The New Lord of Godric Gryffindor by Cloud of Light Rating: PG13 Ship: Harry & Hermione Canon: Books 1 - 5 Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst Status: In progress Length: 9,036 words in 8 chapters Published: 17 Jan 2005 Last updated: 12 Apr 2005 The Wizarding World has changed for the worse. A coup has occured and a call to arms has been recieved. Chap.7 up! From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/3630/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 1. The New Lord Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Series. J.K beat me to it by a decade. And, I know this may shock some of you, but I do not own Hermione Granger. -Sniff- A/N 1: My view on what Albus's religion is only a guess, and I hope to offend no one. A/N 2: To make sure that you will always have something to read, I will try to update everyday, so I doubt I will have any very long chapters. Maybe an average of 4K or 5, but probably 3, and no less than 2. There will be many chapters though, and it will b a long story, and seems to progress slowly. Please Read and Review; it's what keeps me going. Chapter 1 The New Lord Weather forecasters called it the schizophrenic summer. The citizens of Surrey called it a pain in the arse. The weather that summer had been the most hectic in recent years. Meteorologists were baffled by it; it seemed to defy all of the laws of science, and anything they had learned over the years. Citizens were also annoyed by the increased number of people in Surrey, visiting. Most were visiting scientists, there to document the weather. Paul Kocin from the National Weather Service in the States was there. The most severe area the storm had affected was the hamlet of Little Whinging. Satellite imagery had shown that every change in the weather centered from there. It was a scientific anomaly. Whenever the temperature started to rise, it started there. Whenever the rain started, it was there. Whenever the temperature sunk, it started there. Whenever it started to snow, it happened there. And there wasn't even a significant body of water to start the precipitation. Today was the 31st of July, the 40th day of the turmoil. And the one person, who did know what was going on, had only just arrived. Most people did not even notice him. They were to busy shoveling out their cars, and driving to work. Occasionally, a small boy or girl would tug on the kind man's coat, and the man would smile and give the child a lemon drop. He would continue on his way, smiling along the way. He wore half moon spectacles, which brilliantly showed off his blue eyes. His white beard hung to his waist, and many teenagers would snicker and call him `Father Time,' or `Rip Van Winkle.' The man did not care, they were naïve, and would learn their lesson in due time. Walking into Little Whinging, he decided to slow his pace, since the person he was to meet would not wake for a scant few hours. He would look in little shop windows, his crooked nose almost touching the glass. He looked into toy stores at the innocent toddlers, as they clamored to buy a new train set. He looked in candy stores, at a mother buying her son a cake for his birthday. The fact that these people were still leading normal lives greatly joyed the man. Their ignorance of what danger was beyond the looking glass was their jewel. Yes, the man thought, Muggles were a lot simpler than wizards like him. As he made his way past Main Street, to the quiet streets of suburbia, he started to compare the changes that the area had over gone. Gone were some of the trees that had once dotted the land when he had been a lad. Gone were the Yankee soldiers, which were stationed here when he was at the ripe age of 104. And gone, was the air of jubilation and triumph that he had witnessed 15 years before. Time was a fickle thing, something that was gaining on the man. A man who was now at the old age of 155, soon to be 56 in November. His eyes still had the same twinkle they always had. His smile still had the same effect on the hearts of his students. Yet, his gait was not the same. It had slowed down, and almost had a limp to it. And his eyesight was only getting worse. Not only was age a fickle thing, it was a debilitating foe, one that slowly picked at your strength and features until it decided you were withered enough, and were whisked away to Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates. He figured he would soon meet this mythical figure in due time, as he thought he was long past his time to do. But, maybe He had left him on this earth, to guide his liege until he could do without him. His liege, his student, his surrogate son. All of these terms applied to the boy, no, young man he had come to meet. To finally fulfill his duty so he could pass on into eternity. No sooner did the thought cross his mind than when he looked up, and saw the street sign he saw 14 years ago, Halloween. The day he had brought his `son' to his relatives. The sign bore no sign of the time that had passed. It was still a grass green, with the white letters Privet Drive clearly standing out against it. Yes. Albus Dumbledore had come to his destination. ********** A troubled young man lay in his bed, miserable and sore. He was young, hardy, the erosion of time had not yet affected his physical features, but his mentality had seemingly gone through many decades of turmoil truly to only be 16. Tragedy had struck him again only a month before, striking a very critical blow. The person he had considered his father, had died at the hands of another, the minion of the man's mortal enemy. The man had lost many in his life. He had lost his Godfather, a worthy opponent, and his parents. He had lost everything he held dear, to one who had known nothing of what the man still had. Love, the thing that his Godfather and Parents had given him, was what his enemy had been deprived. It was also what his enemy hated, not out of hate, but envy. His only living relatives made sure to help the enemy, by depriving the boy of everything possible. “BOY!” yelled the man's uncle. “GET OUT HERE AND DIG OUT MY CAR!” The boy, now angry at his uncle, started to stomp out of the room. Albus had started to feel uncomfortable. The temperature had