins in his face were visible. Now nearly hysterical, she remained silent, tears streaming down her face, knowing what was about to come. Feeling his hands on either side of her head, she screamed as an unbearable pain shot through her body. She cried out Harry's name, before the darkness flooded back to take her, rendering her blissfully unconscious.

* * * * * *

The Malfoy's and their guests had been served dinner by the bustling house elves when the screams had issued from below. Chuckling, Lucius raised his wine goblet. “Looks like our guest wasn't forthcoming…..” he whispered to Antonin Dolohov and Macnair, who laughed with him, toasting their good success at escaping from Azkaban. Draco merely ate quietly, hoping that the screams would stop soon.

Six hours later, and the Malfoy mansion was black and silent. The Dark Lord had left in a hurry, furious at the lack of information bestowed on him. Draco could still hear his father's apologetic pleadings, which he thought to sound weak and foolish. Climbing out of bed, Draco crept through the dark halls filled with various family heirlooms, careful not to wake anybody. Grabbing his wand, he cast the `lumos' spell and made his way down to the dungeons, the place he had been warned as a child never to go alone.

Finding the cell, Draco found Hermione crumpled on the floor, legs drawn up in a fetal position. He gently lifted her from the floor and onto the blankets he had brought from upstairs, covering her as best he could. Roughly waking her, Draco gave her some water and bread. Before falling asleep, Hermione's tired hazel eyes met his cold grey ones

“I don't blame you.”

Hi there, I hope you are enjoying my Fic! Please keep reading and reviewing, I really appreciate your opinions! Also, this will NOT be a Draco/Hermione fic, so if that's what u r expecting, you'll be disappointed. He's simply gaining a conscience……. Next chapter up soon.

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