Rigsandbill
28 July 2007, 05:55 PM
I started an unofficial eighth book, and here it is. The cover art is Hagrid, McGonagall, and Dumbledore dropping Harry off at the Dursleys. This remembrance will be important later in the book.
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http://www.rfshq.com/upURS/image/3445.jpeg (http://www.rfshq.com/upURS/view/3445)
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Chapter One
The Plotting of the Night
Harry Potter was sleeping in his home in Godric’s Hallow. Nobody was there, and all was quiet. Little did he know that miles away from this safe suburban home, a group of weary Death Eaters were creating a conspiracy.
Indeed, somewhere in a small village, three men were having a discussion inside a muddy, deserted hut. There names were Draco Malfoy, Samson Fennigs, and Crowley Crabbe. The room filled with a musty air as Malfoy paced down the hall, stroking a dark crimson snake.
“It’s been eighteen years, and I still have not served my purpose to the Lord. But how? How can I serve him? What is there to be done for a man of great accomplishment?”
Fennigs, a dark-skinned man of about twenty, spoke up.
“Draco, how many times must we explain? He is dead. Volde-”
“Don’t you dare speak his name, you despicable oaf! You were on Potter’s side.”
Malfoy said the word “Potter” with a hateful glare, as if this unfortunate boy was no more than a slobbering bull hound. In mid-step, Malfoy stopped and thought over what he had just said.
“Would it be considered a good deed for the fallen master if I killed Potter?”
At these words, Crabbe, who was usually quite silent, snorted. He had been a second-cousin of one of Malfoy’s old school friends, and he was proud to be so. His cousin had died fighting for Lord Voldemort, and this made him want to live up to Vincent Crabbe’s assistance to the Lord.
“You think my ideas are funny, do you Crowley? I reckon you are too cowardly to finish your cousin’s work.”
Crabbe instantly stopped. He had never known what his cousin had accomplished, and he was yearning to finally find out. Yet Malfoy went on, not looking at Crabbe.
“Yes, that is what I shall do. Fennigs, will you assist me in bringing Potter to his untimely demise?”
Fennigs shrugged his shoulders and said, “Most certainly, Draco.”
Malfoy looked pleased. He already had one helper, and surely Potter wouldn’t be able to destroy three powerful Death Eaters. Yes, the “Chosen One” could not be so elusive this time. The luck was with them this time.
All three friends raised there glasses and said, “To the end of Harry Potter, the boy who lived. To the Dark Lord, who will soon be avenged by our willingness to serve. And to Draco Malfoy, who will triumph over the others, who will do what the almighty Voldemort never could. Kill the filthy half-blooded Potter.”
With a clink of three glasses simultaneously coming in contact, miles away, the boy named Harry Potter awoke to a pain in his magical scar.
Chapter Two
What Never Happened
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, felt his forehead. It appeared to be cold, yet he had felt a burning sensation scarcely seconds ago. Groping for his glasses in the dark, Harry’s hand came in contact with them, and he grabbed his wand.
“Lumos,” Harry muttered. A small drop of light appeared at the tip of his wand. Harry used this light to find his lamp. Pulling the cord, he said, “Nox.” The light from the wand vanished, and he was again in mostly darkness. Around Harry’s bed lay an empty (but slightly singed) owl cage, a pair of emerald green dress robes, a yellowing map of Hogwarts, a few pairs of old socks, and some Muggle clothing which he donned when in non-magical territory. Next to these objects was the photo album Hagrid, a half-giant, had given to him when Harry was only eleven.
With a grunt, Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. An owl flew through the window, and he snatched a piece of parchment from its talons.
Harry,
Ron and Hermione tell me you’ve been living in your parents’ old house. How are you holding up? Scar not bothering, I assume? Anyway, the weasleys told me to inform you about their holiday to Romania. Charlie’s friends are gonna take them on a tour. Do you fancy going? Send your response by return owl. Which brings me to another thing; I got you this new owl. She’s named gilvon, and I would like to give her to you.