started to rise rapidly, and his thick cloak made him hot. Without a thought, he pulled out a long, thin rod of wood. If you were to look at it closely, you would see intricate carvings of a dragon, which snaked its way down the wood until it reached the ebony handle. It was a truly magnificent wand, the first creation of the current generation of Ollivander. With a simple swish of the wand, the mans cloak material had changed from a thick wool, to a soft and light silk. While looking up, he saw his liege leave his house. Once outside, he looked at his uncle's car, and went back inside. Soon after, his uncle came out, got into the car, and drove off. Albus thought back on his decision to leave his young `son' here. Sure, he was protected by the blood of his mother, through the blood of her sister. It was the best thing for the boy. Sad to think it, but yes, it was best for him, for without his upbringing, he would not have such a heart. Now, the man would wait, until he could see the boy, and fulfill his duty. He watched, and he waited. “FREAK!” screeched his retched aunt. “Yes Aunt Petunia?” “I am going out with Duddikins to the Polkiss's for tea, and I want the house THE SAEM AS I LEFT IT!” Angrily, the young man answered, through gritted teeth. “Yes Aunt Petunia.” Albus watched as the mans relatives left. Now he could finish up his work, and his life. The young man lay on the couch, glad to finally have time to relax. Ding, Dong. The young man got up, and strode to the door of the house. He twisted the knob, and opened the door. “Hello, Harry.” Albus looked at his son. He had a small smile on his face. Harry though, went through a myriad of emotion. First, surprise, then relief, and lastly, anger. “Come here to tell me more secrets, more truths that you have kept from me for all these years?” “Yes, I have Harry, to finish everything.” Harry was shocked for a second, and lost his sense of anger. “What have you come to tell me? And what do you mean `finish everything'?” “Let's step inside Harry, and take a seat. My bones ache.” Albus took a couple of labored steps, and gracefully fell into an armchair. “Yes, now, I have come to tell you everything, everything you need to know, must know and can know.” Albus looked at the Harry, and the young man nodded, and sat down to listen to his mentor. “The first thing I must tell you is your real name is not Harry Potter. It is Lord Harry Gryffindor.” A/N 2: YES HAHAHAHAHA, CLIFFIE! See that review button there? Click it, please. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 2. Fax Facis Frigus Disclaimer: Sadly, I still don't own this. But, the court cases are wearing down. A/N THANK YOU FOR THE REVEIWS. Now, send rubbing alcohol for my cut finger! “Who?” “You, Harry, are a descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Your father's great-great grandparents took the name Potter to protect them. And, as it is now 16th birthday, you are entitled to know.” Albus looked at Harry wearily, feeling the power draining from him, slowly, as if someone was slowly drinking away his powers, sip by sip. “Professor, how can that be possible? My name is Potter, not Gryffindor, WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE HERO!?” Harry stood; his face beat red, violent tears streaming down his flush cheeks. The prophecy, Sirius, and this, it was too much. “Harry, please, Silencio, Petrificus. Harry, I'm sorry for all I am dumping on you, but I must finish before you do not know it all. Harry, I am about to tell you every family secret, everything owned, and everything kept in your parents possession. Now, I ask you to please listen. Finite.” Harry, still upset and slightly peeved at Dumbledore, sat down, and prepared to listen to the one thing he had wanted to know. The truth, knowledge. “Now, first things first, what happened with Sirius. In his will, he gave Grimmauld Place to Remus, various monetary amounts to the order, and he left you, 100,000 Galleons.” Harry seemed to protest to this, but Albus raised a hand. “He knew you would not want it, so he gave you two choices. You could spend it on friends, family, or you could donate it to charity, or even start your own.” Satisfied with the contented look on Harry's face, he continued. “Now, you may have wondered how your parents accumulated so much money so quickly, right?” At Harry's nod, Albus drove on. “As you know, your father's friend Remus is a werewolf. Coupled with that, Lily's huge heart, and her close relationship with Remus, they, together, created the Wolfsbane Potion. It generated a lot of wealth for them, in a very short amount of time. That is how it happened, but I don't know anything beyond that general information. You'll have to ask Remus.” Harry had an awed look in his eyes, the result of understanding, and pride he felt for his parents. Albus had a proud look in his smile and eyes, but they were a façade. Albus needed to finish talking. He started to talk rapidly, trying to get everything out in time. “Now, another thing, being a Gryffindor should be kept a secret from your foes. Voldemort must not know. There are many things that will be passed on to you when you go to Gringotts this afternoon. Godric's Hollow, your parents' ancestral home, is now yours. And, if you don't know, the Ministry has passed a new law, making it legal for wizards and witches 16 years of age able to perform magic outside of school. You will be taken to the Hollow for the rest of the summer, and I already transferred many wards to that location.” Albus took a deep breath, and started to hack away violently for about half a minute. Harry looked on, a mixture of fear and horror. Albus Dumbledore was invincible, the most powerful wizard of all time, what is going on? Dumbledore looked like he had gained some wrinkles, and he started to tremor. “H-h-Harry, now you must know about your powers, everything else Remus and the Weasley's will tell you. Godric was an exceptional wizard, and had many different abilities to aid him to become as great as Rowena, Helga and Salazar. Firstly, he was an expert Elemental. He could control Air, Fire, Water and Earth, as if they were chess pieces when he played against Salazar. You have just manifested this ability, but you need