Harry Potter and the Unknown Power

Chapter One

It was a hot day, for June, on Privet Drive. Children were shrieking with laughter, running through sprinklers on deep green lawns, while the adults were ensconced in their neat, tidy homes. It was summer and everything was alive, glowing and happy. All except for a thin teenaged boy with dark, unkempt hair working in the back garden of Number Four.

He was wearing faded and patched jeans several sizes too large for him, a T-shirt stained with grime and sweat, and his glasses were precariously sliding down the tip of his nose as he worked. His thoughts were as dark as the expression on his face.

Any passerby would have thought that such was the normal expression of a normal teenage boy doing his chores, but this was no normal boy. This was Harry Potter, and he was a wizard. Even as he attacked the weeds in his Aunt Petunia's hydrangea bed, his wand was hidden in the waistband of his jeans, and what remained of his godfather's pocketknife tucked into his sock, for although he was a wizard, he was different from any other wizard in his world.

It was only a couple of weeks since the battle in the Department of Mysteries, where Sirius Black, his godfather, had been killed. Harry still felt waves of guilt washing over him, If only, he thought, if only I had used the mirror. Only a couple of weeks, as well, since he had come face-to-face with the Dark Wizard who was trying to kill him. Thoughts of Voldemort made him think of the prophecy; these were thoughts he was trying to avoid. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he forced himself not to think about Sirius, and quickly blinked them back. His cousin, Dudley, had noticed him tearing up a few days ago, and had begun taunting him. Harry remembered the feeling of sheer power running through his veins as he had whipped out his wand and held it to Dudley's soft throat. He watched with deep satisfaction as Dudley gulped, and looked at him with cold fear in his small blue eyes. Before he could issue so much as a threat, he heard cold, high laughter in his head. He had staggered back, spun on his heel, and stormed away. My anger fuels him, I have to learn Occlumency. Anything Voldemort found amusing couldn't be good.

Harry and the Dursleys had found an uneasy truce after Mad-Eye Moody had warned them on the Platform at King's Cross, and had learned each other's schedules enough to stay out of one another's way. The Dursleys would eat breakfast, Uncle Vernon would leave for work, and then Aunt Petunia and Dudley would leave the house for a few hours each morning. It was then that Harry would make his way downstairs, and eat, before starting on his chores. He found that if he timed it right, he could avoid contact with them for days. However, Harry found that he was unable to avoid them at night. He wasn't sleeping well; his dreams were filled with a mysterious black veil, that cold laughter and the mad taunts of Bellatrix LeStrange, the woman who had killed Sirius. His nightmares caused him to scream out in the dead of night, waking the Dursleys from their peaceful slumber, and causing his uncle to shout out, "Shut up, boy!" Harry welcomed the summer list of chores for once; they helped keep his mind off of...everything.

Every three days, Aunt Petunia would leave him a note on the kitchen table; Write a letter. She never mentioned to whom he should send it, but he knew. The Dursleys were worried that his kind would pay them a visit if they didn't hear from him for three days in a row. He had sent Hedwig, his snowy owl, this morning.

Professor Moody,

It is quiet on Privet Drive; I will be in the back garden this afternoon, weeding. Tomorrow, I will be painting shutters, and the following day I am supposed to mow the lawn.

Harry

He knew he was still under guard, and had taken to reporting his schedule to the old Auror. After he watched Hedwig soar off into the pale sunrise, he had sit on the floor, with his legs crossed and forced himself to empty his mind. He imagined a bowl, like Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve, and poured his thoughts into it. He didn't know if it was working; he still had nightmares, but he thought he noticed a difference in his temper.

Harry was bagging up the weeds, aching after being stooped over for so long, and was getting ready to go inside for a cool drink when a tiny grey ball of fluff came zooming towards him. He jumped high and caught the minute hooting owl.

"Pig! Let me have that!" Harry wrested the scroll from his beak and opened it. Pig, Ron's overeager owl, was hooting deliriously from within his fist.

Harry,

Pack your trunk, mate! Dumbledore says you can come and stay with us for the rest of the summer! Everything has been arranged; someone from the Order will come for you at five o'clock tonight. The challenge is the Marauder's Map.

See you soon,

Ron

Harry grinned; I've only been here for a couple of weeks! This was his earliest release yet! He finished putting the gardening tools away, grabbed a sandwich and bolted up the stairs. He threw all of his books, robes and broomstick into his trunk, and then rushed to take a shower. He made sure everything was out of the space under the loose floorboard and took down his calendar. He lay on his bed, thinking about Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, and seeing his friends again.