Cheers,
Rubeus hagrid
The barely legible handwriting, along with its message, made Harry smile for the first time in days. He didn’t know what was keeping him so unhappy, Voldemort had been defeated and the dementors were back in Ministry control, so they couldn’t be sucking the happiness out of Harry. Pushing his gloomy thoughts to the back of his head, Harry wrote quickly, and somewhat more sloppily than he would have usually done:
Okay, Hagrid, I’ll go. Tell Mrs. Weasley I said hi.
Harry stuffed five pairs of jeans, three sweaters, and four T-shirts into a duffel bag. He also packed a book Ron had given him a year ago, along with his holly wand, a Nimbus Two-Thousand Four (he had lost his Firebolt when he was sixteen), and a thick Elder Wand, which he had taken from Voldemort a few months ago.
When satisfied with his luggage, Harry slung the duffel bag onto a bedside table and waited for his new owl, Gilvon, to return. A few hours later, the red-brown owl soured through Harry’s window, and landed on his dresser.
“About time,” Harry muttered, but the bird took no notice. She simply stuck out her foot, which had a tattered note attached to it. Harry’s eyes rose as he saw the letter.
Harry you have to leave! Death eaters intercepted your letter; they’re coming to Godric’s hollow!
Harry stared at the paper in horror for a few seconds. Then he turned it over.
Sorry, Harry. I had to do that to make sure you were the real Harry. If the enemy had truly found your owl, they would not bother to read this side, they would come to Godric’s hollow after you. As you know very well death eaters are no more, as is you-know-who, we have nothing to worry about. Come to king’s cross right now, we’re all waiting. I have enclosed a portkey with this message.
Harry was now not scared, but greatly confused. If there were no longer any followers of Voldemort, than who were the enemies? And what Portkey? Then he noticed the owl, which appeared to be choking on something. “Scourgify!” murmured Harry distractedly. He stared back at the letter. Then he looked at the object that had just thudded to his feet. A Muggle car battery. Harry remembered how Mr. Weasley collected batteries, and laughed. All of a sudden, something occurred to him. The battery was the Portkey! He grabbed it, and felt the familiar feeling of a hook yanking him off his feet.
Harry landed on the rails of a train track. An express locomotive was speeding at him. Just in time, he grabbed his wand, and hollered, “Petrificus Totalus!” It worked surprisingly well, seeing as the Full-Body Bind jinx was intended for use on people, not trains. When Harry was out of the way, he cast the counter-jinx on the train to get it moving again. Then he hoisted himself up and saw the smiling face of his best friend, Ron Weasley.
“Blimey Barny, your hair got darker.”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry said, grinning. Then Hermione ran up and hit him with a hug so hard she almost knocked Harry back onto the train tracks.
“Harry, we’ve missed you; where’ve you been; has anything happened?”
“God Hermione, give the guy a chance to breathe.”
Harry smiled, and then filled Ron and Hermione in on what he had been. Hermione was very interested on the Anti-Muggle shielding charms that had been put on the house. Ron was interested in Harry’s new broom, which he had received from Neville Longbottom as a birthday present.
“A Nimbus Two Thousand-Four? Not close to the speed of the Firebolt II, but I hear they hold together pretty well.”
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry and Ron went into deep discussion about the new models of brooms, and which team had ordered how many of which model. This chat ended when the Weasleys walked over.
“Hi, Harry!” said Arthur, enthusiastically extending his hand, “Did you see the work I did on that car baggabe?”
“Harry, you look starved! Have you been eating enough lately?” exclaimed Mrs. Weasley.
“Harry ol’ chap, what’s up?” asked George, “You get ’ear okay?”
Harry put on his most realistic smile as he shook hands with and hugged all the Weasleys. When he saw Percy, George secretly jinxed off Percy’s eyebrows with his wand behind his back. Harry mouthed, “Nice”.
“Hey, Harry!” Bill Weasley called. He and his wife, Fleur Deleclaur, were also coming to Romania with everyone else. After the hellos had stopped, Harry and the Weasleys got ready to make the routine journey to Hogwarts.
