Hogwarts Hope

We see a serene aerial view of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We hear a deep, disembodied voice. "In a time of darkness, faith in the light remains."

Music swells. Images flash. A dark-haired, bespectacled teenage boy looks serious for a moment before giving a shy smile. A gangly, freckled boy grins. A frizzy-haired girl raises her hand eagerly, and then lowers it, also smiling. The three of them are shown first bickering, and then participating in a group hug. A white-haired and bearded man looks on benevolently. A stern woman in green robes waves a wand, and a teacup turns into a mouse. A greasy man scowls, and crosses his arms. A blond-haired boy, flanked by two burly fellows, smirks. Several groups are shown, lesser players of the teacher, student, and miscellaneous variety. A scary, snakelike man raises a wand threateningly. Finally, the first three teenagers again, arms flung around each other's shoulders in a show of camaraderie.

The disembodied voice speaks again. "This is Hogwarts Hope."

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Ron knelt in the grass, shaking Harry frantically by the shoulders. "Come on, mate! Wake up!"

He looked up briefly, just in time to notice Hermione grab someone out of the growing crowd of spectators and order him to call for Madam Pomfrey at once. The student dispatched, she came to kneel beside him, biting her bottom lip as she looked down at Harry.

Ron gave Harry another shake, but was stopped when Hermione shrilled, "Don't do that, you could injure him further!"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ron took out his wand. "This should do it," he said as he leveled it at Harry. "Ennervate!"

Harry stirred, and opened his eyes to gaze groggily up at them. He looked as if he might speak, but Hermione spoke up first. "Oh, Harry! We were so worried. Don't move! Help is on the way." With an encouraging smile directed at Harry, she stood up, shooing people who were crowding in too tightly away, and casting quick glances off towards the castle.

Harry stared at her for a long moment. "Who is that girl?" His voice sounded a bit strained. Ron guessed it was from his fall.

"Hermione. You know...a friend of ours. Has been for years. Likes to study. Good for copying homework off of. You must of hit your head harder than we thought if you have to ask."

Harry blinked a few times, and focused on him. Frowning, he said, "Who...who are you?"

Surprised, Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Harry's eyes closed before he could get in a single word.

A shadow fell across the both of them, and a mocking laugh sounded from above. "Has the great Harry Potter forgotten his friends? Really shows how much you're worth, eh, Weasley?"

Ron leapt angrily to his feet, knocking Malfoy to the ground with one blow. He heard Hermione yell his name, but ignored her. He raised his fist again and made a grab for Malfoy, who was scrabbling backwards, trying to stay out of his reach and search for his wand at the same time.

"Mr. Weasley," called the unmistakable voice of the Headmaster. "You do Mr. Potter little good by fighting." Ron turned to see Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey hurrying towards them, trailed by Professor Trelawney of all people.

Madam Pomfrey had her wand out by the time they reached Harry, and she went right to work checking him over. After a moment she looked up, a small frown on her face. "I cannot do anything for him here. We'll need to get him to the Hospital Wing."

As she conjured a magical stretcher and levitated Harry onto it, Dumbledore turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley," he said, his gaze moving to take in Hermione as well, "Ms. Granger. Come with us."

"But, Malfoy!"

"Will be dealt with later. You can tell me all about what happened once we know Mr. Potter is well."

~ HOGWARTS HOPE WILL RETURN AFTER THESE MESSAGES ~

Two stocky, red-haired young men lean casually against the counter of a small shop, mischievous grins on their faces.

"Got a class," began one of them.

"That you desperately need to get out of?" finished the other.

"A professor...."

" - Who needs to be paid back for a detention."

"Or are you just looking for some good, harmless fun?" they asked together.

"Then Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is the place for you!"

Several products are shown in action, with spectacular results.

"So come on down today."

"Customer satisfaction...."

"Guaranteed!"

~ WE NOW RETURN TO HOGWARTS HOPE ~

Sibyll Trelawney shook her head knowingly as she gazed down at the prone form of Harry Potter.

Madam Pomfrey came bustling back to the bedside, nudging Sibyll out of the way as she went about tending to the unconscious boy.

"I regret that I did not foresee this sooner, that it might have been prevented," Sibyll announced in a tremulous voice. She looked off into the distance, and the world seemed to ripple for her as it settled into a flashback.

She stood in the middle of the Astronomy Tower, shaking a crystal ball at a blurry-eyed Professor Sinistra. "There, you see? Look! You can clearly see Pluto falling right out of the sky. My Sight never lies. I suggest you consult your charts at once."

A beam of sunlight refracted through the crystal, directing rainbow light into the nocturnal professor's eyes. Sinistra winced, shielding her eyes. For a moment she merely stood there, eyes squeezed shut, rubbing her temples. When Sinistra finally opened her eyes once more, she had the audacity to glare at her.

