All recognized characters belong to J.K. Rowling
Everything else is mine.
R – for violence, language and adult content
Contains male/male pairings- That's SLASH... you know, GAY
** This starts at the end of book 4 (Goblet of Fire)
Harry Potter and the Parliament of Dreams
Chapter 1 - Darkness Ascendant
Draco Malfoy slowly picked himself up off the floor. The last thing he could remember was tormenting Potter, Weasel and the Mudblood. He had just started to say something about Cedric Diggory’s death when he had been hit from every direction by hexes and curses.
The train had apparently stopped moving a bit of time ago, as the compartment next to them was empty of everyone. Crabbe and Goyle were next to him in the corridor and were just waking up as well.
‘At least the hexes seemed to be wearing off,’ he thought idly to himself. Draco was no sooner standing fully upright again when he was knocked back to the floor by a fist slamming into the side of his head. This caused him to crash to the floor again and he looked up into the eyes of his most recent assailant.
“No son of mine would allow Potter to best him,” Lucius growled.
“Father, he had…” Draco trailed off when Lucius’ face darkened still further.
“You will be spending more time in the cells! Now get off your lazy arse and get the hell off this rusty muggle contraption,” Lucius yelled, barely containing his homicidal rage.
Lucius savagely kicked both Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, “I’m not waiting for you two fools. GET UP!”
Goyle and Crabbe leapt up and all three boys practically ran off the train. Lucius followed them out, practically foaming at the mouth. "Bloody fools," Lucius growled.
Draco saw that the station was cleared of all but a handful of Hogwarts students and their families. He turned when he heard the whistle of Hogwarts Express as it started to pull away. He spotted their luggage on three different carts near the barrier and he pointed it out to the other two boys. All three had just got their luggage when Lucius stalked up.
He glared at the boys and they ran through the barrier, pushing their luggage carts ahead of them. He followed them through a moment later. They went straight towards the ancient muggle limousine that the Malfoys owned and used on the occasions that required muggle transportation. This mostly consisted of the trips to King’s Crosse.
The car started to move as soon as Lucius got in. There was an illusion of a driver sitting in the front to stop muggles from seeing the magical nature of the vehicle. In the back, Draco was sitting between Goyle and Crabbe. Lucius sat across from them and glared at all three boys for the entire two-hour trip to Malfoy Manor.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was not having a much better time himself. He was seated in the backseat of uncle Vernon Dursley's newest car. Harry never could figure out why his uncle had a preoccupation with being better than everyone else. The only person he could think of that was anything like his uncle was the ultra-rich Draco Malfoy.
Harry’s thoughts soured at the thought of Malfoy. Harry could accept the fact that Malfoy was a conceited prig, but why in Merlin’s beard did he always have to torment Harry?
Harry’s thoughts then turned towards the upcoming summer vacation. The only two things he could think of that was worse that spending a summer with the Dursleys were to spend a summer with Hogwarts Caretaker Argus Filch or with Professor Severus Snape. Of the three choices, he actually preferred Professor Snape, his least favorite Professor. At least Snape was a wizard.
Harry was deeply troubled by being out of contact with his friends. It meant that he would be alone with his thoughts, and all of his thoughts had lately been drifting towards Cedric Diggory and his cruel death. The nightmares he was having weren’t really diminishing at all and the memories of the Tri-Wizard Tournament were still quite vivid in his mind’s eye. Since his aunt and uncle didn't like wizards at all, he didn’t think that they were going to be terribly sympathetic to his monumental discomfort from the whole thing. The thought struck him for the first time that Voldemort hated muggles as much as his Uncle hated wizards. Fortunately, he thought dryly, his uncle didn’t have any real power.
The trip had blinked by rather quickly as Harry lost himself in his admittedly scattered thoughts. The large car pulled into the perfectly normal drive at the perfectly normal house in the perfectly normal neighborhood (thank you very much).
“Take your stuff to your room and stay there. We will talk after dinner,” Vernon said, with a disgruntled look on his face.
