Harry Potter and the Types of Magic

LordChandler

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 04/06/2007
Last Updated: 16/06/2007
Status: in_progress

This is a repost of my old story under the same name. The Trio set out to stop Voldemort, but to win, they must learn that there are many types of magic.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter Two: The Dursley's

1. Prologue

A/N: This is my first real attempt at starting a fanfic. It will be action and adventure, with some big battle scenes and some smaller ones. There will also be romance, for how real is teenage life without romance?

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost of the story so if it seems at all familiar, it is probably because you read it before. I am going to try and iron out some flaws that you guys pointed out, and then get back to posting.

Prologue

The wind howled, driving the rain horizontally through the streets of night time London. The rain swept streets were completely devoid of human life, no-one wanting to be out on such a night. Only the faint noises of the sleeping city could be heard.

Suddenly, a loud crack broke the silence, startling a nearby cat that had been rooting through some garbage. A blond haired man was suddenly standing in the center of the deserted street. He looked around, and then sped off down the street, his shoes clacking loudly on the hard concrete. He reached a side alley, and he darted down it.

He continued down the alleyway for several moments, before a noise at his back startled him. He stopped, and looked over his shoulder. In the mouth of the alley, there was a figure, long cloak billowing and blocking out the light of the alley way.

The blond-haired man spun quickly on his heel, but when he executed the turn, he found himself still staring at the figure at the end of the passage way.

“Let me go.” The man pleaded softly, his voice tinged with fear.

“I've been waiting for you.” It said, pleasantly, as though it hadn't heard the man's plea. The blond haired man turned full around, hand buried in his coat, grasping at something. The thing blocking the entrance way shook its head, and brought its hand up, pointing the open palm at the blond man. The fingers closed, and the man in the alley fell to his knees, gasping for breath. It opened its mouth to speak, and this time there was nothing pleasant about the voice now.

“We can't be having any of that can we?” it menaced, its voice filled with hatred, anger, and undeniable power and authority.

“No. I'm afraid that you will not be leaving here alive. Your little friends can never retrieve the information you are carrying. It's much too valuable. If you would be so kind, please, hand it over.” It asked its voice again pleasant. His hand opened again, and the man fell flat to his face, gasping in great quantities of air. His hand continued to grope beneath his coat.

“Go to hell, you bastard!” The fallen man gasped, his voice carrying through the still night air. The figure at the mouth of the alley way shook his head in a most disappointed manner.

“You could have just given it to me, and died peacefully. Unfortunately, your time has run out. Goodbye!” It roared, flicking its hand forward, sending the cringing man flying into a wall, where his neck snapped with a sickening crunch. The figure now beckoned with his hand, drawing the corpse toward him. It floated eerily along the ground, and stopped, hovering a foot from the figure, who reached out, and grasped it by the shirt.

“Your rest shall not be so peaceful. You will serve a much greater purpose now.” It whispered, almost lovingly, before it disappeared noiselessly into the night.

A/N: I know this doesn't seem like much, but it will be relevant later in the story. I beg you, don't be dissuaded from reading if this seems odd, it will all work out in the end.

Thank you,

Dave

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2. Chapter Two: The Dursley's

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, places, or ideas brought from by J.K Rowling. Other then that, they are mine.

A/N: Ok. Hope you liked the prologue. Several of the things will be important later. Anyone care to venture a guess as to the greater purpose? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Alright, as of NOW, this is the beginning of the revamped version of the story, and I hope to eliminate some errors and hopefully improve the story. Thoughts on the improved version would be greatly appreciated.

Chapter One

The car ride back the Dursley's residence had been awkward. None of them had spoken a word since leaving King's Cross. The Dursley's were even more uncomfortable around Harry then usual. Harry, however, had given no thought to the Dursley's at all.

