Harry Potter and the Runes of Slytherin

Chapter 1

He was walking down a long corridor, toward a door at the end. It swung open as he neared it, letting him into a circular room walled with doors. He strode purposefully up to it and opened it, revealing an amphitheatre, with the seats leading down to a stone dais upon which stood an archway, a dirty tattered sheet hanging over it, obscuring the entrance. There were people fighting all around him. A man with a flat face and red eyes with slits for pupils aimed his wand at a pretty red haired woman.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The woman fell to the floor, became a man with untidy black hair, then changed again to become a man with longer, more elegant black hair, who hit the floor and lay, spread eagled, with his eyes wide and staring. The flat-faced man raised his wand and pointed it at him. "Avada Keda-"

"NO!" Harry Potter sat up in bed his hand grasping a wand that had been under his pillows moments before. He pointed the wind wildly around the room, squinting his eyes in the dark. His breathing slowed as he realized where he was, and rested his head on the wall behind his bed, closing his eyes, wand still in his hand. It was just a dream, that was all, just a dream. In the room down the hall he heard Uncle Vernon give a snort, and roll over in bed.

He was not in the Department of Mysteries. He was no where near the Ministry of Magic, he was safe in Number 4, Privet Drive, that fight had happened months ago, his parents had died fifteen years ago and Sirius-

Sirius is dead, Harry told himself for the thousandth time, and for the thousandth time he could not believe it. He cast a quick glance at the clock beside his bed it flashed 6:32 in green numbers. There would be no more sleep for him that morning. He got up, flicking on the light of his room, dressed himself and hastily stuck his wand in his back pocket. Then remembering what a certain Auror had told him ("Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, boy! Elementary wand safety. . .") he thought better of it and stowed his wand in the waist band of his jeans.

What to do? He had at the very least another forty-five minutes before the Dursley's woke up. First things first. He walked over to his calendar and marked another red X on it; one more day and he'd be with the Weasleys, at the Burrow. So it hadn't been in time for his birthday, well, they'd only missed it by a few days and had promised him a celebration when he arrived at the Burrow, and even if they still couldn't tell him much in their letters, this was the earliest he'd ever left the Dursely's house. One more year, Harry thought, one more yearhere, and then I'll never have to come back. Never!

With this thought in mind, he opened his window, and looked out hopefully for Hedwig, who was off delivering a letter to Ron. But the sky was gray, cloudy, and Hedwig-free. But, there was something in the sky. . .what was it? It looked a bit like a shimmering in the sky, a horizontal band of. . .shimmering. What. . .? Harry leaned out of his window and squinted at it. It looked a bit like movies he'd seen of the atom bomb explosions when he'd been in primary school. Same shimmering, same force moving outward. But it couldn't be. If it was he'd already been dead. Wouldn't he? It had been a while since he'd last taken a Muggle science class.

All of a sudden there was a sort of sonic boom, and the house shook violently. Harry was thrown to the floor, his books slid off his bed and Hedwig's empty cage landed on top of him. Several loud thumps from the adjoining rooms told him Uncle Vernon and Dudley had fallen out of bed. Continued snores told him that had not woken up his relatives. Getting up, wand in his hand again, Harry crept over to the window and peered out of it.

Everything seemed. . .normal. The sun was still hovering just out of sight, no lights were on in any of the houses in Privet Drive, and the light seemed to be gone. What the hell? An attack, maybe. But who's close enough that I could feel it? On the other hand distance was often warped in the magical world, but- Harry shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. If anything had happened he wouldn't be able to find out till tomorrow, if the Order saw fit to tell him, that was.

The rest of the day passed more or less uneventfully. Harry finished his summer holiday homework and managed to go more or less unnoticed by the Dursleys at mealtimes. Dudley had been kicked off the school boxing team after sending another student to the hospital in critical condition, but was now on Smeltings' rugby team. Not much better in Harry's view, although Dudley's opinion of him had so worsened - if that was possible - since last summer that he now did not even speak to Harry, not even to taunt him, and only occasionally shot him glances of fear out of his piggy eyes.