He heard the Dursleys come in from shopping, and glanced at the clock, only fifteen more minutes. He dragged his trunk down to the door and went in to the kitchen.

"Erm, someone is coming for me in a few minutes, I wanted to say goodbye," Harry watched as they glanced at one another.

"Good riddance, boy, suppose you will be back next summer?" asked Uncle Vernon, sourly.

"Yes, sir," he replied, trying hard not to grin at the prospect of leaving.

The doorbell rang, and Harry hurried to answer it. He recognized Tonks with her neon green hair, and Lupin as they both stood waiting at the door. He leveled his wand at them as he opened the door, "Nymphadora, Professor, I believe you are both familiar with the Marauder's Map?"

"I've told you not to call me that, Harry, it's Remus, I'm not your professor anymore," answered Lupin, smiling, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

"Harry, really, that name! Alright, though, constant vigilance, I suppose. Let's see... Mischief managed!" smiled Tonks.

Harry smiled and let them in, and closed the door behind them. Lupin was wearing a worn, but impeccably cared for grey suit, his hair was neatly trimmed, but more grey was showing through the dark blonde strands. He looked tired, but smiled warmly at Harry as he hugged him tightly.

"Really, what will the neighbors think? In broad daylight? Put that thing away, boy!" cried Aunt Petunia, she glanced at Tonks' hair and closed her eyes briefly, "Well, there he is, take him!"

"We are just waiting for the signal, Mrs. Dursley, then we will be on our way," said Tonks, with a gleam in her eye, "Still, I could do with a drink, couldn't you, Harry?" She waved her wand at the coffee table and conjured a bottle of Butterbeer. Harry grabbed the bottle and gulped some down; he was still thirsty from weeding the garden. "I think we ought to shrink your trunk, too, Harry, don't you?" she asked as she waved her wand over the trunk and put the tiny bit of luggage into her pocket. Lupin smiled and vanished the Butterbeer bottle with a discreet wand movement once Harry was done. Harry looked at Tonk's outfit; worn, but well-fitting jeans, and a black T-shirt with a Muggle rock band printed on the front.

Harry pointed to her shirt, "Metallica? I didn't know you listened to Muggle music, Tonks."

"Muggles! However else do you think they got to be so talented?" she grinned cheekily.

"There's our signal," said Lupin, pointing to the plume of white smoke in the sky, "Come on, Harry, let's go." Harry jerked a nod in his Aunt's direction, and winked saucily at Dudley, who whimpered and pressed himself firmly to the wall behind him, before turning to follow his old professor into the waning light.

They filed out of the neat, tidy house and made their way around Magnolia Crescent, into Mrs. Figg's house.

"Come in, come in, I don't know how watchful Mundungus is today. The Floo Powder is on the mantle, help yourselves, I have to get dinner out for Mr. Tibbles. Good luck to you this year, Harry," Mrs. Figg was still as batty as ever, her worn carpet slippers making a soft shish on the hallway runner.

"Read this first, Harry," said Lupin quietly.

Harry read the slip of parchment, "The Weasley family resides at the Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole."

It was written in a familiar loopy hand, and felt his shoulders slump. He resisted the temptation to shout in anger and tamped down the wild surge of magic that coursed through him. Again, he could hear a faint echo of laughter, a leftover from last night's vivid nightmare. He grabbed a pinch of glittering green powder, threw it into the fireplace and shouted, "The Burrow!"

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace and dusted himself off, and nearly fell over when he was grasped in a firm hug by a short, plump red haired woman, "Oh, Harry! I am so glad that Dumbledore let you come to us so soon!" Her hands fluttered over his hair, and his clothes.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, it's good to be here, too," replied Harry, sniffing the wonderful aromas of what promised to be an excellent dinner.

"Harry!" Ginny flew down the stairs, and hugged him hard. He patted her awkwardly on the back, noting that the top of her head was just below his chin. This feels good, he thought. He pulled away from her with a slightly startled expression on his face.

"Ron! Help him get his trunk upstairs, dinner will be out in the garden tonight. It should be ready in a few minutes," said Mrs. Weasley. Harry watched as he turned towards the stair as Tonks and Remus huddled and whispered with her, before following Ron.

