Harry Potter and the Gift of the Seraphim or Curse of the Stars

Chapter One- Of Enemies and Friends

"Get out of here, boy!" The large man driving the navy BMW screeched to a stop. He exited the drivers seat and slammed the door shut, almost denting the car in. He popped the boot, and grasped a large black trunk by the handles. He threw it on the ground, and yanked open the backseat door. The angry man grabbed the wiry black haired boy who was sitting in the car and almost flung him to the ground. Menacingly, he lowered himself about two inches to look the boy in the eye. "If I don't ever see you again," he said, spitting into the boys face, "It will be far to soon! I don't want to hear a word from you until you're back from your freak show, you hear?" The boy nodded mutely, while scrambling to his feet. The beefy man gave him one last good shove with his side, and got back into the car. Harry quickly grabbed Hedwig from the vehicle and shut the rear door. He watched silently as his Uncle Vernon sped off, the top of the boot bouncing wildly around on the car, as Uncle Vernon had neglected to close it. Harry watched the blue dot become smaller and smaller, until he he could see it no more.

On the other side of the parking lot, a completely different scene was unfolding. Another boy was sitting in his car, but it was a long, sleek limousine. He sat, bored, as he watched his belongings get unloaded from his car and placed onto a cart. He only moved when the door was opened from the outside by a man dressed in a sleek black suit.

"Thank you," the boy said offhandedly in a demeaning tone. He squinted as he stepped out into the sunlight. He followed another man dressed in black who was pushing his cart, loaded with various trunks and bags. As they drew closer to a solid barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten in Kings Cross Station, in London, England, the boy spoke again. "That will be all." He dismissed the older man with an arrogant wave of his hand. As he languidly leaned against his cart, he plastered a smirk on his face.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter," the blonde looked at Harry, who had his back turned to him. He had been pulling his trunk with his owl cage perched on top, but he stopped and turned when he heard Draco Malfoy's voice.

"I wish I could say it was a pleasure," Harry said, turning once again to his trunk.

"Why so rude, Potter?" Draco bent over. "Is the Boy-Who-Lived still smarting about Dead Diggory?" he asked in a whisper.

Harry instantly turned, knocking Malfoy off his feet. "Don't ever talk like that to me again," he ordered. He had drawn his wand, and was pointing it threateningly.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Malfoy looked around worriedly at the crowds of people milling around the station. He tried not to look nervous at his situation, but found it harder for his emotion not to show in his face. "You're in a station full of Muggles!"

Harry considered this, and drew back his wand. "Don't bother me, Malfoy. Remember our train ride last year?" He turned, and pulling his things, he disappeared through the brick barrier. As platform Nine and Three-Quarters materialized in front of him, he cautiously looked around. Seemingly satisfied, he stuck his wand back in the pocket of his oversized hand-me-down jeans. He wandered down to a empty carriage near the middle of the train and stowed his luggage underneath, then he took his owl to the carrying compartment. He didn't board the train himself, however. Instead, he went to the wall to stake out on a bench until his friends arrived.

Harry sighed as he noticed people giving him a wide berth. I still can't believe people trusted all that rubbish in the Daily Prophet! Even without Rita Skeeter being the head cheerleader for all the false propaganda against Harry, it was still running strong, apparently.

About three months before, Harry had won the Tri-Wizard Tournament, as the second Hogwarts champion. When he and the other Hogwarts representative touched the winning cup in the last task, they had been transported to a meeting with Voldemort. Cedric had been immediately killed, but Harry had witnessed the rebirth of Lord Voldemort who had used his blood. He then dueled with him and managed to escape, by breaking the connection their wands had formed, and grabbing the cup, using it as a portkey to return to Hogwarts grounds. The blustering Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and refused to believe Harry or the Headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore. He blindly refused to see the facts, insisting Harry was lying and implying Dumbledore was a fool. In doing so, he had left most of the wizarding world in ignorance, while the threat of Voldemort, the most feared Dark Wizard of this century, loomed large.

Harry was lost in his thoughts when someone started to shake him. Startled, he shoved the person away, and grabbed their hands tightly.

