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Prodigy | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Comedy, Humor Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 209 Summary: Some people say that Prodigies are born. Other people believe that Prodigies evolve in the proper environment. What if Harry was a born Prodigy but living with the Dursleys dampened his education? This is the story of what would happen if Harry had the opportunity to develop his intelligence. Note from SIYE: The original author of the story “Prodigy,” jmcqk6, has told SIYE he has abandoned his story and has given permission to other authors “that anyone could do whatever they want with it.” There is no issue of plagiarism involving this story. ~Sir Ollivander ~SIYE Administration Hitcount: Story Total: 74798; Chapter Total: 6056 |
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Trick Or Treat Spirit, n. s., spirit: 1. A person’s non-physical being, composed of their character and emotions. 2. This regarded as surviving after the death of the body, often manifested as a ghost. 3. A supernatural being. It was certainly sad for him that one of the days the Wizarding World celebrated the hardest was also a day that he didn't like to celebrate at all. Although he understood now why people celebrated the day like that (after all, the defeat of one of the most dangerous Dark Lords in history was something to celebrate), Harry didn't feel like it was cause for much celebration. He knew from the Dursleys — probably one of the few things that were true that they told him — that his parents had died in Halloween, and thus had never felt any joy about the day. Especially today, since was the tenth anniversary of James and Lily Potter's deaths. He wasn't the only one in the school hit hard by the constant reminiscing of that loss: Sirius would have to remind every ten minutes since he woke up that he couldn't have known that Peter would betray them and that now he had Harry to take care of; Severus was depressed over the death of his best friend ever at school for the whole day — not that he would show it to the students; even Dumbledore remained sad about the incident, and had to do his best to get through the morning without breaking down and cry. The day dawned cloudy, much like Harry's mood that day. His friends, knowing how much it pained him the remembrance of the loss of his parents — whom he had hardly known — gave him the space they knew he needed, although they also tried to keep him with them so that he was never alone. The twins even pulled through a small prank so that all the students robes featured a jack-o-lantern on their backs, which made Harry smile a little. During the Charms class, Flitwick said that they were ready to try the Wingardium Leviosa Charm, that allowed you to make things float in the air. After practising the moves a few more times and reminding them of the correct pronunciation of the charm, he gave them feathers so that each couple of students had one to practice the charm with. Harry had been paired with Neville, and, since he already knew how to do the Wingardium Leviosa Charm (it had been the first spell he had ever done), he did his best to help the boy control his magic. Since Neville's wand wasn't attuned to him, it was obvious that he would need to train a lot to be able to do something good with it. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were paired together. In spite of her bossiness — a habit she was trying to fight back — and his small problem with understanding the most technical things — although his upbringing in a magical environment helped him understand several things due to the education his parents had given him — they got on rather well, and although they had discussions from time to time, they always made up later. From his position, Harry could see Ron moving his arms forming wide arcs, and Hermione catching him by his wand hand's wrist. Both of them blushed a bit, but that wasn't impediment for Hermione to mutter something to Ron. Ron then answered something to her, and Hermione brought out her wand and, with a swish and flick, managed to make the feather float half a meter from the desk. “Oh, look at that! Miss Granger has done it!” Flitwick squeaked with delight. Ron seemed to be a bit miffed that Hermione had been able to do the charm at her first try, but he didn't give it much importance. He just took his wand and repeated the moves Hermione had done, and soon the feather was floating. “Well done, Mr Weasley!” Flitwick said, eager as he saw other of his students succeed in the task. Ron smiled at his success at the task. However, not many people would be able, in the end, to do what Ron had done. Only two Ravenclaws would manage it by the end of the class. Professor Flitwick just asked them to practice the charm out of class, and bid them a good morning. As they came out of class, both Harry and Neville were slightly depressed, the one because of the day, the other because of the lack of results his wand had. They were approached by Ron, who had noticed the state his friends were in and tried to lift their spirits by reminding them of the decorations in the Great Hall, which wasn't enough to make them happy, but at least brought them out of their depression. “Why don't we go to meet your godfather, Harry?” Hermione suggested, obviously caring for her friend. “Perhaps he could tell us something else about your parents. Like that time your mother make him lose all of his hair.” Harry smiled at the mention of that incident, which Sirius always remembered as one of the funniest moments in his life. Apparently, in their third year, James had tried to pull a prank on Lily — it was the way James dealt with his attraction to her, according to Sirius — and not only it backfired, but Lily, enraged, used a depilatory charm on James, leaving him bald as an egg. He spent a whole day whining about the pain of having every hair of his body pulled out at the same moment, but he never told on the girl, and instead said he had misspoke a charm and had ended that way. “Alright, let's see him,” Harry said, leading his friends towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office. He knew that Sirius didn't have any classes at that moment, so he supposed that there shouldn't be any problem to talk with him. He knocked on the door and opened it, having a look to make sure that he was inside. Sirius was sitting down in one of the sofas, his head reclined back as if he was sleeping, and in the table in front of it, a bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses. “Sirius?” Harry asked, worried. “Whozzat?” Sirius replied, sleepily. When he opened his eyes, he found his godson standing behind the door. “Harry! What are you doing here? Don't you have any classes today?” “Charms just ended, and Hermione thought you could tell us some more about Dad and Mum,” Harry said. “Oh, of course I can!” Sirius said, brightening. “Just come in, Moony should be about to arrive,” he said as he was taking away the Firewhiskey bottle. “What's that?” Hermione asked, looking at the bottle. “This?” Sirius replied. “This is Firewhiskey, an alcoholic drink, and, since you are a minor, you shouldn't be able to taste it, it's too dangerous for your health.” He put it in a cupboard at a side and locked it with a flick of his wand. Just then, Remus appeared in the fireplace. “Sirius?” he asked, before stepping out and seeing Harry and his friends sitting in front of the sofa. “Harry! What are you doing here?” “He wanted to talk about Prongs and Lily, Moony.” “Ah, good, I suppose that's why you have put the whiskey away,” Remus said. “That's something you could use without, you know. It's been ten years.” “Yeah, Moony, I know that, but it still makes me sad,” Sirius told his friend. “I know, but I suppose that James would have preferred us to remember the good times.” Sirius snorted. “Yeah, like that time he got stuck in the middle of his Animagus transformation.” Remus grinned, and Harry as well. The other children were a bit puzzled, but seemed to catch on that being a funny thing. “What happened?” Neville asked. “You know that James and I trained to become Animagi, no?” Sirius asked, and the children nodded. “Well, it was on a Saturday, and we had decided to train a bit as there was no one else woken up at the moment. James had managed to do every part of his stag, and he was about to do the whole transformation at once, but Peter sneezed then and James lost his concentration. All of his clothes had been replaced by fur, he had hooves instead of his hands and feet, but he still had his normal face. But the best was that he had the antlers, and he got stuck with his bed's curtains.” Everyone laughed aloud. “He spent nearly the whole day and night like that, because we couldn't find what exactly had gone wrong, but in the end we managed to do it,” Remus remembered, his eyes shining. “Ever since then, we always called it 'James' first stag night'. The day of his wedding, I have to say that Lily was extremely amused by it.” That set the children off again. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgw rwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg After a very thoroughly interesting and funny three hours, and a soporific History of Magic class, Harry and his friends were ready to go to the Great Hall and attend the Halloween Feast, for which the Hall was decorated with themed things, such as floating jack-o'-lanterns or animated bats that flew around continuously. The house elves had also prepared many dishes that seemed to be related to the holiday, with the desserts being the stars of the night: candy apples, bonfire toffee, roasted sweet corn, pumpkin pie and chocolates with the form of bats and such. However, little did they know that their fun would be cut short due to the actions of a certain Professor who wasn't exactly intent in helping the students keep their good health. Rather, his current actions seemed to be bent towards causing grave injuries and perhaps death to the students of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. “Imperio,” the Professor said, pointing his wand at the gigantic, green-skinned creature. “You are to go to the Great Hall, and when you get there you are to attack anything you see around. You are not to stop for anything. Don't make any noise.” As soon as the troll's minuscule brain managed to process the instructions that had been given to it, he walked off, dragging his club along the floor, stomping his way towards the Great Hall. The Professor then cast other spell at the back of the troll, with the intention of masking the disgusting stench of the creature and thus preventing those in the Hall from detecting it until it smashed its way in there. “It's been done, Master, that will keep the old fool distracted while I retrieve Flamel's Stone,” the turban-wearing Professor whispered as he ran upstairs. “Well done, my servant,” a sibilant voice said from inside the turban. “Soon, I'll have my body back and my reign over the magical world will resume where I left it.” “Yes, Master, your reign will be eternal, as my loyalty shall be,” the Professor said, stumbling slightly with one of the stairs. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpg wrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg This was his best Halloween night without a doubt, Harry told himself. Of course, he couldn't remember what his parents had done in his first Halloween, the second one was the death of his parents, the following five had been spent in the cupboard as Dudley stuffed himself with sweets and candy his parents had bought him and the last four he hadn't even noticed that it was the day, so it wasn't as if it had a tough record to surpass. “I think I won't be able to eat, ever,” Neville said, putting aside the candy apple he had taken before from the central plate. “Neither do I,” Harry agreed. “I haven't eaten this much in my whole life.” “I'm finished as well,” Hermione said. “I want to go to the Common Room and have a look at my Transfiguration homework before going to bed. Do you want to come?” Ron vacillated between following the smart girl or trying to eat some more sweet corn, but in the end he decided that he had eaten enough as well and stood up as well. The four friends walked towards the door and had just crossed the threshold when a ghost appeared through the wall. “Albus! There is a troll right outside the Hall!” Just then, Harry stepped out of the Hall, and then he heard the roars of the Troll as it stamped its way towards him and his friends. Harry was shocked. The troll was about to strike them with its club. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwr whghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Albus was happily enjoying his conversation with Severus. The Potions Master had changed since the start of the school year, and, while he was still a dour man, he now allowed his feelings appear in the surface from time to time. He seemed to be quite enthusiastic with the last project he and Harry were working on, which was a wide-spectrum cure-all potion that would cure people from most low illnesses such as colds or migraines. The table Harry had designed was certainly worth its weigh in gold (so to speak), because Severus and Harry were very much extracting lots of information from it that Harry hadn't been able to use before. It was certain that Harry's arrival to the school had changed every staff member, in some way or other. Minerva and Filius were really enjoying having such an intelligent boy as a pupil, and encouraging his friends to do the same; Septima had already engaged Harry in some projects regarding the possible improvement of several spells, and Sirius was certainly more alive and happy than ever since ten years ago. He saw that Harry and his friends had just stood up from their seats in the Gryffindor table and were going towards the door, no doubt to play chess or study some more before retiring for bed. He then looked at both sides, and suddenly realised that there was one empty seat. Quirrell's seat. “Does anybody of you know where Quirrell is?” Dumbledore asked, trying not to show his concern at the non-presence of the Muggle Studies Professor. “He said that he had a headache and wouldn't be able to join us tonight,” Poppy said. “I gave him some Headache Elixir and he retired to his rooms.” Dumbledore paled. He should have realised that this situation would be perfect in a sense for Quirrell, if his suspicions had been correct: with everyone in the feast, this would be a perfect moment for the man to sneak off and try to steal the Philosopher's Stone from behind the traps he had put in there. Also, the symbolism of the date wasn't lost on the wizard: resurrecting the Dark Lord just in the tenth anniversary of his 'death' would certainly be very symbolical. However, before he could stand up and ran to the third floor, where he had hid the Stone, one of the ghosts that haunted the dungeons flew inside the Hall. “Albus! There is a troll right outside the Hall!” Those eight words chilled Albus' old bones. Quirrell must have sent that troll to distract everyone! He looked at the door, and saw Harry looking at a side and his face pale very fast. Too fast. Albus then took out his elder wand from its holster and blasted the Head Table so that it couldn't stop his advance, being followed by Sirius and Minerva, but before he could give more than three steps, a triple scream of horror was heard. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgw rwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Sirius could say, without a doubt, that this was the best Halloween day of his life. Of course, it wasn't as if there was a huge record to beat: although they had been very nice during his time as a Hogwarts student, there was always something that happened outside that dampened his joy, with Voldemort being at his height in that time. The following two Halloweens had been spent fighting Death Eaters that were attacking Muggle towns, and then the next Halloween was the one when James and Lily were killed. Seven Halloweens more in Azkaban, probably the least conducting place for someone in need of happiness, and then three more drowning his sorrows in alcohol next to Remus as they mourned their best friends. Having Harry there had changed everything. Just with his presence, he was able to remember that, even if James and Lily were dead, they were still alive through him, and his questions always helped him to remember the best times he had spent with them both, which he now knew was what James would have wanted from him. Right now, he was enjoying a pastry made with pumpkin and chocolate, which he didn't understand how the house elves had come up with, but nonetheless liked as it was really sweet. Remus was at his right, having been invited by the Headmaster to join them for the night, and was enjoying a pumpkin pie onto which he had dropped a good lot of syrup. Sirius could bet that Remus wouldn't be sleeping much that night, because he was going to eat so much sugar that he would go hyperactive: it had already happened several times, and the results had been hilarious. He saw as Harry was already leaving the Hall, probably to go to their Common Room and enjoy the last hours with a game of cards before tucking in. We really need to teach him how to pull up a few pranks, Sirius thought. James would really enjoy to see his son following his steps, although I'm not sure whether Lily would neuter me or just hex me. He snickered at the thought when a ghost — Robert the Right-Handed-Leftie, from the dungeons near the Potions classroom if he remembered correctly — flew in the Hall. “Albus! There is a troll right outside the Hall!” Sirius was sure his heart had just stopped in that moment. There was a troll outside the Hall, and Harry was a step away from going outside the Hall. He saw as Harry looked at a side and paled really fast. Sirius stood up in order to save his godson and his friends from what probably could mean their death or grievous injuries, and he didn't notice how Albus blasted the Head Table, being bent on reaching the doors of the Great Hall as soon as possible. Three screams were heard from the door. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghp gwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Moll y was embroidering a jumper for her son Percy's Christmas present. Even though Arthur was now winning much more money ever since he caught Pettigrew, she still gave their sons a jumper with their initials on them for Christmas, as it had been a tradition of the family ever since she made Arthur one jumper in their first Christmas after getting married. She looked at her left and smiled as her daughter Ginny worked with the needles she had given the girl. For the last few weeks, she had been teaching Ginny how to sew, and she had taken to it like a duck to water. She had taken a ball of green yarn and was making something that certainly didn't look like a jumper, although it was clear that what she was making would keep warm whomever wore it. She then looked at the grandfather's clock by the chimney and smiled again as she saw Arthur's hand going from 'Working' to 'Travelling' and soon after that to 'Home'. The distinctive POP of an Apparating person was heard. “Molly! I'm home!” Arthur said, entering the house. Ginny was the first to greet him, as she had jumped when she had heard the POP and had just jumped over him, hugging him. “Hello, princess,” Arthur said, chuckling and hugging his daughter back. Then Molly came and kissed him. “Arthur! How is it that you have come so early? I thought you wouldn't be able to come until nine at least!” “Well, the malicious attacks against Muggles at this time have dropped considerably in the last years, so they have let us out as a present for a very good job,” Arthur replied with a grin. Molly chuckled as well, and she turned towards the kitchen in order to heat the food that she had prepared earlier for dinner. However, she didn't know that she wouldn't have the chance to do it. For in that moment four hands in the grandfather's clock started to move with a creak. Molly and Arthur looked at the clock, surprised because they hadn't expected it to move. That was suddenly the least of their worries, as they saw which four hands had just moved. Percy, Fred, George and Ron's hands had moved from 'School' to the position where the twelve o'clock is in normal clocks. 'Mortal Peril'. Molly's shout of horror could be heard at the other side of the town. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwr whghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg As the troll's club came onto their heads, Harry, acting on instinct, did the first thing that passed through his mind. He cast a magical shield that was created by will alone, and powered up with his magic. A golden dome covered him and his friends, and it did it just in time, for just a few milliseconds after that, the club crashed into the shield. Once it touched the dome, the club exploded into many tiny wood splinters, some of which hit the shield and exploded again, but most stuck into the troll's skin, waking it up from the Imperius Curse Quirrell had used on it. His friends' screams of terror left Harry half-deaf, but that didn't make his concentration waver from the protection of his friends and himself. However, the total disintegration of the club with his shield forced him to spend much magic, and instinctively he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep it up if the troll decided to attack them physically, so he dropped the dome. “MOVE!” Harry shouted to his friends, and their bodies moved, obeying the order, before their minds had managed to engage back from the shock they suffered. Each of the children jumping into one direction, they managed to avoid the troll's stampede as it tried to run over them. However, the troll wasn't finished. His primal rage had managed to expel the remnants of the Imperius Curse he had been thrown, but that would have probably prevented the troll from trying to attack the four children and enter the Hall. Now, with his rage controlling him and fuelled up by the shards of wood in his skin, he wanted nothing else but to smash those tiny wizards into nothingness. He became fixated with the one that had the most head-fur, and thinking this one was the most dangerous, he charged again at it. Hermione couldn't think. A troll had nearly killed her and her friends, and Harry had saved them from being hit by the club, but now the enraged troll was running towards her, and her panic prevented her from moving. Ron couldn't think either. However, if there was something he knew how to do, was to act without thinking. While this normally had put him into problems in his house, now it would be very useful. Running towards the bushy-haired girl, who was being charged by the furious troll, he tackled her out of the way, protecting her from the creature and, in the process, getting it to run into the wall. This would probably have had him chuckling, but he had been hit by the troll and his left leg had been broken. He fainted from the pain. Neville was very scared. Not even the time when Uncle Algie dropped him from the second floor had been this scary. At least at that time his accidental magic had made him rebound on the floor. But in here rebounding wouldn't help him. He took out his father's wand from his pocket and pointed it at the troll, shouting the first thing that passed through his mind. Harry was surprised to see the troll's legs wobble and tremble, while the troll on itself didn't seem to be able to keep his balance. Jelly-Legs Jinx, he thought. He then pointed with his hand at the creature and shouted one of the offensive spells that Moody had taught him a couple of days ago. “REDUCTO!” he shouted with all his forces. Now, normally the Explosive Charm would, at most, make the troll stall, perhaps push him back or maybe blow up a bit chunk of his skin and flesh. That would be the norm for a typical wizard, in a calm situation. Harry Potter never was the norm, wasn't a typical wizard, and wasn't in a calm situation. Shouting the spell really added strength to what Harry was casting. The troll was blown into smithereens. The walls of the hall behind the troll, from Harry's perspective, were showered with troll's blood. Small chunks of burned out flesh remained around the position where the troll was. Ron and Hermione had somehow managed not to be hit by any of the remains of the creature, but it was obvious that both were in shock, as they weren't moving at all. Harry's vision started to blur, despite the fact that he had his glasses on. He was really tired, and he really needed to sleep. He fainted, after having used such a great quantity of magic in just a few seconds. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghp gwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg The first to arrive to the Hall was Sirius, his youth and despair being more than enough to outrun Remus, Dumbledore and Minerva, and was amazed at the fact that the troll had disappeared. As the most immediate danger had disappeared, Sirius looked for his godson, and saw him sprawled on the floor, unconscious. He ran towards him and tested his pulse. It was there, thank Merlin. Remus, Albus and Minerva were next in arriving at the scene, and soon realised what had happened. They couldn't be more surprised at the fact that Harry had destroyed the troll with one spell. Then, Albus started to deliver orders. “Minerva, Remus, Hagrid, bring the children to the hospital wing. Poppy, go with them and heal the children. Severus, come with me!” All the mentioned people nodded and set out to their tasks, Sirius leading the way to the hospital wing with a limp Harry in his embrace. Meanwhile, Albus and Severus ran to the third floor corridor, expecting to see the door open and the Cerberus Hagrid had provided for the protection asleep or dead. However, what they saw was a carnage, even worse than the one back in the hall. Quirrell's body seemed to have been bitten several times, and the floor was full of the man's blood. The turban Quirrell wore had fallen to the floor, and in the place where his nape would be a face had appeared, but it didn't seem to have any defined form. It was still clear what had happened. “Our suspicions were true, then,” Dumbledore said. “Quirrell had been possessed by Voldemort and attempted to steal the Stone.” “We'll have to thank Hagrid, his Cerberus stopped Quirrell before he could do anything else,” Severus said. “But where is the Dark Lord?” “I'd guess that he must have left the school,” Dumbledore said. “I doubt that he would be able to live easily as a spirit in a place like Hogwarts. Severus, please, go to the hospital wing and see if Poppy needs some potions. I'll deal with the traps and send the stone back to Nicholas. It wasn't a brilliant move to keep it here, but Nicholas had asked me to keep it for a time while he upgraded his house's protections.” Dumbledore then Conjured a harp that started to play a melodious music that soon had the Cerberus asleep. Levitating himself down the hole, he cast a fire to keep the Devil's Snare away, and then he Summoned the winged key — which would only answer to his and Filius' call — and charmed away the chess pieces. Then, he had to surpass Sirius' trap — a very ingenious combination of charms and hexes that could nonetheless be nullified by using the correct password - “I'm solemnly swear that I am still up to no good” - and Severus' logic problem, which he soon solved, and was able to reach the last room, with the Mirror of Erised. He easily extracted the Stone from the Mirror and then made his way back to the school, as he was going to give the stone back to Nicholas now. When he arrived to his office, he saw that Molly Weasley's head was appearing through the fireplace. “Molly! What's the matter?” Albus thought, although he supposed that she would have seen that something had happened thanks to her grandfather's clock. “Albus! Finally! We have been trying to call you for fifteen minutes! We saw that our sons were in danger!” The woman was hysterical, and Albus couldn't blame her. “Just step through, Molly, and I'll explain it all to you.” The red-haired woman's head disappeared and soon after that the fire went green. Molly came through, and he expected Arthur to come behind, but it was the Weasley's daughter, Ginevra if he wasn't mistaken, who stepped through. Arthur did come after the young girl. “We couldn't find the Lovegoods, and I didn't want to leave her alone at home,” Arthur said, explaining the girl's presence. “Very well. The Muggle Studies Professor, Quirinius Quirrell, attempted to steal an important magical artefact tonight. He let a troll loose in the school and it reached the Great Hall before we knew about it. Harry, Ronald and his friends were just leaving as the troll arrived to the hall outside the Great Hall.” Molly and Ginny paled a lot, but Arthur managed to keep calm and took the two most important females of his life by the arm and gently pulled them forward, as they followed Albus to the hospital wing. Albus resolved that he would have to send the Stone to Nicholas later. Once they arrived, they saw four beds occupied by the affected children. Madam Pomfrey was next to one of the beds, that had a black-haired boy in it — Harry Potter, unquestionably. Two of the other beds had two sleeping children — Neville and Hermione, if Molly wasn't mistaken — with Professor McGonagall sitting between them, and Ron was next to Harry's bed, his eyes wide open and surrounded by his brothers. “Mum!” the red-haired boy said. Molly launched herself at the young boy, sobbing with relief that he seemed to be well. “Oh, Ronnie, I saw the clock and I thought you...” the woman said between sobs, kissing his face, as her sons hugged her, trying to calm her down. Ginny also jumped in the family hug, while Albus asked Poppy what had happened to the children. “Mr Weasley is lucky, he only had a broken leg. Mister Longbottom only has a shock, and Miss Granger is the same although she has a bruise at a side, and I gave both of them a Dreamless Sleep potion. As to Harry Potter, he seems to be magically exhausted, only Merlin knows how he managed to do that!” Albus nodded, and then turned to Ron, who had been extricated from his mother's hug by Arthur, who had then given her a Calming Drought and sat her down on a chair near his bed. “Mr Weasley,” he said, “would you mind telling me what happened?” Ron shook his head: it was obvious that the events of the night had traumatised him. Albus understood that, at this moment, he wouldn't want to go through what had just happened. “There is other way we could do it,” Albus said. He called for Fawkes and asked him to bring him his Pensieve. “If you allow me, I could pull your memory out and put it in this Pensieve so that we can see it. I would have to enter your mind in order to help you, but, as you know, it shouldn't be much problem.” Ron nodded and closed his eyes. “What are you talking about, Albus?” Arthur asked. “I have been training Ronald and his friends in the art of Occlumency due to his friendship with Harry, so that he could keep both his and his friends' secrets safe from potential attackers. Fortunately for us, the most dangerous one that could have attacked them has already been ejected from here.” “Whom?” “Professor Quirrell, although I fear that he was being possessed by Lord Voldemort.” Everyone but Sirius shuddered when Albus pronounced the Dark Lord's name. “Are you sure about this, Albus?” Arthur asked, shaken. “Yes. That troll had been let out by Quirrell on his orders, and if it hadn't been for these children, it would have entered the Great Hall. As for the magical artefact he was trying to steal, I'll deal with it as soon as I can. But first, let's have that memory so that Ronald can rest,” Albus said, and then looked back at Ron. “Are you ready?” Ron nodded again. “Good,” Albus said softly, and spoke the Legillimens Charm. He soon noticed that the boy had opened a way in for him, which he was glad for, because he didn't want to cause him a headache while trying to reach that memory. He soon found the memory he was looking for, and 'copied' it into his own mind. Then he left Ron's mind and helped him 'close' the hole in the shields. “Thank you very much, Ronald,” Albus spoke, satisfied, and then concentrated in the memory he had just gotten, putting it into the Pensieve. “Minerva, Severus, Remus, Arthur?” he asked. The five adults put a finger into the Pensieve and entered Ron's memory. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpg wrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Ginny was really scared. First, Mum had nearly had an attack when she saw that her brothers were in mortal peril, and then she had to go with her parents because Luna and her parents were away for some reason. Then, as soon as they arrived, Mum had jumped over Ron and she had joined her brothers in hugging her mum. Then, Professor Dumbledore had said that You-Know-Who had something to do with this and had somehow picked a memory from Ron to see it, and now Dad and the Professors had gone into the memory. She looked at the bed beside her and saw Harry Potter, who was asleep and had one of the other Professors sitting next to him, looking completely broken. She could see Harry's green scar over his right eye and his chest rise and lower itself with his breathing. She had been exchanging letters with him for so much time that she felt she knew him fairly well. She also knew that he had saved Ron from something worse than just a broken leg, and she wanted to thank him for saving her favourite brother. She slowly reached and took his hand into hers, noticing that it was slightly bigger, and caressed the back with her small thumb. She really wanted him to wake up and thank him for being so nice. She just stood there, caressing Harry's hand and just waiting. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghp gwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Once the four adults finished watching the memory of the troll attack, Arthur went towards his son and hugged him really strong. “I'm very proud of you, Ronald. You really gave us Weasleys a good name with the way you saved the girl,” Arthur told his youngest son. “Hermione,” he mumbled, his ears reddening as every time he was embarrassed or angry. Arthur inwardly smiled: Ron wasn't the first son to get embarrassed when talking about a girl, and even Percy and the twins had gone through that in their first year. Arthur suspected that his son had a crush on the Muggle-born girl, and that it had hit him hard. The fact that he had jumped to save Hermione without thinking on the consequences only added to his suspicions. “Hermione,” Arthur repeated. Everyone's attention was put into the two Weasleys. That was why no one saw a black cloud enter the room and throw itself at Harry. Harry's scar turned red, and he started to scream, convulsing as his scar burst open, bled and sent waves of incredibly high pain through his body. Ginny held his hand tightly, even though she was very scared. She didn't know what to do for Harry. “Miss Weasley, please stand back,” Madam Pomfrey said, brandishing her wand and ready to cast a Sleep Charm over Harry. “Don't!” Dumbledore said, guessing what the Mediwitch was going to do, and he cast a Shield Charm over Harry. “Honestly, Albus, this is not the time to start playing around!” Madam Pomfrey shouted over Harry's shouts. “That's why I stopped you!” Albus replied, raising the shield and frantically casting several diagnostic charms. The results chilled him for the second time that night. “He has been possessed,” he whispered. “Voldemort didn't left Hogwarts as I thought. And we can't do a thing to help him but supporting him.” “WHAT?” Sirius shouted. “VOLDEMORT IS POSSESSING HARRY?” “Yes,” Albus replied softly. “I do not know what he believes he could be winning with possessing Harry, as it should be incredibly painful for him, but, if I am not mistaken, he might believe that he could expel Harry's conscience out of his own body and take over it.” “No,” Sirius whispered, hugging his godson as he still convulsed. “Not Harry!” “Sirius, do not fret, I am sure Harry will be able to expel Voldemort,” Dumbledore said, confidently. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrw hghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrw hg Harry had retreated into his own mind, the pain was so intense that he couldn't stand it and had gone to the only place where he, at least, could find some peace. Or so he thought. Harry's mental shields were still formidable, because all the training he had done had certainly stuck. However, his magical reserves were very low, and the special protection that made those shields invisible needed magic to stay up. Not much, mind you, but still his magical core had partially shut down, and that meant the overlaying invisibility shield had disappeared, making his remaining shields visible to a Legillimens. Once he looked outside of his mind, through the shields — something he could do as the 'owner' of the mind — he saw a grey-haired man of about fifty or sixty years using a wand and trying to batter down the shields. Harry did his best to reinforce the shields, but he couldn't do much because of his magical exhaustion, so it was a matter of time before the man managed to enter his mind. Then, a hand fell on his shoulder. Harry yelped and jumped away from the hand. “Who are you?” he asked, turning to see who had been there. It was an old lady, wearing a white robe and holding a cane — a staff, Harry corrected himself — and an old magical hat. She was smiling, proudly, at Harry, and her eyes were twinkling like Dumbledore's did sometimes. “It's nice to finally meet you in person, young man,” her rich voice said, and Harry soon realised who he was talking to, even though he hadn't heard that voice in years. “You are the lady that helped me when I arrived to my parents' house!” he exclaimed. The lady nodded, pleased that he remembered. “I am, young man. And I have to say that I am very proud of all the things you have been doing in the last few years, all that hard work while you were at your parents' house and then while you have been here at Hogwarts. Your Professors are certainly glad to have you here.” Harry blushed as he was complimented. “Erm, thanks, I think. I'm not sure if you have noticed, but I have a bit of a problem in here,” he said, pointing to the old man out of his mental shields. The lady smiled again, and waved one of her slightly wrinkled hands. “Don't worry about him. As long as I am here and I wish it, he won't be able to break your protection, very good they are indeed.” “But, how?” Harry asked. The old lady just chuckled and two armchairs appeared, with a small table in the middle that held two cups and a teapot. Harry was amazed at what the woman had done. “Let's sit down, and I'll tell you everything,” she said, sitting down on the nearest armchair, and resting against its back, and Harry imitated her. “First of all, I must confess to a few things that you don't know the whole truth about yet,” she said, with a soft smile. “I hope that you still remember the time that you arrived to Godric's Hollow.” Harry nodded. “I helped you reach Godric's Hollow that day,” she simply said, sipping into her tea. Harry spluttered with his. “Pardon?” Harry asked her, astonished. “Oh, you were the one that subconsciously chose that place, and obviously you were the one that did the accidental Apparition,” she replied, “but I had to act, because of a series of things, and if I hadn't done that, you would haven't been able to reach further than the railings surrounding your school or perhaps the school's roof. I knew that you had much potential, and that if you were to stay with the Dursleys that potential would have gone to waste,” she kept explaining. “I wasn't able to help you before because my own power limits itself at things such as outright influencing the outcome of events in the real world, or influencing the free will every being has. Had I been able to do so, I would have certainly prevented Tom Riddle — which is Voldemort's true name, by the way — from being able to do magic, or I would have stopped Peter Pettigrew before he could kill all those people and framed your godfather, Sirius. However, in your case, I was able to act. “Your upbringing with the Dursleys, who punished you whenever you accidentally used your magic, forced you to repress what was your own nature, that of a wizard. Of course, you