Harry and Ron deposited his now enlarged trunk in Ron's room. There were new posters of his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. He had also framed the photograph Harry had given him for his birthday, signed by the team. The players all waved from their broomsticks at him. Harry looked at Ron. How on earth did he manage to grow two inches in two weeks?

"It's good to have you back, mate; Fred and George are doing really well with their joke shop. They said we can go and work for them for a few hours if we wanted, it would be nice to get some extra gold this year. Bill went back to Egypt, he is just on temporary assignment, should be back in time for Halloween. Charlie is still here, he is working on something, we just don't know what exactly. Percy is still a git. Ginny is around somewhere, and I haven't heard from Hermione in a few days. She and her parents went to Italy on holiday. She is much better, too," Ron finished in a rush.

Remembering the slip of parchment, he asked, "Is Dumbledore the Secret Keeper for the Burrow, too?"

Ron nodded, "He thought it would be best, for you and all of us. Lucius Malfoy knows that my parents are with Dumbledore, and before you think we are in danger because of you, old chap, we would have been just because they don't agree with You-Know-Who. You've heard Mrs. Black's portrait, the Weasleys are a bunch of blood traitors. We would be on his list anyway." Ron's neck was flushed red as he finished.

Harry saw the deep welts on his friend's arms, and felt a flush rise in his own cheeks, "And those?"

"Madame Pomfrey sent me home with some stuff. It helps, but I still get weird thoughts or memories that I don't think are mine sometimes. Its okay, Harry, Dumbledore reckons it'll go away in time. It's brilliant; really, I was trying to finish my essay for Sprout, and all of sudden, while I was trying to think of something to say, the words just popped into my head. I think it may come in handy, really. Though, on occasion, I get a flash of something that isn't really memory, and then five minutes later, it'll happen. You don't think that's too weird, do you?"

"Well, I'd say you would make a better Seer than Trelawney. Just let me know when to duck, all right?"

"Done!" Ron grinned back at him. He sobered, "Harry?" Ron looked at him carefully, before asking in a serious tone, "How are you?"

"That's a tough question to answer. I'm okay. Not great, but not bad, either. I just don't want to think about it, any of it," said Harry firmly.

"Enough said. But you know when you are ready...?"

"I know where you live," said Harry with a faint smile.

"Ron! Harry! Ginny! Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, from the back yard.

They all clambered down the stairs, and out into the garden. It was wild and there were riotous splashes of color everywhere, from the last of the spring daffodils, to the giant lilac tree in the corner. It was unkempt and natural, with tiny birds and brightly colored butterflies flitting from blossom to blossom, exactly the sort of garden he would have, if he owned his own house. He briefly thought about Grimmauld Place, now that Sirius was gone, but he squashed that thought down. He wasn't going to let his anger and sadness ruin what looked like a wonderful dinner.

The tables were groaning under the weight of the dishes and platters full of food. Harry pulled a tray of chicken towards him and heaped his plate full of potatoes, vegetables, and fresh homemade bread. He filled his glass with iced pumpkin juice and tucked in.

He listened to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talk about the Ministry and the Order. He glanced around. Mr. Weasley caught his eye, "We are safe here, Harry, the Fidelius Charm goes all the way around the meadow. You lot can play Quidditch and still be safe, though I would prefer that you wait until someone can be on the ground and watch, just to be sure."

"Where did Remus and Tonks go? I thought they were going to stay for dinner? What is Fudge up to? I haven't gotten the Prophet in a while." Though the Prophet was now reporting some truths about Voldemort's return and questioning the efficiency of the Ministry, it was still a lot of waffle, and Harry didn't see the point in taking it anymore.

"Remus went back to, erm, Headquarters. And Tonks, I believe, has Auror duties to attend to. And the Prophet is calling for a vote of no confidence, as soon as they can round up enough signatures, they will present it to the Wizengamot. At last count, they only need a few hundred more," seeing Harry's expression, "Sorry, you have to be of age to sign the petition."

"Has the Prophet speculated on who will take his place?" Harry asked, making a mental note to write to Remus later.

"There have been a few names, Amos Diggory for one, Amelia Bones for another. Either would make a very good Minister," he said flushing slightly.

"Yeah, Harry, they've even said that Dad should run! Can you imagine Malfoy's face if Dad was Minister? We wouldn't have to listen to that rubbish about his father's connections anymore!" Ron said gleefully.

Ginny snickered, she paused to twist her wand up in her hair to get it out of her face, and Harry couldn't help but notice. He wrenched his attention away from her and replied, "I think you would be a good Minister, too, Mr. Weasley."