Harry nodded to his uncle. Seemingly satisfied, Vernon left the entryway and entered the living room. Harry turned to go up the stairs and found himself face-to-face with his cousin. Smeltings, apparently, had managed to get the rotund boy to lose some weight. He was still big, but was considerably closer to normal-sized. Dudley glared at Harry and did not move.
“The little wizard has returned, eh?” Dudley droned at him.
“Unfortunately,” Harry replied with his eyes narrowed.
Dudley glared at him. After facing the evil of Voldemort, Harry found that his larger cousin just didn’t frighten him anymore. He did find himself wishing that he could use his wand to cast a spell to move the larger boy aside, though.
“You don’t like it here? That’s good. I’d prefer if you weren’t here either,” Dudley replied while continuing to glare at Harry.
“We can finally agree on something, it seems,” Harry said, sounding very detached, cold.
Dudley just continued to glare at him while remaining immobile on the stairs.
“Move. Now,” Harry finally snapped at Dudley.
The larger boy’s eyes opened in shock as he moved, seemingly not under his own control.
Harry stomped his way past him, his trunk suddenly much lighter, almost floating behind him.
Harry finally got all his stuff up to his room and set it down. He looked around at the disused room for a moment before going over and opening the window. He went back and let Hedwig out of her cage. She gave him an affectionate nip and then sailed out the open window.
Harry went over to his bed and lay down. He was feeling very tired and he just wanted to get some sleep in before dinner. For the first time in quite a while, he dropped into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It didn’t take long at all for him to start dreaming.
This time it wasn’t about Cedric.
As soon as the car stopped, everybody scrambled out. Draco tried in vain to get to his room and away from his father. Lucius dropped a restraining hand on Draco’s shoulder, effectively preventing him from going anywhere at all.
“You two should go inside and use the Floo Network to get home. Your fathers are expecting you,” Lucius said to a cowed Crabbe and Goyle.
“Thank you sir,” Crabbe managed to squeak out as the two boys rushed inside.
“You, my dear Dragon, are going to be punished,” Lucius told Draco, a mad light flickering in his eyes.
“But Father,” Draco started to protest.
Lucius slapped him viciously across the mouth. Draco stopped talking and stared at his father.
Lucius smiled madly at his son as he watched a dark scarlet line stain his son’s pale chin. The blood dripped slowly down Draco’s face from a cut on his lip. Draco made no effort to stop it from doing so.
Lucius clamped his hand on Draco’s neck and pushed his only son towards the extensive dungeons, and torture chambers, that were housed under the Malfoy Manor.
Draco’s mind had shutdown in shock. As bad as his father usually was, this was much worse. Normally, his father would at least listen to an explanation. Draco barely noticed his surroundings as he went through the many corridors leading to his much-frequented cell.
Lucius opened the door and shoved Draco into the cell very roughly. Draco was caught off guard by the very viciousness of it and was unprepared to brace himself as he sailed into the wall. His head smacked the cold concrete with a loud, wet thud. There was a blood smear on the wall where his scalp was opened. He dropped unconscious onto the bed, not hearing the door slam shut and the lock clicking into place.
Lucius stalked off with a smile on his face, leaving his heir bleeding in the small cell, deep under the manor.
Draco found himself drifting in the dark. He could tell that he was dreaming, but it was unlike any dream he ever had before. Quite suddenly another Draco startled him by standing from a chair hidden in the shadows and walking towards him.
“Welcome to your conscience,” the other Draco said.
“Conscience? I’ve never had one of those before,” Draco said, sneering at double.
“I’ve always been here. The problem is you were never able to hear me before,” the other Draco replied.
“Why now?” Draco said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Now, because now is important. The games you have played in the past are coming to an end. You have a decision facing you. It has been a long time in coming,” the other Draco commented dryly.
“What? Good versus evil?” Draco sneered at his alter ego.
“Indeed,” the other Draco smirked at him.
Draco came up short on how to answer that, “What is my choice?”
“You are going to have to decide whether you are going to support Lord Voldemort or support the side of light,” the other Draco said with a wide smile.
Draco snapped irritably, “I don’t think I have much of a choice. Even if I could join that sniveling Potter and his Weasel’s side, I wouldn’t be accepted there. My father would kill me for even considering it.”
