Harry Potter and the Scroll of the Ages

`Of the disasters that through the centuries have inflicted untold misery upon Western Europe, the Black Death of 1348 must rank among the most devastating. Spreading throughout the Levant into the central Mediterranean and thence north and west, it left in its wake a decimated population and ruined economy.´

-

Anthony Molho, The Crisis of the Fourteenth Century

Harry Potter and the Scroll of the Ages

Chapter 1

Harry Potter awoke in a cold sweat for the third time that week. Considering it was only Tuesday, Harry was in a sorry state by even an insomniac´s standards.

"Damn nightmares," he grumbled, peeling his face from the unfinished History Of Magic essay he´d fallen asleep on (not that that was surprising; the way Binns taught the subject could make even the most bloody goblin rebellions seem dull and uninteresting). Finding his glasses, he looked at the repaired alarm clock on the makeshift nightstand next to his bed; 5:26 am it read, in bright green numbers.

"What sane person wakes up at five-bloody-thirty in the morning on his own?" he asked himself angrily. With having gotten only so much sleep, his temper was much shorter than normal. Unfortunately, in the back of his mind he knew he was lucky he´d slept as late as he had.

Pulling himself out of his chair, he walked to the shower and got dressed in fresh clothes (even if they did look like they´d had the air let out of them, they were fresh). A few minutes later, he emerged from his room and tiptoed down the hall to the stairs, trying not to awake his `relatives´. He knew that Uncle Vernon had stopped sleeping like the dead long ago, and if he made even the slightest sound, the purple-faced, neckless git would come charging out of his room like a maddened bull. Harry could picture it exactly; the vein in his temple would throb, his face would turn about 8 different shades of magenta, and his eyes would bulge. He shuddered involuntarily and went down to the kitchen.

Dudley´s diet had worked miracles on him, along with the regular exercise of a school program, and the end result had been him losing over 300 pounds. He had gone from weighing close to 500 to about 150, and all of it was sheer muscle. The doctor Dudley had referred to had lost all tact and had called it "the most miraculous thing he´d ever seen" (Harry had had to duck into the men´s room, so Aunt Petunia wouldn´t see him laughing at the doctor´s open honesty) and Harry hadn´t even recognized him when they´d come to pick him up at the train station. So the diet had been chucked and everyone had gone back to eating actual food. Everyone except Dudley, that is. Evidently, he liked weighing less than a killer whale and had imposed a diet on himself (not as strict as the initial one, but a diet nonetheless); he also went running every morning. Harry had even heard him talking to Uncle Vernon about a girl on the other street that he liked. Go figure.

At first, Uncle Vernon had tried to get Harry to go running with Dudley in the morning, insisting he was getting fat sitting on his bum all day long (when in fact he spent the better part of most days landscaping the yard and replacing the shingles on the roof). However, Dudley´s diet had not lessoned his fear of spending great amounts of time alone with Harry and had squashed that idea from the first (and for the first time in years, not literally). So Vernon Dursley had given up that notion surprisingly quickly, leaving Harry to do with his mornings as he pleased.

Harry sighed and closed the refrigerator. Although the contents were much more appetizing than they had been the previous summer, he wasn´t feeling very hungry, as he hadn´t been for quite a while. Deciding he could probably force down some toast, he went over to the cupboard. Just then, Dudley came down the stairs in his running clothes.

"Why the hell are you awake?" he sneered.

"Because I´m not asleep," came Harry´s sarcastic reply from the depths of the cabinet.

"Well duh. Honestly, do you think you could treat me with a little more respect? I´m not as stupid as you seem to think," said Dudley venomously.

Harry snorted onto the marmalade. "Oh excuse me. How could it have ever have entered my mind to be anything but grateful to a person who has always been nothing but compassionate to me?" he mocked.

For the first time in his life, Dudley had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Oh and by the way, happy birthday," he threw over his shoulder, finally leaving for his morning run.