Ginny said, "You know, Dad, if we could get the Prophet to say that Harry backed you, you would be a shoo-in. The Boy-Who-Lived and all that. Sorry, Harry, I know you hate that stuff."

Harry looked at her thoughtfully, "It could work, you know. I don't mind doing it, Mr. Weasley."

Ron joined in, "Yeah, we could get the Quibbler to print it, too. Luna and her dad live just over the hill."

"Luna has been by every couple of days to look for some nonsense or other. I think she is looking for Ronald, personally," teased Ginny, "I'm sure she would be happy to do a favor for Ronald."

"Now, now, your father is perfectly happy where he is, and you lot don't need to be talking to the press. Your excursion into the Ministry last month still hasn't died down. Everyday there is some rot about You-Know-Who walking around someone's quiet little village," said Mrs. Weasley, sternly, eyeing each of her children in turn, before turning her eye on Harry. He squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. He felt as though he deserved a thorough scolding for leading Ron and Ginny into danger during the last term. And Hermione was nearly killed. Harry forced the guilt away, and kept eating.

"And Ginny, dear, Luna is a lovely girl, don't tease your brother," said Mrs. Weasley, with a fond smile, "Don't you think she is lovely, Ron?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Mum!" Harry watched as a knowing glance passed between Ginny and her mother. Ginny caught his eye and winked. Harry felt his stomach do a slow roll as a brilliant smile flashed across her face. Harry thought, Ron's little sister! Ron's BABY sister!

After they had finished their dinner, Ron and Harry did the washing up and settled in the living room to play chess. Ginny stretched out on the hearth rug with a thick stack of parchment, reading each one slowly, and jotting down notes in a small leather bound book.

Ron wagged a finger at Harry, "You've been practicing!" Nevertheless, Ron won the match in just twelve moves. He offered to play Harry again, "I'll even take off my Queen's side knight and castle!"

"Sure, set it up, and I'll get us something to drink," said Harry, standing and stretching. He glanced down at Ginny who was still methodically working through the papers in front of her. She had pulled her wand out of her hair and had the end in her teeth.

"What are you doing, Ginny?" Harry asked, It's odd, I've known her for years, and I don't think I have ever pursued a conversation with her. What on earth is going on with me?

"Hermione sent me some of her OWL practice papers. I've been checking off the things I know and writing down the things I need to learn. Charlie told me that I would need eight OWLS to be accepted into the Healer programme," she said absentmindedly.

"A Healer? What made you decide to do that?" Harry was mystified; he had assumed she wanted to be an Auror, too.

"With the war, we are going to need more Healers and medi-witches, aren't we?" She said matter-of-factly. Harry was stung; he had thought about the war as being just himself and Voldemort for so long that he forgot that there were going to be other people, and from the tone of her voice, a lot of other people, involved, too.

***

Later that night, Harry lay in bed and looked out of the window into the night sky. He forced himself to stop thinking about the war, and the need for additional medical personnel, though he couldn't help but feel relieved in a way that Ginny wouldn't be fighting on the front lines, as it were. The old house creaked and groaned as it settled and felt himself drifting off, completely at peace with the world.

Just as he was about to drop off into the world of dreams, when he heard a muffled noise that he couldn't quite place. He felt his stomach clench, as he heard it again. He sat up, straining to hear, as he shook off his sleepiness. He slipped out of bed, and crouched on the floor, he was wide awake now, and had his wand gripped in his hand. He crept to the door and could hear the noise more clearly. He stepped into the hallway and thought about waking Ron up, but then thought No; remember what happened to Sirius the last time you went off into the unknown. He didn't want to drag anyone else into danger. He followed the sound until he reached a closed door, and the noise was on the other side of it. He turned the handle, ignoring the prickling in his scar despite its discomfort. He opened the door wider and saw Ginny lying on the floor, sobbing as a tall figure loomed over her, his long thin fingers pointing a wand directly at her heart, the cold sound of his soft laughter filling his ears. Harry shouted and raised his wand, ducking as the spell was fired at him. He fell onto the floor with a thump and sat up in Ron's bedroom, with the bedclothes tangled around his legs, and cold laughter echoing in his head.

"Harry, are you all right? Was it another vision?" Ron handed him a glass of water, and Harry drank gratefully. He shivered as he recalled Ginny's face as she crouched on the ground. Ron slipped a blanket around his shoulders, and wrapped him up tightly, rubbing his back briskly. Ron looked at him worriedly, his freckles stark on his pale face, even in the dimness of their room. "It's alright, Harry," he said a little awkwardly, "You're safe here."