“There is much more to it than that, my dear Draco,” the other Draco blinked at him, sounding suddenly sappy.
“The choice is coming soon, very soon. Choose wisely, or we will both regret it,” the other Draco said as he faded from view.
Draco sat bolt upright like he had been zapped with a jolting curse. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat and he had to sit still for some time before it calmed enough for him to move. He got up slowly and went to the small sink in the corner of the cell and wetted a towel. He very gently cleaned the blood out of both his hair and off from his face.
Draco stared at himself in the mirror. His reflection suddenly took on a life of its own. His reflection mouthed the words “Choose wisely.” The reflection was suddenly wearing the shocked look that Draco knew to be on his face.
He had a lot of thinking to do. He would do it later though, when his head didn’t hurt so bloody much, he thought as he lay back down on his bed.
Harry came awake in his dream. This time, for once, he wasn’t in that lonely cemetery. The tall, handsome Cedric wasn’t there either.
Instead, Harry was alone in a room, with a single light, dimly lighting it. He wasn’t alone though; there was another Harry there with him.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked his double.
“The times ahead are going to be very hard on all of the people on the side of light,” the other Harry said quietly.
“No bloody shit,” Harry snapped irritably at his double.
“We are going to need the help of everyone we can get. Lord Voldemort is more powerful than he ever was,” the other Harry continued quietly, ignoring the outburst.
“I know that,” Harry replied, his temper considerably more contained.
“You need to approach Draco Malfoy and bring him onto the side of light,” the other Harry whispered.
Harry’s temper raised again, “That slimy git? How could he be a use to us?”
“He, like you, is special. You will discover more in time,” the other Harry added, forestalling Harry’s impending question.
“Trust your instincts, they won’t lead you wrong,” his dream self told him as it faded from view.
“Harry!” a female voice yelled.
Harry got up quickly and shuffled down the stairs. Petunia gave him a stern look as he took his normal seat at the Dursley dinner table.
Draco woke up at dinnertime when a house-elf made a noise next to him. The large-eared house-elf stared at Draco for a moment before backing his way slowly out of the cell that Draco was locked in.
Draco ate the food that was provided. For once, it was more than just bread and water. It was fairly decent lamb mutton. There was some good bread provided which he polished off as well.
On a nondescript wooden stand near the cell door, there was a book. Draco did not notice it sitting there until after he finished eating. Draco picked it up and noticed right away that the thick tome focused on advanced magic. He began to read it right from the beginning, since reading it was far better than staring at the gothic horror ceiling above him.
Draco’s next few days passed without contact with anyone or anything. His meals were the only punctuation in his continuous cycle of reading and sleeping. The food itself was left at odd hours and the dirty dishes vanished soon after he finished. He never noticed for sure, since he was either sleeping or reading when it happened.
For Harry, dinner with the Dursleys was the usual mixture of being outright ignored and being yelled at when he was noticed. Aunt Petunia had changed her cooking habits again. Now, instead of the rabbit food she had been feeding then, she was once again feeding them decent food. The food came in smaller portions than the old days, however. Harry did manage to get enough to eat. Harry was the first to finish and he wanted to get back to his room. He stood and was about to go back to his room when Vernon’s massive mustache twitched.
“Where are you going boy? I told you we were going to talk to you after dinner,” Vernon blustered.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, sitting back down in his seat.
It took several more minutes for Vernon to complete his own dinner. Harry waited quietly the whole time, staring out the window at the birds fluttering by.
“Petunia needs a break from the housework,” Vernon began without further preamble. “You will be doing all of it until told otherwise. You can start with the dishes,” Vernon said, pointedly looking at the huge pile of dishes next to the sink.
Harry looked blankly at the large man for a few moments before getting up to do his task.
The next few days set into an ungodly routine for Harry. He got up early every morning to cook breakfast and spent the entire day taking orders from Petunia. By the end of each day, Harry could barely move his arms and climbing the stairs to his room was difficult.
Dudley was a rather large annoyance during this whole time as well. He spent nearly equal amounts of time harassing Harry and watching television.
Harry managed to climb into his bed at the end of the fourth day of dawn to dusk work. He fell instantly into a deep sleep, dreaming for the first time since his afternoon nap the first day home. The physical exhaustion had at least kept the nightmares of Voldemort at bay.
