Harry Potter and the Changing Curse

The Curse

The graveyard looked like any other graveyard, misty, spooky, and dark. There was little amount if any trees. The moon lit up the sky so no stars could be seen; though it did not reach the ground where the robed dark figure stood. The wind swept across the grassy hills making a chill creep up his spine. Tombstones, grass, and weeds surrounded the small flat area around him. On top of a hill he saw large house that looked all too familiar. His jet-black hair flowed in the wind, whipping against his face and revealing the lightning scar on his forehead. He looked up, and what he saw made him catch his breath.

Cedric Diggory looked back at him with hollow and glazed over eyes. He was lying on his stomach with his head turned toward the other boy, he wasn’t moving. Harry knew he was dead. That look was something he couldn’t get out of his nightmares for the past couple of weeks. He looked around and found no one else there. He felt the familiar fears in the pit of his stomach grow but he tried not to show it.

He had learned since the end of last term in his fourth year that it was good not to let your enemies know if you were scared or frightened. It was a weakness. He was having a hard time right now though.

"Hello," Harry called out. His voice echoed a little. No one answered as he thought. Harry didn’t like this; he was alone in the last place he wanted to be. He didn’t know quite what to do. Am I dreaming he thought? He didn’t know. He tried to look around but realized he didn’t have his glasses. At that moment, things had just gotten blurrier. Ignorance is bliss, he thought. He was getting a little cold when the wind picked up, he decided he couldn’t just sit there. Harry turned around and was met by red slits of eyes.

He let out a silent scream of pure horror, so much for not showing your weakness he thought bitterly. Harry stumbled backward and fell over a tombstone. The disembodied eyes formed the face and body that owned them, and all too soon, was he facing Lord Voldemort again. Voldemort glared at him, then a small almost unnoticeable smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. It was the most horrifying and malicious smile Harry had ever seen.

He tried to move away but all he managed was a couple of inches before he found himself backed against another tombstone. Voldemort’s smile became even wider at this, Harry slowly turned his head looking at the tombstone. On the stone it read, Tom Riddle. Harry couldn’t believe his horrible luck, history seemed to be repeating itself.

Voldemort moved forward and slowly raised his hand to touch his face. Three inches…two inches…one inch…His scar burned so badly that he thought his head would split into two. Behind the pain he could make out the wand pointing directly at his heart. Then he heard those fateful words.

"Avada Kedavra…"

Harry woke with a start, lying down on his back and breathing hard. He was drenched in cold sweat. It took him a minute to remember where he was and that Voldemort wasn’t anywhere near him now, he hoped. He sat up and reached for his glasses on his bedside table.

Harry had just finished his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been a couple of weeks since school ended and the Dursley’s were making him work. So far he had received no letters from his friends inviting him to stay with them. This just made it worse. Harry felt he was alone. He was in a house full of people, muggles to be exact. They wanted nothing to do with him or his "kind" you couldn’t help but feel lonely.

He remembered one of the only letters he received that summer. It was from Albus Dumbledore, informing Harry that he would be allowed to use magic this summer. It didn’t say why, but Harry knew the reason. It was because Voldemort was back, and he was pretty sure almost everyone in his year and up were allowed to use magic.

His Aunt and Uncle didn’t care that he was famous, they didn’t care if he almost died, and they didn’t care if seeing a fellow classmate fall dead on the grass in front of him dramatically traumatizing him. They didn’t care about Harry. Harry didn’t care about them. And it got rather depressing after a while.

When he put them on he chanced a look at his clock. Harry groaned when he saw the time. The clock read 3:53 AM in the morning. He was officially 15 years old today. He flung off the covers and climbed out of bed. At least now Aunt Petunia can’t razz me about being lazy, he thought bitterly to himself. Harry stood up a little drowsily and looked at himself up and down in the mirror in his dresser.

A lot had changed since he was eleven, he thought to himself. Sure his face looked pretty much the same but it had become thinner, and lost the baby fat he never even knew he had. He was only wearing his boxers, it was a very hot summer so he went without a shirt; they were overrated anyway. His physique was more muscular and he was very lean looking. If you didn’t know me, he thought, I could almost look dangerous and mysterious, scary even. He chuckled to himself at that thought.

Harry took some time washing up and was taking his time putting on his clothes and his black cloak (if the Dursley’s were going to get mad at him, why not give them a reason) when he heard pecking at his window. He looked up and what he saw made him smile. There outside the window were six owls.

Harry quickly closed his dresser and climbed up on his small bed to open the window. The owls flew in and took shelter from the night in his room. Harry checked the clock again and it was about 5:22. His friends must have sent them last night, knowing he’d probably be up. Harry had told them of the nightmares that had kept reoccurring.

The first owls to fly in were Pig and Errol carrying four presents, no doubt from the Weasleys. Next, there was a school owl carrying a gift, probably from Hagrid. The rest were a paid owl from Hermione, another paid owl, and Hedwig, with a gift from Sirius.