"Sibyll. Listen to me. Pluto is not going to fall out of the sky. It can't."

"But...."

"It won't."

"But...."

"It's impossible."

With that, Sinistra turned away from her and stormed back up towards her private quarters. With a sigh, Sibyll turned to go. People often ignored her warnings. It was a fact of life she had grudgingly learned to live with. And Professor Sinistra was one of the worst doubters. Why, she was almost as bad as Professor Snape, especially when she was woken up at one o'clock in the afternoon.

Sibyll couldn't understand what her problem was.

The door slamming caused Sibyll to glance back over her shoulder. Yes, Professor Sinistra did indeed possess a bit of a temper when roused. As Sibyll turned to continue back to her own tower, the view out the window caught her attention.

Some of the students were zipping about on their broomsticks outside. Watching carefully, she thought she saw something glitter briefly, then veer off on some wild course. One of the students shot after it. He swooped and soared, making a good chase, and some of the other fliers even stopped in their pursuit to watch and cheer him on.

Suddenly another student, one she didn't recognize as part of the original game, flew directly for the distracted Seeker. He made no attempt to slow or change direction, and it soon became clear that he intended to collide with the other.

Too late, the first looked up. A split second later, he was hit. He spun out of control, clinging desperately to the broom, trying to steady it, but it was of no use. Losing his grip, he toppled to the ground.

And suddenly, she realized. Harry Potter! No other student could attract such misfortune. She was sure of it.

With a gasp, she ran all the way to Dumbledore's office. Giving the password, she stormed up the staircase and burst into his office with a dramatic, "My Sight tells me that Harry Potter is in danger! As. We. Speak!"

The world rippled once more, returning her to the Hospital Wing, and the present. "You see," she said, tapping her forehead to indicate her Third Eye. "The Sight can be such a burden at times."

Dumbledore patted her kindly on the shoulder. "Indeed, Sibyll, but it is fortunate, and a great comfort to know that you are looking out for us all. You may go back to your tower now, if you like. I know how taxing you find being away for too long."

"Yes," she nodded. "Yes, of course. Thank you. I shall keep an eye on the boy from there." She smiled at Dumbledore, gave the occupant of the bed a sympathetic look, and wandered off.

~ HOGWARTS HOPE WILL RETURN AFTER THESE MESSAGES ~

A middle-aged witch sits behind a desk, a tall stack of purple envelops beside her.

"Do you or someone you love have trouble with magic? Does the simplest spell seem hopelessly beyond your ability? Are you tired of being labeled a Squib, when you know that with just a little extra help, you too could do magic? If you answered yes to any of those questions, your worries can soon be over.

"For years, the Kwikspell correspondence course has been helping frustrated witches and wizards, just like you! Loaded with helpful hints and easy to follow tutorials, you can start seeing results in as few as two lessons!

"Signing up is easy. Simply owl us as 5945 Diagon Alley, London, and within three to five business days, you will receive your first lesson, guaranteed to set you on your way to full wizardhood.

"And with our new, low introductory price of just six galleon, there's no reason not to try. Remember that's 5-9-4-5, Diagon Alley. We're waiting to hear from you."

~ WE NOW RETURN TO HOGWARTS HOPE ~

He regained consciousness slowly. His head was throbbing, and when he tried to open his eyes, his vision swam. He felt dizzy and disorientated.

Blinking helped clear his vision well enough to make out the forms of three people sitting by his...bed. Yes, he was in a bed. In hospital, if the large, sterile room was any indication.

He vaguely recognized the boy and girl who sat closest to him. They were the ones who had spoken to him earlier. He tried to remember what the girl's name had been, but he could not. He didn't think the boy had given his.

The third was a man with long, white beard, and even longer hair. He looked like a wizard. Well yes, of course, he thought dazedly. They were all wizards. He knew that.

"Harry?" the man said.

He looked at the redheaded boy. Harry? That must be his name. Harry...H...H...the girl's name had begun with an H! Hermia?

He noticed Harry and Hermia exchange quick, worried glances. He looked at the older man, and saw that he, too, frowned slightly.

The man leaned towards him, and although the frown had been replaced by a gentle smile, his eyes were intent. "This is very important. Does the name Harry James Potter mean anything to you?"

"No.... Should it?"

~ NEXT TIME, ON HOGWARTS HOPE ~

Thinking quickly, Ron reached out to lay his hand upon Hermione's. She looked down at it in surprise, then over at him, smiling. He smiled back, and relaxed.

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"Young Malfoy must not learn of this." Dumbledore's tone was grave. "I fear what might happen if this information were to fall into the wrong hands."

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Peter flinched as Voldemort looked at him, his expression deadly. "Yes, Wormtail? There is something else you wish to add?"

"N-no, Lord. Nothing. I...." He trailed off, cleared his throat, and made a great show of studying the hem of his robe with single-minded interest.