to learn to control. I dare say Hermione should be able to help you there. Secondly, he was a great swordsmen, a natural talent. You showed that with his sword in the Chamber. You will receive the sword when you get to Hogwarts, and carry it with you at all times.” The tremors started to get worse, the Professor now constantly sputtering. He bared on through it. “Thirdly, he was a master of wandless magic. You have shown this ability before too, in simple spells, like the Lumos spell you used in the alley a year ago, without your wand?” Albus forced a smile here, but started to cough from trying to do this, blood now starting to come up. “Another power, is the power of the Animagi. Not only will you start to learn this with Professor Mcgannogal. Not only will you have 1 shape, Harry, but you will have multiple shapes. Godric could change into 8 different animals, and I think you could do the same.” The tremor worsened, and Dumbledore pitched himself onto the floor, now breathing deeply, his skin pasty white. Harry quickly knelt beside him, trying to help him. “No Harry, no, let me be, it is my time. But one more thing. Your last power, one Godric used above all, most, was, was…….it was love Harry, and that it the power that will defeat Voldemort. No one knows what happened, but Harry, you will soon realize the other piece in your life, and she will help you, to defeat……………..him.” The Professor started to slow his movements. His skin, when Harry touched it, as cold, cold like a dementor. Harry stared at his fallen Professor. Albus Dumbldore, a man said to be immortal, without a means of death, had succumbed to the boundries of his mortal life. A/N: Sad Chapter. PLEASE R/R IT DRIVES ME. I might not have anything till weekend, I need to plan ahead a bit, and do homework. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 3. Healing Disclaimer: Blah Blah, I don't own Harry, blah. A/N1: I can see you are all sad, upset, or seething at the fact that Dumbledore is dead. Sadly, it had to happen. Just for sake of the story, since this is about Harry learning to discover things on his own, and not rely on Dumbledore or Hermione. And, for future references, THIS IS A/U. THIS INCLUDES SOME THEROY'S AND SUCH FROM HARRY POTTER BOOKS, WEBSITES AND MORE. Cite Harry Potter Mysteries, books 1-4, for some of them. Now, on with the story, and if anyone could be nice enough, could you recommend this in the recommendation forum? THANK YOU; I LOVE ALL OF MY REVIEWERS! And I would love more of you if you would Review, not pass over this and just read? THANK YOU! “Sweetie, your father and I are going out to dinner. If you could, could you take out the garbage? We'll be back at 11!” Hermione Jane Granger listened as her parents started up their car and drove off into Downtown London, a long trip from their Professor's House in Oxford. Her father taught Shakespearean Literature at the University, and they lived only a couple blocks from the campus. That was how Hermione got her name, and how she had such a fondness for Literature herself. She started giggling to herself as she remember the first time she had ever read a book, well, her parents saw she had read her `first' book. “Robert, I'm worried.” “Emily, settle down, Hermione will read when she wants to. The doctor said it was normal to not be able to read by age 7. She's just a bit slow on the uptake is all.” “Well, I'm going to go see if she wants to listen to Dr. Seuss.” Her mother started upstairs, reached her daughters door, and opened it, and nearly fainted at the sight. Hermione was reading! Not even that, she was reading Jack London's Call of the Wild. “Ahem?” Hermione looked up and saw her mother, and started to blush. She had been stealing her father's books from the library to read for the past 3 years. She never read in front of her parents, because she wanted it to be quiet, and not have to listen to her mother squeal when she read. Besides, quieter to read in your mind then out loud. Hermione smiled to herself. Her mother had been so proud, yet a little discontented that day. Anyone could see her love of books, just by seeing her room. It was painted a pale blue, white trimming painted on the edges. Along 2 of her walls were books, magical and non-magical. Standard Book of Spells, A Tale of Two Cities, Defense Theory, The Complete Collection of Rod Serling. And along the top of her bookcases were various pictures. There was one of Her, Harry and Ron during fourth year, by the lake. Ron would make bunny ears behind her head, and then Harry would stomp on his foot. Next to that was a picture of her parents, then a picture of Ginny, and the last picture her most favorite of all. One day Colin had come down early, and it was the night after Sirius had seen Harry in the common room. He was asleep on the couch, and I had collapsed on top of him, using his arm as a semi blanket. Colin, of course, ran back up into the dormitories, and had gotten his camera and had taken a picture. It cost me 5 Galleons to get that picture back, and it was well worth it. Suddenly, she heard a tapping at her window, and turned to see a certain Snowy Owl looking at her. “Hedwig, what are you doing here?” She walked over to Hedwig, and saw the Daily Prophet in his beak. “What is this girl?” She took the newspaper from her, and gently padded her head, earning her a nice little nip. Smiling, Hermione opened the paper up and looked at the front page article. She immediately dropped the paper, her mouth open in shock. 8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 The accounts on how Harry was found differed from person to person. Some of the Order members say he was pounding on the Professor's chest, yelling at him for leaving him in this mess. Some said he was bawling over the Professor's body. But, Remus told him they found him gently shaking the Professor's arm, telling him to wake up. That's why Harry was now in St. Mungo's, undergoing therapy for the trauma they said he had taken on. He had been there for three days, and was almost about to be released. As he came to the reception area, Remus greeted him. “Let's go Harry.” Harry remembered on his way out, someone talking about the Prophet article in the Evening Post she had gotten that night. 