still did several magical feats thanks to your own magic, but the block you had put on yourself prevented you from doing really powerful things, which you would need in the future. “Fortunately, when you jumped behind those trash cans, you were so much concentrated in the fact that you needed to get away, as well as panic within yourself, that I managed to unblock your magical core and that allowed you to Apparate to your parents' home.” “Well, then I think that I should thank you,” Harry said with honesty, “but I still don't know who you are. Would you mind telling me?” he asked. “Ah, young man, you asked me that question four years ago,” she answered, “and then I told you that you would figure it out in time. Now that you have more information than four years ago, I suppose that you should be able to guess my identity.” Harry racked his mind, oblivious to the presence of both the old lady and the strange man out of the shields, and tried to ascertain the lady's identity. She was really old, old enough to have known, if not Prometheus, at least about him, and she must have been with him for enough time to have known where his diary was and how to reach it. Whenever he had heard her at Godric's Hollow he had never seen anyone, so she either had the ability to talk to people at a distance (improbable, but not impossible — Harry knew that, as long as it couldn't be demonstrated through all means, it wasn't impossible) or she didn't have a body, which would mean she was a spirit. However, she had been inside him from the start, as he doubted anyone would have been able to sneak behind his shields without detecting it — although there was the chance that it could have happened, he wasn't arrogant to believe that he was all-powerful — and, if he were to take that road, he supposed that it couldn't be any true person, because as far as he knew he had no spirit latched onto himself, but... there was one thing that would make sense, as it was very old, it was everywhere, and he definitively had it inside himself. “Are you... Magic?” Harry asked. The old lady — Magic — smiled. “Yes, I am, young man,” she replied. “And it only took you three minutes to guess it, so very well done.” “Not to be rude, but how is it that you are talking with me?” “Young Harry, along the times, ever since humanity managed to grasp control over the magic, things have changed. At some time, many thousands of years ago, for some reason not even myself have managed to discover, about 90 percent of the people lost their magical abilities. This didn't happen overnight, but it was spread out over several generations, and soon only a part of humanity still had their magical abilities. “In that time, wands weren't used, not even staffs, as those were a Celtic invention in order to train their people and later to cast magic with more precision. No, the wizards and witches at that time were able to mould their magical abilities to their will, although they never used it for evil purposes, as they understood that equilibrium was — and is — a very important thing in people's lives. After so many people lost their magic, the ones that still had it would start to drift towards other places, where they started to build their own magical communities, still in sporadic contact with the non-magical people but more isolated from the rest of the world as time passed. There were several of these in the world. One was in a city that would pass onto the non-magical people as the legend of Shangri-La, which still exists, but others were lost due to the arrogance of a few condemning the rest or to natural catastrophes. You already know of one of these.” “Atlantis, the Ancients!” he replied. “Indeed. In the island of Atlantis, people learnt to control their magic as the first wizards did, and soon they started to create magical instruments and potions to cure themselves and help to find things, such as iron ores which they needed to create special cauldrons and such. Prometheus would be one of the last people to be taught in Atlantis before it sunk into the ocean waters, and that was how the Atlantean Magic was lost, until it came back to you in his journal,” she said, mentioning the book that had helped Harry so much in his first year learning magic. “Now, several hundreds of years before Atlantis fell, there was a boy who had lost his parents in a horrible accident, and there hadn't been time to save them. As he was in the middle of his education in Atlantis, he suddenly had the idea that he might be able to resurrect his parents so that he could make them proud of his abilities at the school and so that he could be back with his loving family. He didn't realise that, once one's soul leaves the body, it will never come back to it. With that idea in mind, he started to work on trying to revive living beings. He managed to revive a plant he had killed using salt, then a fish he had kept out of the water until it died, and thus he went up. He was the one who invented the magic that is currently known as Necromancy, which is probably the worst kind of magic as it goes completely against the real flux of life. “However, as he advanced, going with beings that were more similar to a human being, he became more corrupted by what he was doing, and he slowly turned into what people would call a Dark Lord, the latter of which, Voldemort, is currently out there trying to bring down your shields,” she stated, pointing out to the man that was still trying to destroy Harry's shields, without success. “That's Voldemort?” Harry asked. “Yes. Now, to continue with the story, the boy became corrupted, and when he tried to revive his parents — this was a few years after he graduated from school — the only thing he obtained was two zombies, two shells of what his parents had been. It was then, when he saw that all his efforts had been for nothing, that he cracked and totally turned to the Darkness, shunting the balance within him at a side and starting to plot. He somehow managed to find many wizards and witches that had dabbled too much with the darker side of magic and he declared war on the rest of Atlantis. The war lasted for three years, until one of his former friends, who had truly found the balance between Light and Dark Magic, managed to defeat him in a long fight that ended with the Dark Lord dead. “Unfortunately, those who had turned to the Darkness hadn't been finished with, as several of them had survived the war and had run away to Europe and Africa, where they found that magic had not been extinguished between the non-magical humanity, but that some of them had managed to recover the innate magic within them. Some of them, through their greed, joined their numbers in an attempt to control the non-magical ones, but the rest stopped them thanks to their magic, which several of them had managed to control in an instinctive manner and had taught this to others. Most of the dark ones would die in this second war; once more a few would survive, but this time they learnt their lesson and only passed their knowledge to apprentices that would pass them to other apprentices.” Magic sipped on her cup and continued with her story. “It was the Celt druids that created the staff, as they had been trying to find a way to channel their power into doing more powerful things. They were successful — it was how they built Stonehenge, after all — but, as time passed, people got used to the staffs, and thus were not using their core to their full potential. This trend only worsened when the Romans brought their own kind of magic, wand magic, that could only be used with their special wands, each of them with a core taken from a magical creature. This helped those who had weak magic within themselves to cast magic, but it was counterproductive for the stronger ones, as they couldn't use all of their potential, and thus in a matter of several generations the wand became the norm and the myth that wandless magic was nearly impossible was spread out. Harry, you have been the first person in centuries to achieve the ability to make wandless magic before learning to use a wand, and that makes you one of the most powerful wizards in existence, because you already know how to mould your magic to your will. Of course, you still use the Roman spells, but soon you will find that you don't even need them.” Harry was overwhelmed by the quantity of information that had just been dumped onto him by Magic. She smiled again and waved one of her wrinkled hands, and Harry soon realised that the whole story had been organised within his mind in a couple of seconds. This helped him recover from the feeling of overwhelming. “That's better, don't you think so?” Magic asked. After Harry nodded, she looked at Voldemort — who still hadn't tired of trying to break Harry's shields down. “I think we are going to need reinforcements if we really want to deal with him,” Magic said. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwr whghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Sirius was crying unabashedly over his godson's body, as it twitched in pain every few seconds — although Harry had stopped crying so loud in pain, which he hoped was something good. His scar was covered with a gauze, but it was still bleeding despite Madam Pomfrey's attempts to close it. At the other side of Harry's bed, the young Ginny Weasley still had Harry's hand between hers, and she was also crying over the pain that was going through him, and this was happening half an hour after he had been possessed — by You-Know-Who, said Headmaster Dumbledore — and started to scream. She really wanted him to get better, no one deserved to go through what Harry had had to stand during his life. Then, suddenly, the Headmaster's phoenix, Fawkes, flared into the hospital wing, bringing the Sorting Hat with him. He pecked Sirius on his shoulder and trilled, something that helped everyone in the room feel better as the song penetrated into their own souls. Only Dumbledore understood what the phoenix had said, and thus acted accordingly. “Sirius, put the Hat on Harry's head,” he told the younger man, who did that soon. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwr whghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Harry was flabbergasted when he saw that Voldemort — or his spirit — was shrinking back from his attempt to destroy the barriers, as if in pain of something, but then the phoenix song could be heard and Harry understood that the Headmaster's phoenix must be out there, singing, as the phoenix song caused pain to those that were evil and helped the good people to recover and rose their spirits. “Is that Fawkes?” Harry asked to Magic. “Yes, it is,” she replied with a calm voice, standing up and Vanishing everything she had conjured before. “Jolly good!” a man's voice was heard. “That phoenix surprised me in the middle of the first stanza of next year's song, although I see now that this party is far better than the boredom of being at the Headmaster's office!” This voice was also one Harry instantly recognised. “Floppy!” he said, surprised. “Indeed I am, Mr Potter,” Floppy replied. He also seemed to be slightly old, but not as old as Magic, as he had a lot of red hair and he didn't have many wrinkles in his face and hands, although he carried a cane, much more elaborate than Magic's, with a lion engraved at a side, and a sword's hilt on his left hip. “Floppy, I see that you have taken your former owner's body to deal with Harry and Tom,” Magic said, smiling. “M'lady,” Floppy said, kissing her hand. Then he turned to Harry, and held his hand out. Harry shook it. “It's good to finally meet you like this, Mr Potter. And, yes, this is what Godric Gryffindor looked like when he created me,” the Hat said. “Nice to meet you as well, Floppy,” Harry replied. “Sorry that I can't offer you something better, but we have a small problem out there that I need to solve soon,” he said, pointing to Voldemort. “Alas, you don't need to worry, Mr Potter. The two of us should be more than qualified to expel him out of your outer mind. And by the two of us, I mean you and me,” Floppy replied, pointing at Harry and himself. “How are we going to do that?” the boy asked. “Don't worry. The first thing we are going to do is to sneak out of your shields while Madam Magic keeps the fort, so to speak. Then, things will become more interesting,” Floppy replied, taking Harry to the shields, to the opposite side of the position where Voldemort was right now. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrw hghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg When Voldemort entered the Boy-Who-Lived's mind, it was the first time he was able to see the mental shields the child had somehow built, as Quirrell had never had the chance to get near the boy and cast Legillimency on him without causing suspicions within Dumbledore. They were impressive, sure, but Voldemort was sure that they wouldn't last much, because he knew that he was much more powerful than this child, since he was a Dark Lord and the child had just started his magical education, so he started to hit the shields with everything he had. After thirty-five minutes, the boy's mind shields hadn't even moved an inch from their initial position, despite the strength of the attack of the mighty Lord Voldemort against them. He refused to admit defeat and instead continued to attack the shields, knowing that, when they fell, he would be able to fully possess the boy and steal the Philosopher's Stone from wherever the fool Dumbledore had hidden it. The fact that, once he recovered his own body, he would be able to destroy the only true obstacle towards his complete dominance of the world, as it would be right next to him once that happened, was a bonus. However, he didn't know that he would never be able to actually bring down those shields, as Magic herself was taking care of making sure those shields didn't fall, and when you compare the power of a spirit — a weakened spirit, at that —, no matter how powerful the man was in life, with the power of the magic present in the whole world, there was no comparison. It was then that he heard someone behind him, a voice he remembered very well from a lot of time ago, from the time before he became the mighty Dark Lord Voldemort. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Tom, Tom, Tom, don't you remember what I told you fifty-three years ago, when I sorted you into Slytherin?” the old Sorting Hat asked. Voldemort turned around and saw an old man, accompanied by a small black-haired child, both of which were glaring at him. “My name is not Tom, I am Lord Voldemort,” he said, angrily. “There is no need to lie, Mr Riddle. Remember that you wore me once, and that I live in the Headmaster's office. Surely you must remember the time you tried to get the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, when you cursed that position. Funny that it fell down when Malfoy was kicked out of the Board of Governors and straight into prison, don't you think so?” the Hat replied. Voldemort's left eye twitched, then he looked at Harry and realised who he was. He jumped towards the boy, attempting to touch him so that he could overwhelm him and fully possess the body, but he was stopped by an invisible barrier which he couldn't pass. “What the hell is this? I demand that you drop this barrier immediately, you stupid old rotten hat!” he shouted. He was shocked when the answer came in the form of a cane hitting him on the head, which pushed him back, away from the barrier and Harry. “You obviously never learnt a thing from Mrs Cole, didn't you, boy?” the Hat asked. “She taught you that you should never demand something, but to ask for it nicely: I suppose that the objective of the lesson passed over your head. Along the others about being a decent human being and all of that,” he taunted. “And, anyway, even if I wanted to drop this barrier, which I don't, I wouldn't be able to do it, because it was created by young Harry here. You know, you should have known that, once you are in someone else's mind, that person has the advantage as they are playing in their home turf, if you pardon me the Muggle expression. Although I suppose that you would already know about it, considering that your father was a Muggle.” “His father was a