It was sometime in the middle of his fourth night home when Draco was dragged from his bed in the cell and slapped viciously by Lucius.
“Wake up you bloody damned fool!” his father screeched at him
“Yes, sir,” the broken and defeated Draco replied.
“After a week of punishment, you will have to come with me to meet the Dark Lord. He wishes to speak to you. You will obey any orders he gives you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Draco replied quietly, devoid of conviction
SLAP! “You better sound more enthusiastic when you talk to the Dark Lord!”
Draco merely nodded in response.
Lucius was about to hit him again, but a house-elf interrupted him.
“Master, Mr. Nott is here to see you, sir. He says it is quite important.”
“Fine,” snapped the elder Malfoy as he turned and stormed out of the dungeon.
Draco went to the sink and wiped off his face, the cool water soothing the burning from the slaps. As soon as he was done he lay back on the bed and again lost consciousness.
He had a strange dream this time. He was flying on the Quidditch pitch, searching for the golden snitch, when he saw his opponent. The great Harry Potter.
He was about to head towards him when a figure in black robes and a mask appeared below him and shouted, “Crucio!”
The pain struck him hard and the last thing he saw was Potter rushing towards him with a concerned look on his face. He woke up again as his father slapped him hard across his face.
“Damn fool boy! I leave for two hours and you go back to bed? You are my son! You should be smarter than that,” Lucius roared.
Lucius proceeded to administer a punishment that topped nearly every beating he ever gave. And that was quite an accomplishment given just how much he was beaten. Lucius never lacked for reasons either. He was too nice to the other children. He was not proficient enough at ten to throw the Imperius curse. He failed to make Harry Potter his confident at age eleven. He failed to beat Mudblood Granger in grades. He did not make the top of his class. The list went on and on. Draco went to that place in his mind where he didn’t feel the pain in his body. He was vaguely aware of flying through the air just before he smacked into the wall above his bed. He was unconscious by the time he hit the bed, his body askew.
For the rest of the week, Draco went back to his routine of reading, eating and sleeping. He was sleeping when Lucius returned late one night.
“Wake up you stupid fool! We are leaving for the Dark Lord’s fortress.”
Draco’s eyes snapped open and stared at Lucius. The pain and loneliness he felt changed to anger and his eyes burned with rage. If looks could kill, Lucius would be a smoking pile of ash. He actually took a step back from Draco is surprise.
Lucius responded angrily to his own show of fear and punched Draco hard in the jaw. Draco reeled back, his eyes continuing to burn as his face contorted into a mask of indefinable rage. Lucius felt raw magical power surge around him.
Lucius’ eyes opened wide in shock as he grabbed his wand, pointed it at Draco and screamed, “STUPIFY!”
Draco continued to stare at Lucius as the power flowed faster.
Horrified, Lucius screamed, “STUPIFY!” again.
This time, Draco slumped forward unconscious, magical energy still cackling in the air around them.
Lucius almost ran from the dungeon. He Disapparated as soon as he made it past the wards he kept on the dungeon area. He Apparated next to Wormtail moments later. He was severely shaken and panting slightly.
“You were supposed to bring that brat of yours,” growled the fat, rat-faced man.
The shaken look was replaced with the Malfoy sneer, “How would you like to get fed to a large cat?”
Wormtail blanched. “The Dark Lord is awaiting your arrival. I suggest that you don’t keep him waiting for long.”
Lucius spun and stormed off to the throne room of the castle Lord Voldemort was currently occupying.
“You’re late,” said a high-pitched, toneless voice as soon as he was in the room.
“Explain yourself!” roared Voldemort when he noticed that Lucius was alone.
Lucius bowed immediately. “I apologize my Lord. I went to collect my son and he displayed a remarkable insolence. After hitting him, a tremendous amount of magical energy flowed around him. It took two applications of stupefy to sedate him. After doing so, the air around him cackled with magical energy. I came straight here after getting him subdued.”
Voldemort’s eyebrows went up slightly as his brow curled in concentration. “Go back and bring him to me at once.”