8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Headmaster of Hogwarts Dead! In an important press release made by Current Headmistress McGonagall this morning, she has told the press that Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Head of The Wizengamot, Headmaster at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is dead after 155 years. McGonagall has refused to say where he was found, only to say the Headmaster had been sick for several days before. In other news, Harry Potter was brought to St. Mungo's three days ago……… Hermione looked at the paper in shock, but regained her composure and started throwing things in her trunk. She was going to Grimmauld Place. A/N 2: Well, there ya go. Now, WHERE'S THAT DAMN UBBING ALCOHOL! Oh, and Review just down there, where that little box is, you know, you type words in it, then click review and jump to next, right? Right? And Go Sauron, Heir of Voldemort is looking great. Read that too guys. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 4. Mourning and Secrets Disclaimer: I own el Zilcho A/N: Damn Microsoft word is acting funny. Well, here's the next Chapter for New Lord. I didn't get many reviews for the last chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! Lol, ok now for the story. “What did you say?” “Miss Granger, you are to stay here at your own home.” “I WANT TO SEE HARRY!” Hermione Granger and new Headmistress McGonagall were fighting with each other in the Granger's front foyer. Hermione's bags lay to the side, near the door, but she was being denied permission to leave to see Harry. Hermione was furious, and had already broken two of her mother's vases with uncontrolled magic. McGonagall was keeping her cool, something she had learned from the recently departed Albus Dumbledore. “Miss Granger, calm down for one minute.” There was the old Minerva. “Why, so you can restrain me from leaving to see Harry at Grimmauld Place?” Minerva tsked. She knew her star pupil was a stubborn witch, but not like this. But of course, when the subject was Harry Potter, she knew he would never back down. Knowing she could not delay her any longer, she decided to tell her the truth. “No, so I could restrain you from going to see Harry at Godric's Hollow.” Hermione was taken aback by this statement. “Uh, did you just say, Godric's Hollow?” “Yes Miss Granger, Godric's Hollow. Mr. Lupin has taken Mr. Potter to Godric's Hollow. He has inherited his parent's estate, and has gone to settle in to his new home. I'm sure you know the Ministry lowered the age of adulthood to 16?” Hermione looked at her for a second, blinked, and replied. “Yes, vaguely Pro- I mean Headmistress.” “There is no need for sarcasm Miss Granger, so…” “TAKE ME TO GODRIC'S HOLLOW!” Minerva sighed. There was no stopping this blasted girl. Not even for 1,000,000,000 Galleons would she back down. “… FINE… Miss Granger, follow me, and I will take you to Marauder Cottage.” 888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 “Here we are Harry, your home.” Harry stood in a mix of shock and awe. The house, his real home, it was there. Remus told him the wards rebuilt it, but it looked as if, to him, that it was exactly what it looked like before his parents died. He looked around the family room. At least an inch of dust covered everything around him. He saw a pot of Floo Powder above the fireplace, a grand mahogany one. The room looked like the Gryffindor Common room. It was a maroon and golden mix, with maroon furniture, golden paint, and a cherry wood floor. There was a desk by the door, and covered in dust, seemed to be his father's glasses. Harry gently picked up the frames. He lightly brushed the dust off, and replaced them with his own. The prescription was almost identical. He took them off and examined them closely. The frame was made of solid silver, trimmed with gold paint. The oval frames seemed to be a crown for a king, but they were only glasses for a lord. As he brushed more dust off, he saw an engraving along the left side of the frame. To my beloved fiancé, who I could never take a breath without. Lily Harry could feel the wetness creeping in his eyes, and he let the silent tears drop. He gently laid the glasses down, and continued on past the kitchen, and dining room, and started upstairs. He looked at the pictures adorning the walls. There were ones of his mother, laying with his baby self in what seemed to be the field out back. He looked on, pictures of his mum and dad, pictures of all of them, pictures of just Harry. Harry reached the landing, and looked down the hall at the three doors. One was the master bedroom, one was the bathroom, and the last, his. Harry slowly stepped inside. He immediately saw the green wall, something his mother probably picked out because of his eyes. He slowly approached his crib. He gently slid his fingers across the wall of the crib, collecting 15 years of dust. He looked at the mobile that hung above his bed. It was made up of a broomstick, a snitch, a quaffle and two bludgers. He then looked at the spot directly in front of his crib. The spot where his mother lost her life. The spot where HE ruined his life. The spot, that condemned him to years of abuse and slave work at the Dursley's. The spot where Harry lay and sobbed for the next hour, constantly asking why. Why Dumbledore had to die. Why Sirius had to die. Why Cedric had to die. Why his father had to die. Why his mother had to die Why? God, Why? 88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Hermione walked up the dirt path. Godric's Hollow, Wales. It was beautiful, the leaves the perfect hue of green, which lined the path to the cottage she saw in the distance. Leaves blew around her feet, a result of the wind blowing through the forest. Her wavy brown curls bounced and swayed in the wind, her cinnamon eyes alight with delight. She would finally see Harry. Her Harry 88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Remus sat in the living area, letting Harry have his time alone. He deserved it. He looked around the room, at all of the familiar objects inside. He looked at the glasses on the desk. He remembered these quite well. 88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Hermione gently knocked on the door. She patiently waited for about 10 seconds until Remus answered the door. “Hermione, it's you. Come to see Harry? Well, he's upstairs, but I wouldn't…” “Too bad.” Hermione marched past him, towards the stairs. “And by the way Remus, I didn't know you wore glasses.” “Yes, well, I got these many years ago from a very special person.” “Okay Remus.” Hermione marched up the steps, intent on crushing Harry to death. 