Muggle? Considering that he was constantly sprouting stupid things about the supremacy of the purebloods, I'd say that it is very hypocritical of his part, don't you think so?” Potter said. “Indeed, Mr Potter,” the Hat replied. “Now, will you do the honours of expelling this idiot out?” “No problem,” Potter replied, and he started to grow up until he reached a height of 1.90 metres, more than enough to take on him. “This is a little trick I learnt from my mother's diary,” Potter said, and he reared his leg back. hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwr whghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Harry was particularly amused by Voldemort's face after he had kicked him in every man's weakest point. He knew that it had been hit way below the belt — literally — but since when did Voldemort care about that? The funny thing was that, even though he was a spirit, he could still be knocked out with a good kick. Harry then picked the man by his robe's collar — easy to do as he was able to change anything within his mind, even the gravitational constant — and whispered. “Look here, Voldemort, if you ever try to do this again, you won't like what I can come up with. I may be only eleven, but that doesn't mean I suck my finger. Got that? Now, scoot away,” Harry said, and threw him out of his mind with nary an effort. Floppy laughed. “That was certainly a very interesting way to deal with him, Mr Potter. Now, let's get inside your shields and then you'll wake up again.” hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpg wrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Everyone was duly surprised when black smoke suddenly jumped out of Harry's forehead and flew outside, wailing and attempting to put as much distance between the school and itself. Albus had tried to catch the cloud with a charm designed to keep spirits trapped, but the cloud had left too fast for him to be able to do it. “Was that Voldemort?” Remus asked, his eyes wide. “Yes, it was him,” Albus said. He then turned to Fawkes — something he had forgotten to do before, in the middle of the confusion over Harry's possession — and gave him the package with the Philosopher's Stone. “Please, my friend, take this to Nicholas.” Fawkes trilled and picked the package with one of his claws, and then flared away. “Harry should be about to wake up, I hope,” Albus said, then he asked Madam Pomfrey to run up her tests again on Harry. She was puzzled at this petition, but nonetheless did them again, and the results were somewhat surprising. She repeated them again, and the same result appeared. “Well, if I wasn't the one doing these tests, I'd say someone has done something disrupting with the results,” Madam Pomfrey said. “What does it say?” Sirius asked. “He seems to be totally recovered from the magical exhaustion bout from earlier. I don't know how this happened, but aside from some soreness, he is perfectly healthy right now.” That surprised Dumbledore. After being possessed, even for a relatively short amount of time, one normally had several sequels on their magic. He had thought that Harry would have a stunted core or something similar, as it was the norm between wizards that had been possessed by a harmful spirit. It seemed that, once more, Harry had demonstrated that he wasn't a normal wizard. Just then, Harry opened his eyes, blearily. “Wha's goin' on?” he asked. Immediately, Sirius pounced on him and hugged him like there was no tomorrow. Harry tried to shoo Sirius away, but he was using a lot of strength. “Padfoot! He's turning blue!” Remus said, attempting to pry Sirius' arms away from Harry, without much success. “Mr Black! Your godson has just recovered from a painful possession!” Madam Pomfrey said. “Don't force me to Stun you!” It took a few more seconds, but in the end Remus, with the help of Albus and Arthur Weasley, had managed to separate Sirius' arms from Harry enough that the young boy managed to get away, coughing and breathing deeply. Remus then applied some of his knowledge of Sirius to either calm him down or distract him. Hitting him on his nape was the best way to do this, so he did so. “OUCH! Moony, why did you do that?” Sirius said. “Padfoot, you nearly killed Harry with that bear hug of yours! It was the only thing that I knew would stop you from carrying on!” Remus replied, keeping Sirius where he was by grabbing him from the shoulders and looking at him on the eyes. While Remus kept Sirius busy, Harry recovered his ability to breath and looked around, seeing that Hermione and Neville were sleeping, Ron was next to the rest of his family, and a pretty red-haired girl was sitting next to him. It was pretty clear who she was, considering that she had already sent him a photograph of hers a few days ago. “Hi, Ginny.” hpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpg wrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhghpgwrwhg Author Notes: And thus ends chapter 11. Harry and Ginny finally meet in person, Voldemort gets what he deserves (well, the first part of the payment) and we discover that Ron has a crush on Hermione! (The latter was a given in canon, but here it is more clear since they are better friends). Flames that support the *ahem* “facts” “Hermione-loves-Harry”, “Ginny-the-Stalker” and/or “Ron-the-Prat” will be summarily ignored, so please don't send them. Reviews about possible grammar mistakes are welcome. No, my saying that Harry & Ginny are the best couple ever in the story of HP is not a grammar mistake. Nor is it that Ron & Hermione are the second best couple ever. Only Oxford dictionary's grammar, please, not “I live in a weird land where incest seems to be acceptable” dictionary. Reviews that congratulate me for writing a good story are more than welcome. Last chapter's list about things that H/Hr lovers and/or H/G haters should do was only for laughs. Anyone that felt offended, sorry. You have the right to have an opinion, but please do not push it through the reviews. If you don't like H/G and/or R/Hr, well, then you won't like the rest of this story. For those that are afraid of this story turning into a clich filled story, Harry and Ginny are not suddenly going to bond and then do so many things that no one can do like talk in their minds or transform into phoenixes. Too much of a clich. Ginny seeing Harry in her dreams was not the sign of a bonding, it was just that she had, subconsciously, wanted to see Harry, and Magic let her see Harry — thus providing her with the push that will spark her ability with the arts, as well as helping her get over the crush on the Boy-Who-Lived and setting the future grounds for what will become one of the best relationships Hogwarts has ever seen (by the time Harry is a third-fourth year, sorry, so there is still 2-3 years till they actually become boyfriend and girlfriend). Oh, yeah, the old lady is the personification of Magic. That was jmcqk6's idea, but I expanded on it. Some extra history on how magic appeared on Earth, when the separation between wizards and Muggles started and how Dark Magic came to be was also a very nice addition to the story, as well. Any questions you might have about how this story will go are also accepted, provided that you don't try to pry into matters too far into the future. I'll have to repeat it again, because I'd bet that there are already several reviews prepared to either admonish me or insult me about the fact that I made the correct choice of couples but they don't see it that way: Harry and Hermione are SIBLINGS, and thus, will NOT become lovers. Harry and Ginny WILL become lovers, although there is still some time till they reach that part. Ron and Hermione WILL ALSO be lovers (their first date will be around their third year, more or less). Now that my opinion has just been exposed, please, send your reviews (reviews, not flames). Remember, don't like, don't read! A/N: For the SIYE readers: the author notes are mostly for the benefit of the FF.net readers. There are still several people that like Harry/Hermione. Hope that you liked this chapter (I counted more than 10000 words) |
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