Harry just stood there with his mouth open, toast halfway to his mouth. Had Dudley Dursley just apologized, to him? Then wished him a happy birthday, managing to not sound scathing while doing it? "Maybe he is ready to have a girlfriend," he mused to himself. Then with a jolt, Harry realized that today was his birthday.

~*~*~*~

Toast forgotten, Harry went back up to his room so as to avoid any confrontations with Aunt Petunia, who Harry knew, would be getting up any minute now. Upon entering, he found that six owls sitting on his bed, all of whom were staring at him expectantly. Wait until Ron hears how I forgot my own birthday and Dudley didn´t, he mused to himself as he untied the first package from an unknown brown owl. Smiling, he recognized Hermione´s neat penmanship.

Dear Harry,

Mum and Dad got me my owl! Can you believe it? I named him Othello after one of my favorite plays (roll your eyes if you want, I happen to like Shakespeare).

At this Harry paused, then chucked, because that had been exactly what he had been doing.

Anyway I hope this finds you well and I hope you like your present, because it certainly cost enough. Happy birthday.

Love,

Hermione

He chuckled again and went to open the package. It was a set of books, and they were muggle. There was Dickens, Shakespeare, Dumas, Hugo, Poe, James, Steinbeck, Twain, Dosteyovsky, Tolstoy, Tolkien, and many more that he didn´t recognize and couldn´t pronounce. Typical Hermione, he thought. Then he noticed a note that had fallen out.

Harry-

Before you roll your eyes again and think,´ Typical Hermione´, you should know that these aren´t regular muggle novels. They´re kind of like muggle movies. You open them up and the book is played out for you. Only the books are unabridged and the acting is superb. Once you close it, it will automatically stop there, and then start back up from that point when you open it back up. Tap your wand once on the screen to start at the beginning. They´re Dursley proof as well; tap your wand twice on the screen and it will be replaced by the actual text. And don´t worry, only you can hear it.

"Oh Hermione!" he breathed. He picked up The Pearl (which he´d read in muggle school) and opened it up. Sure enough, there were the little brush houses. Shutting it, he went to untie the next package, recognizing Ron untidy scrawl.

Harry,

You know, I ask you every year what you want for your birthday, and every year you give me the same list: `I-don´t-know´s and `You-don´t-have-to-get-anything-for-me´s. Well you know what? Every time I´ve looked, the stores didn´t have those in stock for some strange reason. So if you don´t like what I did get you, TOO BAD! Well, I feel much better now.

Anyway, fair warning, Fred and George are sending you something so be really cautious when opening it. Happy birthday and don´t let the muggles bother you. If they do, just tell them to shove it where the sun doesn´t shine.

Ron

Harry laughed again at that last comment and reached for the package. Inside was a book titled The Best Seekers In Quidditch and Some Ridiculously Insane Moves That´ll Make You One (Or Kill You). Attached was yet another note:

Sorry to say but Mum talked to Dumbledore and you aren´t to go anywhere this summer. However, he did say you could take one day to go to Diagon Alley, so Mum´ll be picking you up (not by Floo) next Wednesday at 10. See you.

At this Harry sobered. A whole summer with the Dursley´s? He´d be insane by the end of the week. At least I get to go to Diagon Alley, he thought morosely. The next few packages were from Hagrid, who had gotten him a box of Chocolate Frogs, and the annual Hogwarts letter, which he decided to open later (he was more than a little angry at Dumbledore). Then came Fred and George´s gift. Carefully, he opened the letter. Nothing exploded, upon being opened, so he deemed it safe.

Harry-

Thanks to your more than generous donation, we have decided to make you a silent partner of Weasley´s Wizard Wheezes. You receive one third of the profits and you don´t have to come up with a thing (although some thoughts are more than welcome). We have also enclosed a package of a few new products for your birthday as well.