88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Remus watched her go up, and whispered. “Yes, a very, very special person Hermione.” He set his gaze slowly on the picture of Lily on the table, blowing kisses at him. A/N2: HAHAHAHAHA, still keeping my updates constant. PLEASE REVIEW, 3,000 hits an only 50 reveiws is NOT a good ratio. If you review, I promise to answer one question you ask in the review, if you tell me to reply with an answer. A/N3: A CONTEST FOR ALL OF MY READERS OUT THERE! If you guess who will be the first to die correctly, you will be given the award of Seer of Portkey.org BUWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 5. Feelings and Discovery Disclaimer: Do I have to do this EVERY chapter? I hate copyright laws. A/N: Well, so far no one has been named a seer. No one can tell who's going to die next. Sauron of Mordor, good guess. I'd also like to thank him for recommending my story on the Rec boards. Now, ON WITH THE STORY. And, attention, on Saturday I will post two chapters that day, to try and compete with Amy Noelle and Heaven. (Yea, as if anything could compete) So check the site in the morning and afternoon. Without further ado, ON with the chapter. A/N: I also base What Hermione first says, on the fact she doesn't get it, like how she tries to liberate house elves when they don't want to be liberated. A/N This will have James and Lily as Harry's parents, don't worry. Scene 5, Act I Harry heard a creak outside of the door, which immediately welled up his tears. He turned to see Hermione in the doorway, her hands on her hips. Hermione slowly walked over to him. “Harry, why are you crying? Aren't you happy to be back here?” Harry couldn't believe what he heard Hermione just say. Probably the most inconsiderate statement he had ever heard her say. “Why, WHY? MAYBE BECAUSE MY MOTHER WAS MURDERED RIGHT IN THIS SPOT? MAYBE BECAUSE THE CLOSEST TTHING TO A FATHER I HAD DIED 44 DAYS AGO! MAYBE BECAUSE THE ONE PERSON WHO COULD TEACH ME TO DEFEAT VOLDEMORT, MAYBE…” “HARRY STOP IT!” Hermione was in tears, her face beat red. “Harry, I'm sorry, but I just don't know about these feelings, okay? I'm sorry.” Harry's heart softened. He couldn't stand to see Hermione cry, it upset him as well. Her tears made him mad at himself, mad at being a prat. “Hermione, I'm sorry, it's just, It's all so much, him dying, Sirius, and seeing the spot where my mother saved me.” “Well, we could talk about…” “No, Hermione,” he said curtly. “Not yet, okay, I just don't want to talk about it yet.” “But you would...” “Hermione.” Harry said with his voice rising. He didn't want to argue with her now. “Okay Harry, okay. I'll drop it, but what did you mean, the only one who could help you defeat Volde…” “Not here. I'll tell you tonight, okay? Not here.” Hermione looked at Harry, her eyebrows raised. “Okay then, we'll talk about it tonight.” Hermione's patience was wearing thin. She looked around the room. “Uh, Harry? You don't plan on sleeping in that crib, do you?” “Why yes I do” “Don't be sarcastic Harry; let me transfigure it into a bed.” “No!” “Why?” “Just, don't, let this room be, please? For now?” “Well, alright fine.” Hermione pocketed her wand, and walked out of the room to the master bedroom. “How about here Harry?” “Uh, sure, just make two beds, out of my parents' bed. I don't want to sleep on that thing.” Hermione giggled, knowing exactly what Harry was thinking. “Okay then,” Hermione said as she faced the bed. “Seperatus Emperus Mattersa.” The bed split apart, and seemed to regrow, until there were two separate king size beds. “There, I pick the one with the periwinkle covers; you can have the green one.” “Hermione, where do you learn this stuff?” She shrugged. “Library?” Harry laughed, and began to examine the room. It had a sandy eggshell paint, with a white trim on the top. The carpet was a crimson red hue, with maroon drapes on the windows. The mahogany dresser against the east wall had a large vanity mirror, but disoriented his reflection due to the years of dust collecting on it. Harry went up to it, and traced his finger along the mirror, collecting the dust on his finger. He sighed, and decided to go downstairs and see Remus. Hermione watched him leave, and silently tip-toed over to the mirror, a grin on her face. She looked at the mirror, and traced her fingers along the mirror in different letters. “Hermione!?” “Coming!” As she left, the sun shone on the mirror through the window, highlighting what she wrote. 1980 JP + LE 1996 HP + HG 8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 After Remus had left, Harry and Hermione sat down in the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make for dinner. “Harry, are you really hungry? I don't want to look up food conjuring spells at this time.” Harry pouted, and then gave in. “Okay fine. Would you like to take a walk with me? I haven't seen the ground in the back yet.” Hermione laughed at his extended lower lip, and regained herself. “Sure, let me get my jacket on.” Hermione ran upstairs to the master bedroom to grab her jacket, and looked over at what she had written earlier. She wiped it away, in fear of Harry's seeing, and ran back downstairs. “Let's go.” 8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 “Hermione, this place is beautiful.” Harry was speaking of the magnificent field behind the house. It was like a meadow, and on the other side there seemed to be a gate. The gate was a pearly white, like Hermione's perfect teeth. It seemed to have been kept up, and was beautiful. Hermione looked at Harry mischievously. “Want to race to the gate? Loser has to tell Snape he's your favorite teacher.” Harry looked at Hermione, and grinned. “You're on.” “Okay Harry, ready, set…” “Petrificus Totalus!” Hermione was immediately frozen in her