Harry Potter and the Thirteenth Sign

The memory of the last time she had seen him was imprinted deeply and clearly within her mind. Whenever she needed to relax or wanted to get away she'd let her thoughts drift back to that day...

"Well I guess there isn't much to say," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes, "I hope you have a great holiday...I'll write you...the muggle way of course. What with everything that's going on..." She remembered gazing up into those eyes. They were vivid, emerald green eyes that seem to stare right into her soul...searching...but for what?

"Okay," she remembered saying, "and er I just want you to er know that I'm er...I'm not with Neville."

Thinking about the stupidity of those last words, a blush crept onto her cheeks but she didn't mind, she was too caught up in the gentle breeze caressing her skin and the boy standing in front of her...

He laughed a kind of nervous laugh and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she couldn't seem to get control of herself. "Well I should pre going," she half-whispered to know one in particular, "Kingsley's waiting on me." She jerked her head in the direction of the tall, dark-skinned wizard standing a few feet away conversing with Mad Eye Moody. "I'll see you later Harry," she said.

She turned to leave when he called out to her, "Wait!" She grinned in spite of herself and turned around to face him. In two strides he had walked up to her, their bodies almost touching. "I just wanted to say that, I er, I like you a lot, and I uh, guess that's it, so uh yeah." His face flushed and he looked everywhere but studiously avoided her face.

"I like you too," she whispered, "but."

She remembered when she'd said that word-but, his head had jerked up and in his eyes she saw how he was trying to mask the hurt that he undoubtedly felt.

"Moody and Kingsley are looking rather annoyed, so I think I better go." Upon realizing that he wasn't being rejected, Harry let out a breath and smiled.

"Alright then, I should probably go say something to Ron and Hermione before I leave."

What had happened next wasn't expected, it just...happened.

The kiss was swift yet chaste. It was over so quick that she had to convince herself that it had happened. One look at Harry's face told her that it had happened. She closed her eyes for a moment, only for them to snap open as Moody came over to the two yelling, "We haven't got all day for you two to be over here sucking face! Potter let's go!" he growled. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and steered him away, only giving him time to wave before he was whisked out of sight, lost in the crowd.

Stretching, she leaned against the wall. He'd never written to her as promised but she couldn't find it in herself to be upset about that. Their world was in the clutches of war and he was caught up in the middle...granted, she was too, but it was he who was in the path of the most eminent danger. Voldemort. She shivered in spite of herself, playing absently with the tattered tassels of the rug beneath her. It didn't seem like a year had passed since she first saw him...that year being one full of surprises, joy, and pain...but for now, let us start at the beginning...

Harry Potter and the Thirteenth Sign

Harry squirmed in his chair and picked at the meat loaf Mrs. Weasley had prepared.

"Harry is there something wrong?" asked Mr. Weasley, "are you feeling ill?"

Harry looked up from his plate to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, staring at him with worried expressions on their faces.

"No, I'm just a bit tired. I think I'll go upstairs for a bit and have a nap."

"Poor boy," he heard Mrs. Weasley say as he trudged up the stairs.

As Harry plopped down on the bed in the room he shared with Ron, he let his thoughts wander. The truth of the matter was that he hated this house. Twelve Grimmauld place.

'This was Sirius' home,' Harry thought determinedly, 'not some place people should be able to just waltz in and out of.'

The house, its walls, the tapestry that accounted the genealogy of the Black family; they all brought back the memories he'd tried so hard not to think on. Over the course of the summer, The Order swelled in number, as more and more people came to the awful realization that a war was upon them. The Weasley family had moved to the house for the summer, taking care of the upkeep as members ran in and out, sent on various assignments and tasks. At first it had been hard to stay in the old house, it seemed wrong somehow. He always had that lingering feeling that one day, out of the blue, Sirius would come waltzing through the door, his hair hanging in his face and a big smile adorning his: adorning the ruggedly handsome features which had made girls swoon over him back when he was at Hogwarts. But it never happened.

Harry had come to stay at Order headquarters for the end of summer, happy to be escaping the Dursleys. True, it had been a much more pleasant summer with Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley. This was largely due the fact that Moody had threatened them when they arrived at Kings Cross to pick him up. Of course, if they weren't scared of Moody, it would have been an entirely different story but Harry was grateful nonetheless. Harry would daresay that his relatives had almost been pleasant to him.

His scar was tingling slightly, a constant reminder that Voldemort was alive and well, poised to strike at any moment. Harry let his thoughts linger over what Dumbledore had told him that day in his office; the day after Sirius was killed.

Either he or Voldemort had to die. One could not live while the other was alive.

Those words had been another heavy burden on his mind; only second to his thoughts about Sirius. Harry was tired of losing people to Voldemort. Sirius was the only link he'd had to who his father really was. Sure there was Lupin, but it wasn't the same. Sirius and James had had a special connection, something Lupin hadn't understood. Harry felt it was his fault that Sirius was dead.

'If only I'd opened the mirror sooner,' he contemplated, 'Sirius would be here.'

His concentration was broken as he heard murmurs outside his door. He got off the bed and leaned against the door, pushing his ear to the cool wood.