Gred and Forge

A silent partner? This troubled Harry somewhat, but he refused to think on it. He´d just ask the twins when he saw them on Wednesday. The last package was from Sirius. Inside was a book titled, What´s Your Form? A Guide To Becoming An Animagus. He´d be able to be an Animagus like his father! He´d always known he wanted to do it, he´d just not known how he´d go about doing it. Now he did, so he could. The thought cheered him up considerably. He put the book away with his other presents and looked around, gathering up the torn paper to through away. Then he noticed another package.

"I could have sworn there were only six owls," Harry muttered to himself. "Who else would send me a gift? I got Hagrid´s, Hermione´s, Ron´s, Sirius´s, my Hogwarts letter, plus one from Fred and George. There´s no one else!" he said to himself. The sudden appearance of a package was a little unnerving. "Guess I´d better open it," he mumbled. Inside was an extremely thick and battered book labeled `Social and Economic Foundations of the Italian Renaissance´.

"What the hell?" he asked himself. "Who would send me something like this?" slowly, he opened the cover and flipped through the pages. After about page 46, he discovered that the inside had been cut out, leaving a hole the size and shape of a metal tube that had been put into it. Slowly he lifted the tube out and inspected it. "What the hell?" he asked again. The tube had a lid. Pointing it away from his face, he removed the lid, fearing some sort of explosion or attack. Nothing happened; sighing with relief, he looked inside. Within, he found an ancient looking scroll. Pulling it out, it looked to be about five feet long. It wasn´t written in English either, or any other language he recognized. Furthermore, it wasn´t the kind of parchment he was used to; it wasn´t white or even off white, it was deep amber yellow. "What the hell?" he repeated. He looked inside the book and tube for a note. As luck would have it, there was one inside the tube. In a spiky, cramped writing he didn´t recognize, it said:

Maybe you can make better use of this than I. Happy birthday and may you have many more.

No signature. Remembering the invisibility cloak in first year, he tried to remember what Dumbledore´s handwriting looked like. Not this, he recalled. "What the hell?" he said again, thoroughly confused.

"What´s the matter? Can´t say anything else?" came a voice from the doorway, making Harry jump.

"Dudley? What are you doing here?" asked Harry, genuinely surprised.

"Actually, I came to see what you got for your birthday. Anything good?" Dudley asked, sounding serious. Harry´s shock must have shown on his face, because Dudley laughed. "You should see your face!" he managed in between laughs. "I´ve decided that my parents are wrong about you and your school. They really aren´t right about everything, I´ve found. In fact, they´re wrong about most things. They´re just so blasted narrow-minded!" he said, throwing up his hands. "Anyway, I´m here to apologize. For them and for me."

Harry gaped. "You´re apologizing? To me? Have you gone mad?" he gasped. "I thought this morning was some figment of my imagination! Like some half-awake dream."

"Well its not. Anyway, what´d you get?"

"I, er... well, I got a book from my friend Ron and my godfather, some candy from Hagrid, some, uh well I guess you could call them books from Hermione, some tricks from Fred and George. Oh, and this really weird-"

"Your friends gave you books for your birthday? And what kind of candy and tricks did you get?" interrupted Dudley.

"Well, they´re not your typical books. The one from Ron is on this... sport I like and the one from my godfather is how to become an Animagus. Hermione´s well... I guess you really have to see them to believe. Hagrid got me chocolate frogs and Fred and George gave me some of their homemade pranks." Harry explained, still extremely shocked by this turn of events.

"Okay, I guess we´d better address this one thing at a time. First of all, what sport?" Dudley sighed.

"Quidditch," Harry explained, thinking he´d better not avoid it.

"What?"

"Quidditch. It´s a game played by... my people," Harry ended lamely.

"Harry, listen. I´m okay with the fact that you´re a wizard. Really. Now explain this game to me," Dudley told him, earnestly.