Lucius turn and hurried out of the room and Apparated back to the Malfoy Manor.
Voldemort turned and stared at the fire, which was glowing a brilliant green. He stared at it for quite some time as he waited for Lucius to return with the boy. Voldemort turned when he heard his great serpent Nagini hiss that Malfoy had returned, the boy floating unconscious behind him.
“Enervate,” Voldemort said lazily.
Draco’s eyes snapped open and he immediately glared at his father until he noticed Voldemort. All the color drained from his face, as his eyes seem to triple in size. The retort he was about to give Lucius died unsaid in his throat as his body stiffened in fright.
Lucius stepped back out of sight of Draco and watched the Dark Lord’s actions with a blank expression on his face.
Voldemort watched the boy for a short while, seeming to drink in the terror that was flowing off of him.
“You didn’t want to come to see me?” Voldemort asked, his voice having a distinct snake quality to it.
Draco stared at him in shock.
“You will answer me when I ask a question, young Mr. Malfoy!” Voldemort roared when Draco made no move to answer.
Draco still stared.
“Crucio!” Voldemort screamed, while pointing his wand at Draco.
Hundreds of kilometers away, the sleeping Harry Potter sat straight up in his bed. The pain in his scar was almost as intense as when he was standing next to the Dark Lord. He lay back down almost as soon as he was upright.
Harry then felt his consciousness drifting out of his body and flying over the countryside. He rapidly approached a large, gloomy castle. It took almost no time at all until he was standing, ghostlike in a throne room. Draco Malfoy was writing around on the ground in intense pain. Lucius was watching his son's pain with a predatory smile on his face. Voldemort looked equally sadistic.
Harry watched as Voldemort released his spell on Draco. The blond-haired boy stopped writhing around on the ground and started gasping for air. As much as Harry didn’t like Draco, he felt sympathy for him, because he knew what that pain felt like.
Harry’s own anger built as well. He hated being connected to the odious beast before him. Harry had no idea how he came to actually be here and it was frustrating not having control of his own actions. Harry’s ghostlike form moved over to hover in front of Draco of its own accord. Harry suddenly found himself between the boy on the ground and the Dark Lord. Harry shook lightly in fear, causing ripples to flow up and down his ghost form.
“Enervate!” the Dark Lord shouted. The spell passed through Harry and struck Draco, causing him to bolt upright.
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the spot Harry was floating, but refocused on Draco quickly.
“Why were you afraid of coming to me, Draco?” Voldemort whispered quietly.
“I will not serve you,” Draco finally answered.
Harry’s unseen eyebrows rose in surprise, overcoming a small portion of the fear he was feeling.
Voldemort looked angry enough to breathe fire, “Serve or I’ll take your mind away from you and you’ll serve me anyway!”
“No,” Draco said defiantly.
Harry stood still hoping against all hope he could somehow protect the boy behind him, while at the same time wondering how he managed to find himself stuck there to begin with.
Voldemort was violently angry and cast a spell at Draco that Harry had never seen before. The spell passed straight through Harry and touched Draco. As soon as it touched Draco, the spell flared around Harry, making him completely visible to the people in the room.
Voldemort yanked his wand up in surprise, canceling the spell.
Harry’s ghost form solidified in the room, becoming a semi-transparent gray. Draco stared in shock at the back of an all too familiar ghost.
“You!” Voldemort roared.
“Lord Voldemort,” Harry whispered, steadying himself, trying to be brave.
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed further, “Leave.”
“I wish I could,” Harry squeaked back.
“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort roared at Harry.
The sickly green light passed through Harry again, striking Draco.
Draco felt a violent tug and an energy drain, but it stopped quickly and he looked on in surprise at Voldemort, feeling amazed that he was still alive.
Voldemort looked alarmed, “What the hell did you do?”
Harry’s form shimmered as he shook his head back and forth, a look of confusion overpowering the look of fear on his pale ghostly face.
Voldemort walked over to his throne and sat it in with a due amount of grace. His anger vanished as he contemplated the unprecedented magical events he just participated in.