spot, as Harry ran away laughing. He then turned back to her. “Finite.” Hermione immediately turned red, her voice bellowing through the trees. “HARRY YOU PRAT!” 8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 Harry was sitting against the gate when Hermione came. “You know, it would be better for you if you got some exercise, then maybe you could run a little faster.” Hermione just had to send her glare, and Harry shut up. “Well, let's go in…prat.” Harry followed Hermione inside, and gasped at the site before him. A/N: HELLO CLIFFIE. Lol, it's been a while, hasn't it? Well, we haven't found our Seer yet. I can't believe no one has figured it out yet? And a question, do any of you know if stories have to have a chapter limit? Because I'm afraid Portkey might take away my story because it's 150 1K word chapters. And I don't want to remove chapters and lose reviews. PLEASE TELL ME!!!!???? Well, anyways, PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! Chapter 2 got a lot, but it's started to taper off. Also, I will have a poll. If you review, please pick from the next three to fine Harry and Hermione in a compromising position. 1. Remus 2. Robert Granger 3. Ron HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 6. Tears in the Garden Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, haven't those damn lawyers realized that yet. The aroma was the first thing that hit them. The wafting scent ensnared their nostrils, leading their minds to a far off place, into oblivion. The air was pure, nothing tainting it at all, nothing hindering the natural smell of the find. Lilies The area behind the gate was a beautiful garden, as if this was the 2nd coming of Eden. The Lilies were right up in the front, the first thing you saw when you would come in. Red Roses of Passion, Daisy's, and Morning Glories. The air was clear; you could see the other end of the garden, almost 200 yards away. The size was magical itself. The mist that covered their bodies seemed to be everlasting, keeping their arms moist. The mist created a rainbow, which finished the scene; it was worthy enough to rival The Last Supper, in its power, its beauty. The radiance abounds, Hermione took a few scant steps in, and stunned, taken aback by the beauty of what she thought should be Eden. “It's beautiful; did your mother plant this?” She looked behind her for Harry, but saw he wasn't there. She looked around, and finally spotted him. He was kneeling along some lilies, down the row. He seemed to just be staring at them, a pensive look on his face. He was tracing his fingers along the lilies. Hermione walked down, and slowly kneeled beside him. “Lilies, my dad must have planted these for my mum.” Hermione looked at him. She could feel his grief at finding these flowers. “Harry…” He looked up at her, and she leaned over and gave him a quick hug. Harry embraced her, and hugged her tight before pulling back. “I took you out here for a reason Hermione. I have to tell you something.” “What is it Harry?” “Remember the prophecy that got smashed at the Department of Mysteries a month ago?” “Yes Harry, but it broke, what else is there to know about it?” “I heard what it said. Dumbledore heard the prophecy originally given 16 years ago. He…he told me what it said.” “What did it say Harry?” Harry sighed, and he got up. He looked at the sun setting behind the trees of the forest, giving the garden an ethereal glow. Slowly, he began to recite. “THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…. BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICED DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND WITHER 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. . . .” Harry turned back to her, his eyes downcast, looking at the ground, his hair gently blowing in the wind. His cloak billowed in the wind, and he was silhouetted against the setting sun. Hermione stood, awed by the news, looking at what she knew as the savior of the world. She slowly got up, and embraced him. No, she couldn't lose him. He was her everything, her sun, her Harry. A sadistic bastard like Tom Riddle would not take him away. She would help him; she would make sure he would defeat the Dark Lord, no matter what. Harry looked down at her, and placed a hand on her hair. It amazed him. Only 5 years ago, they were the same height. Adolescence had changed them a lot from that time. Her eyes only made it to his chest, and she had filled out, and was now a shapely young woman. Her hair was now graceful, bouncy curls instead of the frizz that was once there. She had grown up, and was now a woman. At the same time Hermione looked up at Harry. Gone was the clumsy 11 year old who had trouble finding his way onto the train. Before her stood a strapping man, who now had a defined form, instead of a scrawny body. His hair was just as messy as it always had been, but was fuller, richer than it was. And his eyes, those eyes that could light up the night, or blaze a path through the sky, they were even sharper now. “That isn't all Hermione.” Hermione looked up at him. “What else is there? WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE DUMPED ON?!” Tears were forming in her eyes, and she lightly pounded on his chest. “Hermione,” he croaked out, saddened by her tears. “It's not horrible. It actually, it gives me hope that maybe I do have the power to defeat him.” “What is it?” “My name, it isn't Potter, or at least my real name isn't.” Hermione was puzzled. “What are they Harry?” “My name, it's Gryffindor. My family changed their name to Potter to protect themselves.” Hermione stared at him. How, was it possible? In Hogwarts, A History, it did say that the Gryffindor's changed their name, but it never mentioned what the name was. It made sense. He was able to pull out the Sword of Gryffindor in second year, she believed him. “What does this mean Harry?” “Dumbledore, before he died, he quickly told me about it. I inherited Godric's power, and have 5 of them. One is the power of the Elements; I can control Earth, Wind, Water and Fire. Second, he told me I am a natural swordsman, and so was my father. I can do wandless magic, and I can have multiple Animagi forms. He said it so quick, this is all I know. Lastly, he told me