Ron's bedroom door swung open with a mighty force as Mrs. Weasley entered, followed by Ginny and Mr. Weasley, all wearing rather concerned expressions. Harry guessed that he had made quite a commotion, and felt horribly guilty for waking each of them up. "Ron? Harry? What happened?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley was standing behind her with his arm on Ginny's shoulders.

"Harry had another nightmare, Mum," he replied.

"Was it like that time...with the snake?" asked Mr. Weasley gently.

Harry shook his head, "No, it was just a nightmare, I'm all right, I am sorry I woke you. Really, I'm all right, my scar doesn't hurt, just burns a bit." After insisting repeatedly that he was fine and Mrs. Weasley had hugged him tightly, as if trying to convince herself that he was all right, she ordered everyone back to bed. However, Harry had the distinct impression that they were not completely convinced.

He settled back into bed, and this time he stayed awake through the night. Voldemort is trying to make me do something stupid. I can't put them in any more danger. I just can't. I don't want to push them away, they're all I have, but I can't let anything happen to them either. Dumbledore thinks that Occlumency will help keep Voldemort out of my head, perhaps he's right.

The weeks stretched on, and Harry was undisturbed by new dreams. His days were filled with Quidditch and chess, chores and homework. But in the back of his mind was the constant worry that his very presence was making the people he loved most targets; the lack of dreams was vaguely unsettling.

He had taken to sitting on the floor, with his eyes closed, thinking about his mental Pensieve. Ever since his nightmare, he found himself really focusing on his memories. He had taken to pouring all of his secrets into the small stone basin he had pictured in his mind. Afterwards, he felt better, somehow, in a way that he couldn't quite name. Ron had watched amusedly the first few mornings, but had become accustomed to it.

Harry was watching a memory of his favorite nursery school teacher, Miss Watts. She was young, pretty and very kind to young Harry, in his too-large hand-me-down clothes, and his beat-up glasses. He's had a cold that day, and wasn't allowed to go outside to play during recess. So she had pulled him onto her lap and read a wonderful story about four children who discovered a magical land hidden in a wardrobe. It was one of the few instances of genuine kindness that he could remember.

Ron came bounding into the room and waited patiently until Harry opened his eyes, "Harry, mum said we could go into Diagon Alley tomorrow. Fred and George need some help and they said they would pay us five Galleons an hour! Tonks is meeting us here after lunch and then we can go," Ron said excitedly.

Harry grinned, "Sounds great! It'll be nice to go into Diagon Alley when we don't have to pick up any supplies for school. I don't think I've ever been there for any other reason." Harry thought a moment, and asked casually, "Is Ginny going to go, too? I'm sure she could use the extra pocket money."

Ron answered, "Yeah, she threatened Fred with some kind of hex she is working on for her Arithmancy homework. I don't know what it does, but he backed down pretty quickly after that." Harry turned to pull clothes from his trunk in order to hide a wide smile.

That afternoon, Harry was riding one of the twins' old brooms, working with Ginny. The Comet 250 didn't have the speed he was used to, nor did it respond as well as his Firebolt, but it did provide a much more stable platform for throwing and presumably swinging a heavy bat at the Bludgers. He found he was better able to provide closer coaching on it, than from his Firebolt, too. She was determined to be a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year. Ron was at the far end of the meadow guarding a makeshift hoop. After she managed a tricky move that involved her diving towards the pitch and then shooting straight up to score from below, they landed and headed for the picnic lunch Mrs. Weasley had brought.

"You're losing your touch, brother mine! You'll have to do better than that if you want to block anything Hufflepuff has to offer!" gloated Ginny, "Did you see that move?" Ron scowled at his sister, but as he flopped onto the blanket, Harry could see his proud smile.

"Ginny, you've gotten quite good! Bill will be so pleased! It seems I have my own Quidditch team, don't I? Ron is the Keeper, Ginny and Bill were Chasers, the twins were Beaters, and Charlie was a Seeker. And I guess I actually have two Seekers, including you, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley warmly. "Maybe I will be able to come to Hogwarts for one of the matches." Harry, warmed at being included amongst her children, exchanged smiles with Ron, and Ginny at Mrs. Weasley's comment, and then hungrily dug into the feast laid out before them.