Hermione and Ron, despite their earlier promise to go with him to his aunt and uncle's house, had been begged by their parents to go back to their homes for at least a few days before they went away. Hermione's parents were under the impression that she would just be staying at the Burrow, and Ron had told his parents that they were just going to visit Godric's Hollow and stay a while at Grimmauld.

Although he had told them that he would see them in a few days, and after receiving one particularly tight hug from Hermione, another from Mrs. Weasley, and a fatherly clap on the shoulder from Mr. Weasley, he had clambered into the Dursley's car, secretly happy that he wouldn't have to deal with his friends while he sorted out his thoughts.

Those aforementioned thoughts were racing with everything that had happened over the last few weeks. The Horcruxes, Dumbledore, Ginny, the locket, Snape, Malfoy. Harry's head hung down on his chest, and he was dozing fitfully. His dreams were dark, and he unconsciously wrapped his hand tight around the false Horcrux in his pocket.

Harry was jerked away by his Uncle Vernon slamming the door on the car and stalking away toward number Four Privet Drive. Harry unbuckled himself, and shuffled to the side, and opened the door. The sun was already dipping low in the sky. He wondered why it took so long for them to return to the house, but he shrugged it off, realizing that the train back had left later than usual, and that, combined with the extended security on the Platform, had added almost three hours to the over all journey.

After he got out, he stretched his arms upward, and rolled his head from side to side. He had been sleeping uncomfortably in the car, and he was paying for it now. He shuffled round to the back of the car, and saw that the boot was not open. Sighing, he walked round to the front door, and opening it, reached inside, and popped the boot.

He could feel a touch of anger rising within him. He hadn't even set foot in the Dursley's home, and already they were grating on his nerves. Slamming the front door on Vernon's precious car, Harry moved back to the rear, and tugged his trunk free of the boot. He would have loved to levitate the thing out, and watched the horrified reactions of the snobby residents of Privet Drive. He cracked a slight smile, and then continued to lug the heavy trunk to the house. It wasn't worth messing with the Ministry right now, not when he had so much to accomplish.

As he entered the house, he slammed the door angrily, more to anger the Dursleys than to actually take out any frustration. He moved into the hallway a bit, before dumping the trunk on the ground next to the wall. He was not in the mood to carry it upstairs, when he would only have to bring it down again on the morrow.

Harry had already decided that he would only stay at the Dursley house for twenty-four hours, at which point he would head off to either the Burrow, or Twelve Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had never been specific on how long he would have to spend at the Dursley residence before he could leave forever. The thought of never having to return to live with his relatives made him crack a grin.

He was leaning heavily toward the decision of heading to the Black's family manor because he did not relish the thought of being face to face with Ginny so soon. He felt a twinge of regret and sadness as his mind turned to her.

It had been so hard for Harry to break up with her, but he had known it was what he had to do. If he were to go after the Horcruxes, then he could only do it alone. No one else could die on his behalf. Harry felt hot tears of rage brimming in his eyes, as he thought of those that had fallen in his defence.

Angrily, he shook his head, shaking away the half-formed tears. Harry knew that the undertaking of Dumbledore's quest would probably result in the loss of his own life. The hardest thing, Harry knew, would be convincing Ron and Hermione to let him carry out this quest on his own.

Harry had been thinking hard about how to solve that problem since he had found out that he had to carry out the quest of destroying the Horcruxes himself, without Dumbledore's help. He knew that he could never just ask them to leave him alone, or he would be plagued by their constant pestering to let them help. Also, telling them that he didn't need their help wouldn't discourage them either. They would only think that in his emotional state he was crying out for help by pushing them away, or some such nonsense. Or at least, Hermione would. Harry doubted that Ron would really come up with something like that. He'd probably just think that Harry was being an ass.

Harry had decided that the easiest way to distance himself from his friends was to simply ignore them. If he refused to respond to them, and he didn't see them anymore, it would be easier on them both. They would be removed from the danger that had surrounded Harry since the day that Voldemort had set out to kill him, over sixteen years ago. Not that they could really be safe until he completed the task that Dumbledore had started.