something, something about Love, I don't know.” “Harry, I will help you. I will make sure you can defeat him; I will make sure you will master your powers. I don't want to lose you, and through my help I will make sure I won't.” Hermione sobbed, and slowly sank to the ground, the moonlight making her a mere shadow. Harry knelt beside her, and held her, both of them on their knees. She was sobbing, and Harry patted her back, and gently moved tendrils of her hair out of her face. She slowly moved down to the ground, tired from her sobbing and falling asleep. Harry stayed at her side all night, holding her as she wept; until they bother fell asleep, the lilied blowing by their faces, the moon illuminating their bodies along the hard earth. A/N: Sorry for the delay. I had a snow drift covering my door, so I had to dig all through the weekend. That and personal reasons. (I.E. G/f) have kept me from updating. I'm back on schedule now, but have a monster cold, so I might not update tomorrow. Please review, they are all encouraging, and I love the input I get. It also gives me some ideas. And if you review, you get Portkey Points, don't forget that. Toodles. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 7. Tears in the Garden Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, haven't those damn lawyers realized that yet. The aroma was the first thing that hit them. The wafting scent ensnared their nostrils, leading their minds to a far off place, into oblivion. The air was pure, nothing tainting it at all, nothing hindering the natural smell of the find. Lilies The area behind the gate was a beautiful garden, as if this was the 2nd coming of Eden. The Lilies were right up in the front, the first thing you saw when you would come in. Red Roses of Passion, Daisy's, and Morning Glories. The air was clear; you could see the other end of the garden, almost 200 yards away. The size was magical itself. The mist that covered their bodies seemed to be everlasting, keeping their arms moist. The mist created a rainbow, which finished the scene; it was worthy enough to rival The Last Supper, in its power, its beauty. The radiance abounds, Hermione took a few scant steps in, and stunned, taken aback by the beauty of what she thought should be Eden. “It's beautiful; did your mother plant this?” She looked behind her for Harry, but saw he wasn't there. She looked around, and finally spotted him. He was kneeling along some lilies, down the row. He seemed to just be staring at them, a pensive look on his face. He was tracing his fingers along the lilies. Hermione walked down, and slowly kneeled beside him. “Lilies, my dad must have planted these for my mum.” Hermione looked at him. She could feel his grief at finding these flowers. “Harry…” He looked up at her, and she leaned over and gave him a quick hug. Harry embraced her, and hugged her tight before pulling back. “I took you out here for a reason Hermione. I have to tell you something.” “What is it Harry?” “Remember the prophecy that got smashed at the Department of Mysteries a month ago?” “Yes Harry, but it broke, what else is there to know about it?” “I heard what it said. Dumbledore heard the prophecy originally given 16 years ago. He…he told me what it said.” “What did it say Harry?” Harry sighed, and he got up. He looked at the sun setting behind the trees of the forest, giving the garden an ethereal glow. Slowly, he began to recite. “THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…. BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICED DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND WITHER 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. . . .” Harry turned back to her, his eyes downcast, looking at the ground, his hair gently blowing in the wind. His cloak billowed in the wind, and he was silhouetted against the setting sun. Hermione stood, awed by the news, looking at what she knew as the savior of the world. She slowly got up, and embraced him. No, she couldn't lose him. He was her everything, her sun, her Harry. A sadistic bastard like Tom Riddle would not take him away. She would help him; she would make sure he would defeat the Dark Lord, no matter what. Harry looked down at her, and placed a hand on her hair. It amazed him. Only 5 years ago, they were the same height. Adolescence had changed them a lot from that time. Her eyes only made it to his chest, and she had filled out, and was now a shapely young woman. Her hair was now graceful, bouncy curls instead of the frizz that was once there. She had grown up, and was now a woman. At the same time Hermione looked up at Harry. Gone was the clumsy 11 year old who had trouble finding his way onto the train. Before her stood a strapping man, who now had a defined form, instead of a scrawny body. His hair was just as messy as it always had been, but was fuller, richer than it was. And his eyes, those eyes that could light up the night, or blaze a path through the sky, they were even sharper now. “That isn't all Hermione.” Hermione looked up at him. “What else is there? WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE DUMPED ON?!” Tears were forming in her eyes, and she lightly pounded on his chest. “Hermione,” he croaked out, saddened by her tears. “It's not horrible. It actually, it gives me hope that maybe I do have the power to defeat him.” “What is it?” “My name, it isn't Potter, or at least my real name isn't.” Hermione was puzzled. “What are they Harry?” “My name, it's Gryffindor. My family changed their name to Potter to protect themselves.” Hermione stared at him. How, was it possible? In Hogwarts, A History, it did say that the Gryffindor's changed their name, but it never mentioned what the name was. It made sense. He was able to pull out the Sword of Gryffindor in second year, she believed him. “What does this mean Harry?” “Dumbledore, before he died, he quickly told me about it. I inherited Godric's power, and have 5 of them. One is the power of the Elements; I can control Earth, Wind, Water and Fire. Second, he told me I am a natural swordsman, and so was my father. I can do wandless magic, and I can have multiple Animagi forms. He said it so quick, this is all I know. Lastly, he told me something, something about Love, I