"She's in danger, Albus," he heard a voice say, "you and I both know that she is the sign Sybill was speaking of."

"Yes Kingsley, indeed she is the one," Harry heard another voice say...a voice that was undoubtedly Dumbledore's. "I think it would be best if she were placed under my care...at Hogwarts."

'Who are they talking about?' thought Harry.

"I suppose that would be a right idea," Kingsley said. "She has no idea what is going on. Do you think I should tell her?"

"I will tell her of the prophecy myself. The rest is yours to handle."

There was an odd silence that followed the headmaster's words and Harry strained to hear what was going on the other side of the door. Suddenly, the door flew open, and Harry unceremoniously tumbled out onto the floor.

"Hello," Harry said as he sheepishly got to his feet.

"Harry," said Kingsley with a nod. "Albus, I daresay that you should talk to her now, she'll have a while to think about things afterwards."

"Very well then," said Dumbledore. He looked to Harry and winked. "All in good time, Harry," he said, as he swept down the stairs following a nervous looking Kingsley.

Curious, Harry waited a moment and then raced down the stairs after them, bumping into Dumbledore as he came to the landing. He found himself on the floor for the second time, staring up at the headmaster who had a grin painted on his face.

"I was just going to suggest that you come down. Ron and Hermione are worried about you."

Harry could hardly contain himself, "Upstairs in the corridor...who were you talking about?"

Dumbledore smiled, "All in good time," he said again, "all in good time."

He swept past Harry and went to greet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley before Disapparating out of the house, leaving Harry feeling largely dissatisfied.

"Hey Harry," called Ron, "fancy a game of chess?"

Sighing, Harry trudged into the kitchen and reluctantly played Ron in a game of Wizard's Chess in which he was soundly beaten.

"You are getting better," said Ron with a small smirk, "I reckon you could knock Ginny out in about ten minutes or so...her concentration hasn't been the same since she discovered boys."

"I heard that!" came a voice from the kitchen.

Harry snickered lightly. Ron hadn't taken well to the news that Ginny was going out with Dean. He was convinced that Dean wasn't good enough for his "baby sister". As a result, he was constantly nagging Ginny about her taste; all the way from boys to the way she wore her hair. It was really quite funny...for Harry and Hermione anyway; Ginny didn't seem to like all the attention.

"Drop it Ron," Hermione reprimanded from her chair by the fire, "you are getting quite bothersome with all the Dean rubbish. It reminds me of when you were constantly harassing me about Viktor."

"How are you and Viktor," Ron asked smartly, "I heard that he..."

There was a slight rumbling sound coming from the fireplace. It soon turned to a soft knocking. Everyone in the room froze. Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen followed by Ginny both wearing soiled aprons.

"Well, isn't one of you going to get the door?" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Mum, it's not the door," said Ron in a slightly shaky voice, "it's the fire."

Mrs. Weasley looked toward the fire. The rumbling was getting louder and it sounded as if something was making its way down the chimney.

"Alright children," said Mrs. Weasley, "step back behind me."

She withdrew her wand and pointed at the fireplace, ready to attack whatever was coming down. Ron and Harry had also withdrawn their wands, their hearts jumping around nervously in their chests.

There was a sudden pop. Mrs. Weasley screamed and fainted, taking Harry and Ron down in the process.

Ginny screamed.

"Look!" cried Hermione gleefully, "it's just our Hogwarts letters!"

Indeed they were. The letters had flown out of the chimney and neatly into Hermione's hands.

"What's going on?" asked Fred as he apparated into the sitting room.

"Yeah we heard someone scream," said George as he appeared with his wand drawn.

Ron let out a low groan and Hermione went to help him up. Seeing that they were in no eminent danger, Ginny snapped to action and went to help Mrs. Weasley. The older woman seemed to be coming to. Fred and George stood surveying the scene, sniggering at the absurdity of it all.

"W-w-what happened?" asked Mrs. Weasley groggily.

"It was just our school letters Mum," answered Ginny, "it's all alright."

"Yeah, everything except my legs," Ron groaned.

"You'll be fine," Hermione assured with a giggle, "up you get Harry," she said as she helped Harry to his feet.

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley sheepishly, as she stood up and brushed herself off, "let's see what we'll need then."

Hermione handed everyone their letters, which they all tore into excitedly. Harry quickly read through his letters:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry

Sixth year supply list:

The Manual of Dark Arts Defence By Sir William Bodcheck

Ordinary Wizarding Level results:

Astronomy ~ A

Care of magical creatures ~ O

Charms ~ O

Defence against the dark arts ~ O

Divination ~ D

Herbology ~ E

History of magic ~ D

Potions ~ O

Transfiguration ~ O

We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted into n.e.w.t classes for the following subjects:

Charms

Defence against the dark arts

Potions

Transfiguration

In addition to these classes, you will be required to take at least two electives of your choice from the following:

Ancient runes

Arithmancy

Astronomy

Care of magical creatures

Divination

Herbology

History of magic

Muggle studies

Please send your elective choices by owl no later than August 15th. We look forward to seeing you September 1st.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy head mistress