Harry slowly faded from sight, becoming a mere outline of himself. He watched as Voldemort got up and went to a vault that was hidden behind the throne. He pulled out a large ruby, ensconced on a gold medallion. Voldemort strolled right up to Draco and touched the jewel to his temple.
Voldemort had his eyes closed in concentration for a few moments before he leaped backwards in shock.
Harry was feeling very tired now, barely able to keep his consciousness in Voldemort’s throne room. His form winked in and out of visibility.
Voldemort forced himself to calm down as he cast a last spell. It was directed at Harry, but he didn't recognize it. Harry drifted back to sleep, leaving the room altogether.
As soon as Voldemort was sure that Potter was gone, he cast a memory charm on Draco.
“Lucius, take your brat back to your manor. Do not harm him in any way. Just leave him alone. I have to do some research on what happened here today. Do you understand me?” Voldemort asked with a hard edge in his voice.
“Yes, my lord,” Lucius said while bowing deeply.
“Go now,” the Dark Lord commanded.
Lucius and the unconscious Draco arrived at the Malfoy manor seconds later. Lucius was completely baffled by his Lord’s actions. He did bring Draco up to his own room, however. He used a repelling spell to throw his son onto his bed. He then turned and stormed out of the room, slowly only long enough to magically lock the door.
He then turned and violently kicked an unfortunate elf that was passing by laden with towels. The poor elf went airborne over the third floor railing and plummeted to the ground, three floors below. The towels the elf was carrying landed all over the ground floor like some sort of linen mosaic. The elf ended up next to the far wall, cradling its head in its arms.
Lucius growled and stormed down the stairs heading to his study.
Draco woke up early the next morning. He was hurting all over from the beatings he had received. Happily though, he was finally in his own room. He didn't remember getting there and, in fact, he couldn't remember anything since his father slapped him awake to go see the Dark Lord. Not that it really mattered.
He went to his school trunk and withdrew his wand. Knowing that the wards protecting Malfoy Manor would prevent detection of underage magic use, he cast a few healing spells on himself to repair some of the damage. Satisfied that he did all that he could, he went to his dresser and stripped naked. He stood in front of the full-length mirror for a moment, looking over his thin, toned body. His pale skin was marred in many places with ugly purple bruises.
The mirror clucked its sympathy and then cursed Lucius for damaging such a lovely boy. Draco did not dwell on his appearance, feeling too ashamed to look himself in the eye.
He turned away quickly and headed into his shower. He stayed there for over half an hour, letting the hot water clean the shame and pain, as well as the dried blood, from his body.
He felt alone, so very alone.
Harry woke up with a start and regretted it immediately. His head was pounding and his scar was throbbing as well. He stared puzzled at the wall next to his bed, but he couldn't remember anything that would have caused his scar to throb. Since he couldn’t remember, he just lay down and tried to get back to sleep. It didn't take long.
He woke up early the next morning and he worked until his bones were weary. The day did pass quickly until he was called to the kitchen, that is.
Vernon Dursley sat at the kitchen table with an odd array of emotions playing across his face. Anger, irritation, and no small of amount of dislike were all displayed. However, sympathy was mixed in which made him look odd indeed.
“Harry, the Headmaster of your school wrote a letter to us before you returned from school. We received another letter this morning,” he said stealing a quick glance at Petunia. She merely nodded for him to continue.
He looked back at Harry and continued, “He stated rather firmly that we were to allow you to study your… magic,” he spat the m-word out, “he also said something about a terrible ordeal you suffered through at the end of the school year.”
He looked curiously at Harry. They stared at each other for a little while before Vernon prompted angrily, “Well?”
“I was almost killed. A friend of mine was killed. The whole,” Harry paused, changing what he was about to say, “my people are scared due to the return of a very powerful and very evil man. He has been on the run since… well,” he simply fingered the scar on his head.
Petunia collapsed against Vernon, while Vernon turned deadly pale.
“What have you done to us?” Vernon gasped out. He raised his hand as if he was about to strike Harry.
Harry’s eyes flashed in a sudden green fire. His eyes glowed noticeably as an intense dislike came across his face.