The first gift was from Ron. It turned out to be a book called Heavenly Heroes, a new quidditch book that had gotten great reviews. The other presents from the Weasleys turned out to be a cake made by Molly, some experimental Weasley Wizard Wheezes pranks from Fred and George, and a very nice looking silver chain from Ginny. A letter from Ron came with the packages as well, he unfolded it and read.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

How have you been? Haven’t had any more dreams have you? Sorry I haven’t written to you before, we’ve been really busy and all. Fred and George have started a joke shop, they rented a shop in Hogsmeade. I don’t know where they got the money from though. They’re saying from some anonymous donor but I don’t believe them. If there is one I hope the poor sap knows what they’ve gotten into.

Anyway they bought me new dress robes, broom, and everything. There making me work it off in the joke shop this summer (Harry new Ron wouldn’t accept all that because of his pride) they still don’t have a name though. Hey, do you think I have a chance at being on the team this year, now that Wood’s gone I can be keeper.

Have you heard from Hermione? I have talked to her a little bit. She sounded really anxious because of the O.W.L.s this year (well that was brief).

There’s no real news about You Know Who. Fudge is trying to keep it quiet still I guess. Dad has been trying to alert everyone in the department near him. So far it’s working, most of them trust Dad. The only problem is Percy. He doesn’t believe Dad or you or anyone else who might say the Minister of Magic is wrong. You know how Percy is, Fudge is like a god to him, he won’t admit that he’s wrong.

Can you stay over? Mum says you can come over, but not until August18 ^th, that’s a Friday. So be ready in three weeks, Dad will borrow a Ministry car. Hermione will be here too. Send reply by Hermes and Pig.

Bye-

Ron

Hagrid gave him a huge mound of rock cakes and a book, Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them, Revised Edition (and no it didn’t bite). Hagrid gave him a short note wishing him Happy Birthday.

Harry looked over the book and realized that it had lots of changes in it, mostly from him he thought. Someone must have informed the writer, Newt Scammander about his exploits. There were also new developments and discoveries about cornish pixies, Harry laughed at this. He also moved the rock cakes over to a deserted part of the desk, as far away from himself as possible. Mental note, give them to Dudley, he smiled.

From Hermione he received one package and a newspaper. He read the note first.

Dear Harry,

I’m so sorry I haven’t written sooner Harry but I’m so busy what with studying for the exams and such. I have talked with Ron a little (again, what’s up with all the quiet treatment?). Did you know he hasn’t even started studying? We only have about a year, even less.

My family and I have been visiting the house in the country. I can’t wait to see you or Ron again. Did Ron send you an invitation to his house this summer? Well if he did I’ll see you there. If you can’t come I do hope he doesn’t do something stupid again, I’d rather know your there and safe rather than flying above all of our heads on a crazy car or broom (Hermione hated flying).

I’ve bought you a year’s subscription to the Daily Prophet as you can see (of course Hermione would give the logical gift). I’ve gotten you this gift because I know how cut off you feel from the wizarding world. I hope you like it!

Take care and hope to see you soon.

Love from,

Hermione

Harry opened the present wondering what it could be; the letter didn’t say anything about it. He slowly broke the wrapping paper, and lifted the gift up to hazy light from the street lamp outside and could make out the words ‘Stud Muffin’. Harry froze, holding up the now discovered underwear. What was Hermione thinking? Did she want to be more than friends with him?

Just as he was thinking this, a picture fell out of the packaging and onto the floor face down. Harry picked it up and it said simply ‘For my Ronnikins, I hope you wear them for me. Hermione’. Harry thought for a moment, then a mischievous smile spread across his face, which would have made even Draco Malfoy shudder.

So his friends finally found out they liked each other, he thought. It was a well-known fact that Ron liked Hermione ever since his outburst since the Yule Ball. He was just too stubborn and block headed to see it. Harry even caught him looking at her in lessons when Ron thought no one else was looking.

On the other hand, no one knew Hermione liked Ron. They all thought that Harry, being the hero of the group, would ‘get the girl’. She was pretty much the only female relation he had. But, Harry didn’t care. He was happy for his friends, now that he knew they were together, and boy was he going to have some fun with it. They didn’t know he knew.

He flipped over the card to see what the picture was. He nearly fainted from what he saw. It was of Hermione in a bikini, a very small bikini. Harry gulped; this was for Ron. She had a seductive look on her face and she was looking straight at the camera. Unlike most wizarding photographs, this didn’t seem to move. But, when he looked closer, he could see the pool’s water in the background moving. So, she must have taken this at her family’s country house. She must have set a timer, she was muggle-born so she knew how, he knew she wouldn’t have anyone take a picture of her like that.

He looked at it a little more until he reminded himself that this was one of his best friends, who didn’t even mean this photo for him. He couldn’t get out of his head how she looked, and that he wasn’t the only one that changed over the years, or for her matter the summer. He decided he had to take a cold shower later.