"Harry," Ron said painfully, "What in the world are you doing?" Realizing it was one of his best friends, Harry quickly released Ron from his death grip. He looked at his red haired friend nursing his wrists, and he flushed a lobster red. "Geeze, Harry, you've got quite a grip! Rather touchy, but strong all the same!" Ron smiled to let him know there were no hard feelings.

"Sorry, Ron. I've just been on my guard lately," Harry apologized. He was then hit from the back, and wrapped around the middle by two very tan arms. "Hermione!" he cried, turning around and returning the hug. She looked up into Harry's green eyes. "Oh, Harry! I've been so worried! When Dumbledore couldn't let you go to Ron's, we almost came to get you ourselves!" She smiled up at her best friend, who was at least three inches taller than her petite 5" 3' frame.

"It's nice to know I'm loved too," said Ron, looking extremely annoyed. Hermione smiled again and gave Ron a shorter, but equally warm hug. She also greeted the rest of the Weasleys, who were standing a short distance away.

After all the pleasantries had been exchanged, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ron's younger sister Ginny all put their stuff with Harry's, and boarded the train after receiving a hug and a peck on the cheek from Mrs. Weasley. She was tearing, but still managed to warn her two twin sons, who were boarding further down the train, that "She better not get any owl this year about either of you turning people into beetles!"

Fred grinned and said, "Of course not, Mum. But, really, beetles? We've never done that." He grinned and turned to his identical brother, George, and Mrs. Weasley was almost sure she heard his whispering something along the lines of "Buggy Broccoli..."

In their plush carriage, four teenagers sat quietly. The train lurched to a start, and stream started puffing from the smokestack. Harry was idly drawing pictures in the steam on the window, and Ron was staring at Hermione with a glazed over expression. Hermione, in turn, looked as if she was studying Harry, and Ginny was listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network on her enchanted Muggle headphones. The faint strums of her song produced the only sound in the compartment.

Suddenly, four voices all spoke at the exact same moment.

"Harry-"

"Hermione-"

"Did-"

"Talk!"

The four friends laughed uneasily. Then, Harry resumed his sketching, and Ron sighed and sat back in his chair again. Ginny reluctantly picked up her headphones again, but Hermione continued to speak.

"Why are we so nervous around each other?" she asked out loud. "Three of us are best friends, and two of us are related! We should be chatting away about our wonderful summers, damnit!"

Startled, Ron looked up. "Hermione," he said in awe. "You swore!"

Hermione flushed. "So? It really is ridiculous!" She looked at her companions. "Come on! Please talk."

"Er-" Ron started off awkwardly. "So, Hermione. How was Krum?"

"What?" asked Hermione, her brown eyes flashing dangerously.

"Um...Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"For your information, Ronald," Hermione stated, "I did not go visit Krum. If you just would have asked in your letters, you would have known that. He had to withdraw his invitation, in any matter, because they had added extra quidditch training this summer. He said it wouldn't have been fair to me, we would have never seen each other."

Ron, properly chagrined, speechlessly nodded and sank back into a stupor. Ginny let out a sigh of exasperation and threw her headphones on the ground. The vocals of Craig David, a popular Muggle English singer, filled the otherwise quiet carriage.

"For Merlin's sake! Hermione's right. Say something already!" She waited. Nothing happened. "Fine," she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I'll start. So, Hermione, how was your summer?"

Hermione was still glaring daggers at Ron. "It was okay," she said, finally turning to Ginny who was sitting on her left. "I wrote to you and your twit of a brother, read, completed my homework and visited the shore."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Ron.

"Knew what?" Hermione asked dangerously. Ron was apparently still gliding on thin ice.

Ron was oblivious of his delicate standings with Hermione. "I had a bet with George and Fred!" he said exuberantly. "They owe me 2 galleons!"

"And what was this bet about?"

Ron foolishly ignored Ginny's waving hands and her mouthing "no." "We bet you wouldn't become a prefect!"

"I wouldn't become one, is that right?" Ron also ignored Hermione's furious glare. "Well, you owe them two galleons." Hermione stuck her hand in her pocket, and pulled it back out holding a glinting silver badge. "I am a prefect!" She announced. Ron looked like a fish, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

Ginny smiled happily. "That's wonderful, Hermione. What about you, Harry?"