“Why are we returning to Hogwarts?” asked Harry, puzzled.
“We need to pick up Ginny, and also I want to ask Headmistress McGonagall a question or two.”
They slid through the wall to Platform 9 ¾ like gelatin, and Harry was astounded to see the Hogwarts Express just waiting there for them. The driver, who he had never seen before, showed his face. Harry squinted, but in the dim light he could just make out the face of a man who used to work at the bookstore in Diagon Alley.
They clambered aboard the train, and set off to Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed one of the rooms. George, Bill, and Fleur got a second one, and Percy, Arthur, and Molly got their own room. Harry sat down and asked his friends, “What’s happened in the last four months?”
“Not much, really,” Ron replied, “No signs of You-Know-Who, or any of that stuff.”
Hermione said, “Ronald here has been attempting to get a driver’s license.”
Ron groaned, “And I almost got one, but that git rear-ended me. He had it coming, anyway…” Ron’s voice trailed off.
“What did you do to the poor Muggle?”
“He deserved it, should’ve known when he bought that thing it couldn’t handle being flipped over.”
“You WHAT?”
Harry and Ron had a laugh about the driving application incident, while Hermione heard a noise outside. She got up and looked down the hall. Nothing. She started in a pace down to the front cabin, and then Hermione broke into a run as a hoarse voice screeched,
“Where are you, girly? Are you allllliiiiive in there? Not for long. Old Fenny has some tricks up his sleeve this time, disgusting little Mudblood.”
Hermione sent stunning curses behind her, but then, in a puff of black smoke, a figure appeared before her. It was Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who supported Voldemort and enjoyed killing young children. She screamed, and Arthur Weasley ran out of his cabin. “Stupefy!” He bellowed, though more Death Eaters appeared. Bill, Fleur, Molly, and George opened their doors curiously.
Seeing what was happening, they joined in the fight. Ron stood up suddenly. “Where’s Hermione?” he wondered aloud. He and Harry looked at each other, and then bolted out of the room into the hall of the still-moving train. “Expelliarmus!” gasped Harry, aiming his wand at a Death Eater, who flew back and smashed the windows behind him.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” yelled a short, fat man. Molly Weasley deflected the spell and sent a hex at the man’s head, which transfigured it into a teapot. Smoke poured out of the teapot, which gave the Death Eater the ability to quickly disapparate. “How did they know we were here?” asked Harry. “Sectumsempra.” he added as another Death Eater drew his wand.
“They must have tracked us here!” yelled Arthur over all the noise. A woman in robes of blood red sent a jet of green light at Ron, who threw himself to the floor. “Crucio!” screeched Hermione, and the woman cried out, giving Ron and Harry time to pull themselves up. Without warning, in the middle of the hall, Draco Malfoy apparated.
“Hello, Potter. Weasel. Mudblood.”
Harry acted at once, muttering, “Imperio!” Draco instantly dropped the smile. He walked towards the Death Eaters and said, “Oi! Stop fighting, we have work away from here tonight.” One by one, the men Disapparated. Harry flicked his wand once and removed the Imperius Curse. By instinct, Ron punched Malfoy in the nose.
“What da ell wash dat all aboud?” said Draco, rounding on Ron. Then he turned to Harry, “I swear dey adted on deir own, I nebber told ebbyone you were ‘ere, I dinnit know.”
Hermione said, “Harry, it looks like he’s telling the truth. Reparo,” she added, pointing her wand at Draco’s nose.
“Who are these people who were after us? Leftover Death Eaters?” demanded Harry, glaring at Malfoy.
“Actually, t-they are old friends of m-my dad’s. We formed t-the Pact of the Shadow Avengers.”
“What the bloody-” started Ron, but Malfoy cut him off.
“The Shadow Avengers are a group founded by my father. H-he ordered them to finish his bidding after the D-Dark Lord died. When he was killed two months ago in A-Azkaban, I became the leader.” Malfoy now had tears in his eyes, and for a fleeting moment Harry felt sorry for him. Then in a loud snap, Malfoy Disapparated.