Vernon paused momentarily in fright, but anger about being cowed by a mere boy overtook his better judgment and he swung at Harry. His fist connected with Harry’s jaw and Harry fell to the floor. Only a small thump was heard when he landed. Vernon lost control of his rage and viciously kicked Harry in the ribs. As he did so, he yelled various insults about Harry’s parentage.
Vernon then reached down and dragged Harry up by the neck. There was blood trickling out of his mouth and nose. Vernon had only a few moments to ponder what he had done before Harry’s eyes snapped open and all three windows in the kitchen burst into a million pieces of glass. Moments later, the lamps, glasses and plates burst too.
Vernon dropped him and Petunia could only stare in shock.
Harry picked himself off the floor and stared at Vernon with anger boiling in his eyes. Vernon and Petunia, for the first time in their lives, could feel magical energy rolling off from Harry like heat from an oven. Harry’s eyes glowed an intense green so bright that it was difficult to look at. He ignored the blood trickling down his chin from the cut on his lip as he glared at his uncle like some sort of creature that needed prompt extermination. Vernon stared back at him for a few moments before taking a step forward to try to retake control of the situation.
Harry waved his hand and Vernon was picked off his feet and thrown backwards into the kitchen wall, scattering the pots and pans in every direction. Vernon slid down the wall unconscious.
The intense glow in Harry’s eyes flashed out suddenly and Harry felt utterly drained. His eyes drooped and he collapsed to the floor, unable to hold himself up any longer. Harry's arm landed in the broken glass from the windows and the force of the impact severed an artery in his wrist. The bright red blood from the cut flowed out quickly while Petunia could only stare in horror.
Flora Sprout and Minerva McGonagall were in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for the first time since the students had left the castle for the summer. Even though they were discussing business, in this case the class syllabus for the third year Herbology classes, they were also relaxing. They were each about halfway through their second butterbeer of the evening.
Minerva stopped mid-sentence and stood up so fast that her chair flipped over backwards. Flora saw the talisman that Minerva was wearing glowing brightly and up nearly as fast knocking over her own butterbeer in the process. They were halfway out the door by the time Flora was able to speak.
“Minerva, that’s the spell detector for Potter, isn’t it?”
“Yes! We need to Apparate there right now.”
As soon as she was clear of the Three Broomsticks, she did just that.
Flora nodded and Disapparated a moment later. They both reappeared as close to number 4 Privet Drive as they could get. They ran towards the house as fast as the old woman could go and Minerva used a blasting spell to blow open the front door.
The sound of the door bursting open startled Petunia from the bloody mess in front of her. She started shaking violently and screaming at the top of her lungs. Professors McGonagall and Sprout followed the noise and stormed into the kitchen.
Professor Sprout took one look at Petunia and yelled, “Stupefy!”
Petunia landed on the only part of the floor not occupied with glass.
McGonagall glanced at the rapidly growing pool of blood beneath Harry and she cast a spell to slow the bleeding. She looked at Harry’s pale, bruised face in shock.
“Merlin’s beard. What happened?” Sprout asked looking Harry over as well.
“I think our young Mr. Potter might have accidentally used a talent which we didn’t know he had. After getting beat, that is,” McGonagall said with her eyes narrowing dangerously.
“You don’t mean that…”
“Of course that’s what I mean!” Minerva snapped.
“We must tell the headmaster immediately.”
“We need to get him out of here first so Poppy can look him over. I didn’t realize these muggles where so horrid to him. The poor boy has barely been home a week.”
“We’ll need to get past the anti-Apparation field. Then we can go straight to Hogsmeade.”
“Let’s go. We’ll let the Ministry clean up those worthless muggles,” Minerva commanded as she magically lifted Harry on to the stretcher she conjured up.
It took a bit of time, almost fifteen minutes, to get to Hogsmeade, since they had to carry Harry free of the anti-Apparation area while avoiding Muggle detection. As soon as they were in Hogsmeade, they jumped into the horseless carriage that they had used earlier.
Harry was strewn across the seat opposite the two professors. He was a shocking shade of white and his wrist was slowly seeping blood. The carriage careened up the drive towards Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of the Gryffindor House, stared at the Boy Who Lived with a deeply worried look, hoping against hope that he would once again live up to that name.
End of Chapter 1
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