He still couldn’t understand why she would be sending something like this through owl post. It was a lot safer and reliable to send it through WorldWide Wizard, a huge wizarding company that specialized in delivering mail or packages that were too important or too heavy for owls to carry. They were pretty expensive but worth the service, guaranteed to deliver the parcel in less than 3 hours of receiving it.

His gift from Sirius was amazing. It looked like a small worn in leathery pouch, which you held a small amount of money in. It was the kind you tied to your belt. It felt wonderful to the touch, soft yet durable, and he could make out a very detailed yet specific pattern across it, was it a language? But this wasn’t the amazing part.

The note stated that this bag was also his father’s. Somehow it had managed to elude Sirius the past two years, so he was not able to hand it over to Harry. It could hold about 10,000 times it’s own size. It was called an Amplus bag. Harry stared in disbelief at the little bag. Since he had been corresponding with Sirius about any new dreams he had and if anything was going on with Voldemort (from Sirius), the letter also said that it was very quiet.

Harry started placing his broomstick, trunk full of clothes and books into the little bag, just to test it out. He lifted it up and was amazed to know that it was as light as if it was empty. It must have been bewitched to make it featherlight, he thought.

His last present from the other paid owl was simply a note in an envelope. As soon as he took the letter, the owl flew off into the night. Harry looked at the letter suspiciously. He opened it carefully and the note inside simply said:

aperio

Harry looked at the word. It seemed some sort of spell he thought. Harry took a deep breath and took out his wand. Expecting anything, he said the spell.

"Aperio," he whispered trying to be quiet because of the Dursley’s.

Out of nowhere he heard a loud thud on the floor. He looked down and there lay about a dozen books. There were tons of books on Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, and Charms. These however were not his normal school books. They looked a lot more advanced and a lot older too. Plus, he noted that the Dark Arts book did not say anywhere on the book ‘Defense’. Just when Harry was thinking who gave him these and why, a note appeared out of thin air, and floated down to the ground.

Dear Harry,

These are for your upcoming year, for more ways than one. Keep them safe and especially secret. I expect that you will find a great interest in them. Professor Dumbledore has acknowledged these books. I am sure you will find them of great use in the future.

Harry was still wondering who gave these to him when his alarm for his clock went off. At that moment all of the tired owls were surprised and started hooting and squawking indignantly, except for Hedwig who was use to it. Harry quickly wrote short thank you notes to his friends and let all the owls out. He used Hedwig to write a letter to Sirius.

Just when he finished shooing the owls out his bedroom and stuffed the newly found books into his Amplus bag the door slammed open, and there stood Vernon Dursley, in all his hate filled glory. Harry was so stunned that he didn’t even realize that Uncle Vernon took his wand from him. Red faced and huffing, he gave Harry the lecture and beating of his life.

"That’ll teach him," he mumbled to Petunia and Dudley.

Harry didn’t come down from his room all day, ashamed that he hadn’t even acted and that he had a black eye and some bruises to show for it. Instead, he used his time to read some of the books he had gotten from the anonymous letter writer. He did find them quite interesting and there was even a book in there that dealt with healing. So in a matter of seconds he was healed completely.

Harry surprised himself at how fast he absorbed and learned the material. Over the next few days he would stay in his room pouring over the books and reading as much as he could. The only time he showed his face to the Dursley’s was at breakfast and supper times, and they couldn’t be happier.

Finally one late night when he was reading a page from his Curses book he heard a voice.

"Haaaarrrrrry," the echoed voice called.

He sat straight up and reached for his wand, which was lit, and hangings over him suspended in air (a spell he learned). The voice called again.

It sounded like, no it couldn’t be. But, then again…

"Haaaarrrrrry," it called again. And then he was sure of it; it sounded exactly like her, his mum.

"I’m coming," he whispered. But the voice continued to howl his name. By this time he wondered why the Dursley’s weren’t up, surely they heard the voice?

Harry didn’t like this but he had to find out if it was his mum. He stood up and followed the voice to the front door. This is getting weird, he thought to himself. But the voice continued, sounding more urgent with every step he took.

By now he was walking down the street of Privet Drive in his black cloak, he decided to put on, with his Amplus bag on his belt. He was coming to the intersection of Rose and Privet Drive when he saw it, a flash of red eyes. He knew it was too late, and that he was stupid to even follow the voice let alone listen to it.

He turned back and ran as fast as he could, swerving every now and then. But he didn’t notice that the figure wasn’t even trying to follow, or that no curses were being hurtled at him. All he knew was that he had to keep running and get back to the house.

From somewhere behind him Harry heard a soft chanting. It was coming from the exact person he was running from. No matter how far and fast he ran the words seemed to be whispering in his ear, as if the person chanting them was right next to him.

"Muto facina-oris commisceo astringo…."

"Muto facina-oris commisceo astringo…."

The chanting grew quieter and quieter with each line and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. A dark thick cloud swam around him hurting his eyes and knocking out his senses.

That was the last thing Harry heard or saw, until he dropped onto the pavement, unconscious.