Harry looked up. "Well...Not much I guess. A lot of work from the Dursleys. Not too much else."

"C'mon, Harry," Ron prodded his friend. "I know other things happened! What about Sirius-" he abruptly stopped, realizing too late what he had said.

"Sirius?" Ginny asked keenly. "As in Sirius Black? Has he been caught?"

Harry shot a look of venom at Ron. "No, he hasn't," he said shortly. Nevertheless, Ginny's interest was still piqued.

"Well, whatever happened to him?" Her look of curiosity had been replaced by worry. "I mean, couldn't he hurt you, Harry?"

Harry exhaled loudly. "He'smygodfather," he mumbled.

"He's your what?" cried Ginny, obviously understanding his garble. "Godfather." He looked around. "But, quiet about it!" He looked outside into the corridor."I'll explain."

And so, for the fourty-five minutes, Ginny heard the story of the trio's third year in quiet installments from Harry, with occasional interjections from Ron, ("I stood up on my broken leg!"), and Hermione, ("After vast amounts studying, I figured out Professor Lupin's secret...").

At the conclusion of the story, Ginny sat back into her seat and let out a low whistle. "Wow," she said. 'I know something had happened. You were all completely buggered out afterwards. I just never guessed..."

"Yeah," Harry said. He listlessly picked up her discarded headphones and proceeded to examine their fascinating black color.

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, "What's wrong?"

Harry blushed. "Nothing," he said.

"Oh, it's something," Hermione pressed on. "You're probably going to kill me for saying it in front of everyone, but I have to do it!" Harry tried uselessly to stop her. He should have known that Hermione would figure it out. "You look so pale and skinny! You've always been small, but now you look almost starved. And you have bruises! All summer, we've written you and only received about 2 replies, and those were even in the beginning of the summer. Did you even get our presents? Harry, what's wrong?"

Embarrassed, Ron said, "If you can't tell us, Harry, who can you tell?"

A very red faced Harry hid his face in his hands. "You guys don't need to know. I'm fine, really! Besides," he voice dropped to a whisper. "I wouldn't want you to be burdened with it anyway."

"Oh, Harry!" Ginny cried. "We don't just want to know, we need to know! We really care about you, don't you know that?"

Harry choked back a sob. Don't cry, don't cry, he urged himself. They don't need to know! But, he found himself talking. "Well, this summer I got back and everything was normal. The Dursleys ignored me, but that's the usual. Then," he stopped, almost unable to continue. Hermione gently patted his arm.

"Go on," she coaxed.

"Then, I guess they got a letter from Dumbledore," Harry started again. "It was an okay letter, I saw it when it came through the Muggle post. Extremely normal, just the way they like it. What they didn't like was the letter itself, I suppose." Bitterly, he said, 'I wouldn't know, I never got to read it." He took a deep breath, but he remained turned away from his friends. "After he read it, Aunt Petunia started to cry. Vernon," Harry purposely left off the title, "ran straight to my room and barged open the door. That where I go this bruise," he lifted his sleeve to show them the brownish tinge underneath his skin on his left arm. "the doorknob hit me when the door swung open. Anyway, he called me- He called me a murderer," Harry finished in a rush. At this, Ginny jumped up and threw her arms around Harry. For a moment, he let himself relax in her tender, impulsive embrace. He felt a tingle go through his body, and felt as though he was experiencing complete bliss. Just as quickly as it came, however, the feeling abruptly left, and suddenly everything was black. Ginny screamed in shock and hastily let Harry go as she felt him go cold and clammy. She watched in horror as he slumped from the chair onto the floor of the compartment. Ron stared in fright as his best friend's wan complexion lost even more color. Angrily, he turned to Ginny. "What did you do?" he accused. She just shook her head voicelessly, staring at Harry's limp body. Hermione was the first to regain her senses and bent down next to her seemingly lifeless friend. Ron and Ginny watched as she put her fingers to the inside of Harry's wrist. In a choked voice, she announced, "He has no pulse."

For the second time, Ginny let out a small scream. Then, she also slumped to the floor of the carriage in a dead faint.

Continued....