don't know.” “Harry, I will help you. I will make sure you can defeat him; I will make sure you will master your powers. I don't want to lose you, and through my help I will make sure I won't.” Hermione sobbed, and slowly sank to the ground, the moonlight making her a mere shadow. Harry knelt beside her, and held her, both of them on their knees. She was sobbing, and Harry patted her back, and gently moved tendrils of her hair out of her face. She slowly moved down to the ground, tired from her sobbing and falling asleep. Harry stayed at her side all night, holding her as she wept; until they bother fell asleep, the lilied blowing by their faces, the moon illuminating their bodies along the hard earth. A/N: Sorry for the delay. I had a snow drift covering my door, so I had to dig all through the weekend. That and personal reasons. (I.E. G/f) have kept me from updating. I'm back on schedule now, but have a monster cold, so I might not update tomorrow. Please review, they are all encouraging, and I love the input I get. It also gives me some ideas. And if you review, you get Portkey Points, don't forget that. Toodles. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 8. Coup and Change A/N: I deserve a swift kick in the ass, don't I? I've left my poor baby in the cold for about 2 months now. Probably lost some readers. Hope I can get them back with this. Please review, it only takes a small amount of time but makes a great effect on my motivation and self-esteem. Chapter 7 `The only one he had ever feared' The Ministry is ablaze. The death of Albus Dumbledore had rocked the core of the British Wizarding World. At the forefront of the uproar was the loss of what most of the world considered the only one He ever feared. The people had right worry to be anxious after that event. A week after the passing of Dumbledore, while The Boy Who Lived is missing, Minister Fudge was killed in an assassination at his summer home in Dover. The Dark Mark had been found on his arm. He was back. Now the Ministry has been uprooted, and darkness has befallen us all. A coup occurred only hours after the death was reported. The new Minister of Magic is now Antonin Dolohov. The 2nd battle for the Ministry saw almost all of the Aurors killed. The rest turned on their weakened comrades and killed them in cold blood. It is now no doubt that the government is being controlled by Him. Foreign Ministries have abandoned us, wishing to escape the control of Him. They prepare for the oncoming invasion, the cowards. The new Ministry looks like this: Head of Magical Cooperation: Lucius Malfoy Head of Dept. of Magical Law Enforcement: Bellatrix Lestrange Head of Magical Games and Sports: Theodore Nott Sr. Head of Control of Magical Creatures: Mulciber Jr. Minister of Magic: Percival Weasley Sr. Asst. Minister of Magic: Avery Many new laws have been passed, effective as of now. The legal killing of any MuggleBorns has been legalized. So has the slavery, and kidnapping of Muggles themselves. The Wizengamot has been disbanded, as have all Quidditch teams in England. From now on, the (sic) hunt of MuggleBorns is the official sport of England. Any and all displays of displeasure of the new Ministry are forbidden. People, we are now the slaves of a bloodthirsty tyrant! We must rise up! LONG LIVE ENGLAND, LONG LIVE ENGL-! By: Rita Skeeter That was the front page article of the Daily Prophet. People knew what it meant. It was a message to scare them all, to make them submit. But the article in The Weekly Phoenix gave them hope, and a mission. People! I have a message, a massage to save your lives, a message of freedom. Hogwarts still stands! People, go to Scotland. The New Ministry has been set up there! We will prevail! The Spirit of Albus Dumbledore closes its gates on the Death Eaters. Hogwarts is our saving grace! The New Ministry governs all of Scotland, free of the reign of England. They have set up a defensive line at Hadrian's Wall, the frontline of the fighting. The army needs you. Every able-bodied wizard over 17 is asked to join, to save our lives! We must fight and die, as living a lie is the biggest shame any of us could ever have! The call has been raised. ALL TO THE LANDS OF GRYFFINDOR! By: Rita Skeeter The call had been sent. People flooded to Scotland. One family was divided in its choice. “Honey, we must go. Molly, the Burrow will always be our home. But home has no meaning when you are dead.” “I know Arthur, but it's so hard to go, all our memories are here. This home reminds me of when he……” “I know Molly, but the other children have a right to live.” “Your right Arthur, YOU'RE RIGHT! We have to go… for the children.” “I know you're upset. Bill and Charlie, Fred and George all are joining the Battalion. But think of Ron and Ginny. They both are still our babies. We need to protect them.” “Yes, right. Well, I'll go and collect them. Make sure all of the things are safe. I…heard there is no room for many belongings.” “Okay Molly.” With that, Arthur stepped outside, while his wife went for his children. He gathered everything out there, and brought it in to the living room. The whole room was filled with all the belongings of the Weasley Family. As his wife came down, they grabbed all their suitcases and one trunk filled with personals. They stepped outside, onto the front lawn, and walked up the path leading to Stoatshead hill, the location of the Portkey. Arthur Weasley stayed back as his family walked up the path. He turned to the home, and waved his wand in an intricate manner. The house began to get smaller. The home sunk into the ground, as a century old charm on the home took effect. The burrow went underground, to prevent the Death Eaters from seizing it. Arthur took a moment to make sure it was right, and walked up the path after his family. After a few moments, a red headed girl darted back down the path, to where the house once lay. She kneeled down a moment to where the living room once was, and then got up and left. Hours later, when the Death Eaters came, they received one big earful, from a Howler addressed from Molly Weasley. A/N: Well, the story is on once again. Thank you for all your reviews, they drive me to write more and satisfy your taste for a good story.