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http://www.rfshq.com/upURS/image/3445.jpeg (http://www.rfshq.com/upURS/view/3445)
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Chapter One
The Plotting of the Night
Harry Potter was sleeping in his home in Godric’s Hallow. Nobody was there, and all was quiet. Little did he know that miles away from this safe suburban home, a group of weary Death Eaters were creating a conspiracy.
Indeed, somewhere in a small village, three men were having a discussion inside a muddy, deserted hut. There names were Draco Malfoy, Samson Fennigs, and Crowley Crabbe. The room filled with a musty air as Malfoy paced down the hall, stroking a dark crimson snake.
“It’s been eighteen years, and I still have not served my purpose to the Lord. But how? How can I serve him? What is there to be done for a man of great accomplishment?”
Fennigs, a dark-skinned man of about twenty, spoke up.
“Draco, how many times must we explain? He is dead. Volde-”
“Don’t you dare speak his name, you despicable oaf! You were on Potter’s side.”
Malfoy said the word “Potter” with a hateful glare, as if this unfortunate boy was no more than a slobbering bull hound. In mid-step, Malfoy stopped and thought over what he had just said.
“Would it be considered a good deed for the fallen master if I killed Potter?”
At these words, Crabbe, who was usually quite silent, snorted. He had been a second-cousin of one of Malfoy’s old school friends, and he was proud to be so. His cousin had died fighting for Lord Voldemort, and this made him want to live up to Vincent Crabbe’s assistance to the Lord.
“You think my ideas are funny, do you Crowley? I reckon you are too cowardly to finish your cousin’s work.”
Crabbe instantly stopped. He had never known what his cousin had accomplished, and he was yearning to finally find out. Yet Malfoy went on, not looking at Crabbe.
“Yes, that is what I shall do. Fennigs, will you assist me in bringing Potter to his untimely demise?”
Fennigs shrugged his shoulders and said, “Most certainly, Draco.”
Malfoy looked pleased. He already had one helper, and surely Potter wouldn’t be able to destroy three powerful Death Eaters. Yes, the “Chosen One” could not be so elusive this time. The luck was with them this time.
All three friends raised there glasses and said, “To the end of Harry Potter, the boy who lived. To the Dark Lord, who will soon be avenged by our willingness to serve. And to Draco Malfoy, who will triumph over the others, who will do what the almighty Voldemort never could. Kill the filthy half-blooded Potter.”
With a clink of three glasses simultaneously coming in contact, miles away, the boy named Harry Potter awoke to a pain in his magical scar.
Chapter Two
What Never Happened
Harry Potter, the boy who lived, felt his forehead. It appeared to be cold, yet he had felt a burning sensation scarcely seconds ago. Groping for his glasses in the dark, Harry’s hand came in contact with them, and he grabbed his wand.
“Lumos,” Harry muttered. A small drop of light appeared at the tip of his wand. Harry used this light to find his lamp. Pulling the cord, he said, “Nox.” The light from the wand vanished, and he was again in mostly darkness. Around Harry’s bed lay an empty (but slightly singed) owl cage, a pair of emerald green dress robes, a yellowing map of Hogwarts, a few pairs of old socks, and some Muggle clothing which he donned when in non-magical territory. Next to these objects was the photo album Hagrid, a half-giant, had given to him when Harry was only eleven.
With a grunt, Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. An owl flew through the window, and he snatched a piece of parchment from its talons.
Harry,
Ron and Hermione tell me you’ve been living in your parents’ old house. How are you holding up? Scar not bothering, I assume? Anyway, the weasleys told me to inform you about their holiday to Romania. Charlie’s friends are gonna take them on a tour. Do you fancy going? Send your response by return owl. Which brings me to another thing; I got you this new owl. She’s named gilvon, and I would like to give her to you.