"If you insist. It´s played on broomsticks and there are four balls. The balls are called the quaffle, which is red and big, the bludgers, which are slightly smaller than the quaffle and black, and go around trying to knock people off their brooms, and there´s the snitch, which is tiny and golden with wings. Still with me?" Harry asked his cousin, so he would not get confused. Seeing him nod, he went on, "There´s seven players on a team; three chasers, two beaters, a keeper, and a seeker. The chasers go around trying to get the quaffle in the opposite teams goal posts, and the keeper tries to keep the opposite team from scoring, because one goal equals ten points for the team that scored. The beaters go around with these clubs, too keep the bludgers hitting their teammates and hitting them towards the other team as well. Are you following? Good. Then there´s the seeker. They go around looking for the snitch. The game´s only over when it´s caught, and the seeker that catches it earns his team an extra one hundred and fifty points. That´s about it." Harry finished.

"Wow," was all Dudley could say. "So it´s kind of like football and baseball rolled into one on brooms?"

"Yeah, kind of. I can lend you some books on it if you want. But be forewarned, the pictures move."

"The pictures move? Cool! I´d love to see some, but later. Now what´s an aminangos?" Dudley said, confused.

"Animagus. It´s a witch or wizard that can change into a type of animal. My dad was one; could change into a stag," he added as an afterthought.

"Any animal?" Dudley asked, impressed.

"I think so. Anyway, this book tells you how."

"Ok, next thing. What did you mean by `you really have to see them to believe them´?"

"Well they look like books, but when you open them up, they´re like movies. Here, look," said Harry, handing over The Fellowship Of The Ring. "Just open it up."

Harry watched as Dudley slowly opened the `book´ and changed from apprehension to amazement. "This is so cool! You have the best friends!" he exclaimed as Harry laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I do," was his only reply. After a few moments of Dudley watching the movie-book, he slowly shut it.

"Okay, next. What the hell are chocolate frogs?" a disgusted look crossed his face. "They´re not real frogs are they?"

"No! Of course not! They´re just chocolate that looks like a frog. They have cards for collecting in them too."

"You´ll have too let me see one later. Now what did you mean by `pranks´?"

"Oh that? That´s just Fred and George; they´re Ron´s older twin brothers. They´re the biggest troublemakers ever. The caretaker at school has an entire file on them, they´re that bad. Anyway, they plan on opening a joke shop when they get out of school, full of their magical creations. They sent me some for my birthday."

"Cool! Can I see some?"

Harry gawked at him. "You want to try one of Fred and George´s creations? Willingly? All right, but be really careful. And don´t worry, they´re not supposed to harm you," he said, reaching for their box. He decided on a Canary Cream, and handed it to Dudley.

"It looks okay enough," and with that, he popped it into his mouth (Harry flinched). After a few seconds, a large yellow canary stood where Dudley Dursley had been. Then he molted and Dudley reappeared, laughing hysterically. "You really weren´t kidding about those two were you?" Harry shook his head.

"So is that all you got?" he asked, sobering.

"Well, actually, no. I also got this; from who I don´t know," he said, handing over the book.

"Social and Economic Foundations of the Italian Renaissance?" he read. "Who the hell would send you this?"

"Open it," he replied.

Dudley did, and pulled out the metal tube. "What the hell?"

"Open the tube," Harry instructed.

Dudley took out the scroll and unrolled it partway. "What in hell´s name?" he muttered.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Now you know what I was swearing at," he added, leaning against the wall.

"Guess I do, don´t I?" he murmured, still looking at it. "You say you don´t know who sent it? That´s weird," he commented, seeing Harry shake his head.

"Hey maybe that letter explains something," he said, pointing to Harry´s unopened Hogwarts letter.

"No, that´s only the list of supplies for next year at school. Nothing new," he said, shaking his head.

"Don´t know what to tell you then mate,"

"Well, Hermione takes Ancient Runes at school, so maybe she can decipher it. No use dwelling on it, I suppose," he said, distractedly.

This had been the strandest birthday by far that he´d had since Hagrid coming to take him away from the Dursley´s when he was eleven; except, then it had been more nice than weird. With the mysterious appearance of the ancient scroll, then Dudley´s change of heart, who knew what would come next?