Harry had figured out how to distance himself from his friends as well. If he refused to answer their letters, or even to see them, it would be hard for them to maintain a friendship with him. When he reached this decision, he decided that he would be moving into the Black manor. This way, his friends would not be able to see him. As he was the owner to the house, he could forbid the Order to let Ron and Hermione into the Manor. That's if the Order was still using the decrepit building as its base of operations.

Harry nodded to himself, content that he was making the right decision. Over time they would move on with their lives, and hopefully forget about him. He smiled sadly to himself as he realized what he was contemplating. He was planning on pushing his two best friends out of his life for good.

No, he thought resolutely, only for as long as it takes me to destroy Voldemort. Then I will be able to have a normal life again. With this thought, Harry was forced to smile, despite the hardships that lay before and behind him. When had he, or his friends, ever led a normal lives?

Just as he was about to head up the stairs to his room, Uncle Vernon entered the hallway. His cold glare slid from Harry to the trunk resting at the side of the stairs. Harry watched as the skin of his face that was obscured by his walrus moustache began to turn red. He turned his head to glare at Harry.

“What are you doing?” he breathed menacingly. Harry, who knew exactly what his irate Uncle was referring to, decided to feign ignorance. Holding back a smirk, he screwed his face into a confused look.

“I'm going up to my room?” he said questioningly, which succeeded in maddening his Uncle, face turned an even deeper shade of red, bordering on purple. Harry had to struggle even harder to keep a straight face.

“I can see that! Why is your trunk still in the hall?” he asked, seething with rage. His fat hands were clenched at his sides.

“Oh, that! Well, you see, it's quite heavy, and well, I didn't much feel like carrying it up to my room.” He replied cordially. He knew that he was pushing his luck with his short fused Uncle, but he was enjoying it immensely.

“Take those…things… in that trunk out of my sight, this instant!” he said, his voice rising to a shout. His biggest fear in life was people discovering that his nephew was a wizard, something completely abnormal. His face had turned a dark purple now.

“No, thank you. They are quite alright were they are.” Harry told him, before turning away, and continuing up the stairs. Before he got another step up, a meaty hand clapped down on his shoulder, and spun Harry forcefully around, nearly sending him sprawling. As Harry regained his balance, he was confronted by a furious Vernon. Harry had never outright disobeyed him, especially not in such a calm manner.

“Move it! NOW!” he bellowed, shoving his face right in front of Harry, who merely stood looking disinterested. His hands were drawn into fists.

“I said that they are fine where they are.” Harry said a little more forcefully, with an air of finality around his words. He turned to leave again. This time, when Vernon's hand clamped on his shoulder, Harry reached into his pocket, and drew out his slender wand. As he was turned around this time, he brought the wand up, aiming it into Vernon's dark purple face, which blanched immediately. He took a cautious step away from the wand wielding teen.

“You can't use magic outside of school.” He said in an unconvinced voice. He took another step back.

“Try me!” Harry growled, as he took a meaningful step forward. As he approached, he seemed to grow in Vernon's eyes, until he was all that could be seen. Vernon's bullying courage failed him, and he looked down, and shuffled away into the kitchen. Shooting a hate filled look at his Uncle, Harry stowed his wand away, and headed up to his room, with a satisfied look on his face.

It wasn't that Harry was proud of the fact that he was threatening a person, but to be able to finally quell Uncle Vernon made him happy. He hummed as he walked up the stairs.

He entered the smallest bedroom of the house, completely unchanged from the last time he had entered it, including an old box of Bernie Botts Every Flavoured Beans. He kicked it across his floor under his bed, and took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands, suddenly tired.

A yawn twisted his features, and he lay back on the bed, and within moments, sleep enveloped him.

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A/N: Hope you liked it. Please read and Review… flames are discouraged. I'll try to have the next chapter up soon, and there will probably be others than Harry in the chapter.

Dave a.k.a. Lord Chandler

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