Cheers,
Rubeus hagrid
The barely legible handwriting, along with its message, made Harry smile for the first time in days. He didn’t know what was keeping him so unhappy, Voldemort had been defeated and the dementors were back in Ministry control, so they couldn’t be sucking the happiness out of Harry. Pushing his gloomy thoughts to the back of his head, Harry wrote quickly, and somewhat more sloppily than he would have usually done:
Okay, Hagrid, I’ll go. Tell Mrs. Weasley I said hi.
Harry stuffed five pairs of jeans, three sweaters, and four T-shirts into a duffel bag. He also packed a book Ron had given him a year ago, along with his holly wand, a Nimbus Two-Thousand Four (he had lost his Firebolt when he was sixteen), and a thick Elder Wand, which he had taken from Voldemort a few months ago.
When satisfied with his luggage, Harry slung the duffel bag onto a bedside table and waited for his new owl, Gilvon, to return. A few hours later, the red-brown owl soured through Harry’s window, and landed on his dresser.
“About time,” Harry muttered, but the bird took no notice. She simply stuck out her foot, which had a tattered note attached to it. Harry’s eyes rose as he saw the letter.
Harry you have to leave! Death eaters intercepted your letter; they’re coming to Godric’s hollow!
Harry stared at the paper in horror for a few seconds. Then he turned it over.
Sorry, Harry. I had to do that to make sure you were the real Harry. If the enemy had truly found your owl, they would not bother to read this side, they would come to Godric’s hollow after you. As you know very well death eaters are no more, as is you-know-who, we have nothing to worry about. Come to king’s cross right now, we’re all waiting. I have enclosed a portkey with this message.
Harry was now not scared, but greatly confused. If there were no longer any followers of Voldemort, than who were the enemies? And what Portkey? Then he noticed the owl, which appeared to be choking on something. “Scourgify!” murmured Harry distractedly. He stared back at the letter. Then he looked at the object that had just thudded to his feet. A Muggle car battery. Harry remembered how Mr. Weasley collected batteries, and laughed. All of a sudden, something occurred to him. The battery was the Portkey! He grabbed it, and felt the familiar feeling of a hook yanking him off his feet.
Harry landed on the rails of a train track. An express locomotive was speeding at him. Just in time, he grabbed his wand, and hollered, “Petrificus Totalus!” It worked surprisingly well, seeing as the Full-Body Bind jinx was intended for use on people, not trains. When Harry was out of the way, he cast the counter-jinx on the train to get it moving again. Then he hoisted himself up and saw the smiling face of his best friend, Ron Weasley.
“Blimey Barny, your hair got darker.”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry said, grinning. Then Hermione ran up and hit him with a hug so hard she almost knocked Harry back onto the train tracks.
“Harry, we’ve missed you; where’ve you been; has anything happened?”
“God Hermione, give the guy a chance to breathe.”
Harry smiled, and then filled Ron and Hermione in on what he had been. Hermione was very interested on the Anti-Muggle shielding charms that had been put on the house. Ron was interested in Harry’s new broom, which he had received from Neville Longbottom as a birthday present.
“A Nimbus Two Thousand-Four? Not close to the speed of the Firebolt II, but I hear they hold together pretty well.”
Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry and Ron went into deep discussion about the new models of brooms, and which team had ordered how many of which model. This chat ended when the Weasleys walked over.
“Hi, Harry!” said Arthur, enthusiastically extending his hand, “Did you see the work I did on that car baggabe?”
“Harry, you look starved! Have you been eating enough lately?” exclaimed Mrs. Weasley.
“Harry ol’ chap, what’s up?” asked George, “You get ’ear okay?”
Harry put on his most realistic smile as he shook hands with and hugged all the Weasleys. When he saw Percy, George secretly jinxed off Percy’s eyebrows with his wand behind his back. Harry mouthed, “Nice”.
“Hey, Harry!” Bill Weasley called. He and his wife, Fleur Deleclaur, were also coming to Romania with everyone else. After the hellos had stopped, Harry and the Weasleys got ready to make the routine journey to Hogwarts.
“Why are we returning to Hogwarts?” asked Harry, puzzled.
“We need to pick up Ginny, and also I want to ask Headmistress McGonagall a question or two.”
They slid through the wall to Platform 9 ¾ like gelatin, and Harry was astounded to see the Hogwarts Express just waiting there for them. The driver, who he had never seen before, showed his face. Harry squinted, but in the dim light he could just make out the face of a man who used to work at the bookstore in Diagon Alley.
They clambered aboard the train, and set off to Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed one of the rooms. George, Bill, and Fleur got a second one, and Percy, Arthur, and Molly got their own room. Harry sat down and asked his friends, “What’s happened in the last four months?”
“Not much, really,” Ron replied, “No signs of You-Know-Who, or any of that stuff.”
Hermione said, “Ronald here has been attempting to get a driver’s license.”
Ron groaned, “And I almost got one, but that git rear-ended me. He had it coming, anyway…” Ron’s voice trailed off.
“What did you do to the poor Muggle?”
“He deserved it, should’ve known when he bought that thing it couldn’t handle being flipped over.”
“You WHAT?”
Harry and Ron had a laugh about the driving application incident, while Hermione heard a noise outside. She got up and looked down the hall. Nothing. She started in a pace down to the front cabin, and then Hermione broke into a run as a hoarse voice screeched,
“Where are you, girly? Are you allllliiiiive in there? Not for long. Old Fenny has some tricks up his sleeve this time, disgusting little Mudblood.”
Hermione sent stunning curses behind her, but then, in a puff of black smoke, a figure appeared before her. It was Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who supported Voldemort and enjoyed killing young children. She screamed, and Arthur Weasley ran out of his cabin. “Stupefy!” He bellowed, though more Death Eaters appeared. Bill, Fleur, Molly, and George opened their doors curiously.
Seeing what was happening, they joined in the fight. Ron stood up suddenly. “Where’s Hermione?” he wondered aloud. He and Harry looked at each other, and then bolted out of the room into the hall of the still-moving train. “Expelliarmus!” gasped Harry, aiming his wand at a Death Eater, who flew back and smashed the windows behind him.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” yelled a short, fat man. Molly Weasley deflected the spell and sent a hex at the man’s head, which transfigured it into a teapot. Smoke poured out of the teapot, which gave the Death Eater the ability to quickly disapparate. “How did they know we were here?” asked Harry. “Sectumsempra.” he added as another Death Eater drew his wand.
“They must have tracked us here!” yelled Arthur over all the noise. A woman in robes of blood red sent a jet of green light at Ron, who threw himself to the floor. “Crucio!” screeched Hermione, and the woman cried out, giving Ron and Harry time to pull themselves up. Without warning, in the middle of the hall, Draco Malfoy apparated.
“Hello, Potter. Weasel. Mudblood.”
Harry acted at once, muttering, “Imperio!” Draco instantly dropped the smile. He walked towards the Death Eaters and said, “Oi! Stop fighting, we have work away from here tonight.” One by one, the men Disapparated. Harry flicked his wand once and removed the Imperius Curse. By instinct, Ron punched Malfoy in the nose.
“What da ell wash dat all aboud?” said Draco, rounding on Ron. Then he turned to Harry, “I swear dey adted on deir own, I nebber told ebbyone you were ‘ere, I dinnit know.”
Hermione said, “Harry, it looks like he’s telling the truth. Reparo,” she added, pointing her wand at Draco’s nose.
“Who are these people who were after us? Leftover Death Eaters?” demanded Harry, glaring at Malfoy.
“Actually, t-they are old friends of m-my dad’s. We formed t-the Pact of the Shadow Avengers.”
“What the bloody-” started Ron, but Malfoy cut him off.
“The Shadow Avengers are a group founded by my father. H-he ordered them to finish his bidding after the D-Dark Lord died. When he was killed two months ago in A-Azkaban, I became the leader.” Malfoy now had tears in his eyes, and for a fleeting moment Harry felt sorry for him. Then in a loud snap, Malfoy Disapparated.