In fact, he managed to stay out of the Dursleys way so well that it wasn't until a large barred owl tried to fly in the open window that Uncle Vernon started yelling at him. "BOY! I DON"T CARE IF YOUR ENTIRE BLOODY WORLD IS BEING BLOWN TO BITS BY MOLDYWART BUT I WILL -- NOT- HAVE - RUDDY - OWLS IN MY RUDDY HOUSE!"

"Vernon, please, the windows are open," begged Aunt Petunia.

Dudley stood gripping the owl by its feet staring maliciously into it's eyes, as it tried to peck him, hooting angrily. Harry rescued the owl, apologized to his aunt and uncle and escaped back to his room. It's my Hogwarts letter, he thought, it's finally come. It'll have my OWL scores. His OWL scores. They had been worrying him all summer. The only thing Harry had ever really contemplated being when he left Hogwarts was an Auror, but to become one it was necessary to have exceptionally high OWL scores, and a number of NEWT's.

Breathing heavily he slit open the envelope. Inside were two smaller envelopes, one with the Ministry of Magic's seal on it. His OWL's.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Enclosed are your scores on the Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, which you performed last May. We apologize for the lateness of this letter, which is due to discrepancies among the graders of your examinations.

Best wishes,

Trafila Hopkirk

Department of Examinations

Apparently the Hopkirks had quite a hold on jobs at the Ministry. Harry vaguely remember Mr. Weasley complaining about it once. He shook the small envelope and out fell a slip of paper.

Ordinary Wizarding Levels

Harry Potter

Gryffindor House

Charms: EE

A. Flitwick

Transfiguration: O

M. Mcgonagall

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

D.Umbridge

Potions: O

S. Snape

Care of Magical Creatures: O

R. Hagrid

Herbology: EE

B. Sprout

Astronomy: A

V. Sinistra

History of Magic: P

G. Binns

Divination: P

S. Trelawney

Well, not bad Potter, he thought, not bad at all. He had known he was never going to pass Divination, or History of Magic, and truth to tell, he wasn't all that fussed. In fact, it would be a relief to never have to go to divination again. Never to have Professor Trelawney predict his demise, never fall asleep in that stifling heat of the North Tower, and as for Binns' class, well, he'd had a suspicion that it was turning his brain slowly into mush.

But an O in potions! How had he managed that? Had Professor Mcgonagall stepped in, perhaps? Last year she had shouted at Professor Umbridge that she would help Harry become an Auror no matter what it took. An Auror needed and NEWT in potions. And to get into an NEWT class, one had to get an O in potions. But surely Mcgonagall, a stickler for rules, would not do anything of the sort.

The only conclusion Harry could come to, was that he had managed an O on his own, and that Snape had definitely not graded Harry's potion. Snape wouldn't give Harry an O if his (Snape's) life depended on it.

Turning his attention to the second envelope, Harry opened it. Inside was the usual list of things to get for Hogwarts which he studied carefully until he found the book for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps that would give some indication of who his new teacher would be. There it was- Defensive Spells and Hexes, by Har Sonend. Well, whoever had assigned it had to be better than Umbridge. They certainly couldn't be worse, and it seemed as though they meant business.

Another letter was folded inside the list of things. Curious, Harry unfolded it.

Dear Mr. Potter,

As it is known, danger is growing. The return of He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named puts us all in peril unlike anything we have seen in fifteen years. Because of this, administrators at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in cooperation with officials from the Ministry of Magic, have seen fit to appoint twice the number of school prefects. These new prefects' duties will extend to such things as protecting other students in the halls, and in case of any emergency the prefects will attend instructions from the staff of the school, and may be required to aid them in specified tasks.

If you do not wish the extra duties of prefect please send a note back with the owl you receive this letter with immediately.

Looking forward to September the first,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

And out of the letter fell a scarlet prefect's badge.

Harry stared. It was not possible. It was not. And yet there sat the badge in his hand, as solid as anything. After Harry's turmoil and jealousy last year, when he had not gotten the badge and Ron had, this seemed a calculated strike at his pride. He did not really care about being prefect anymore. Not really. And yet. . .a flicker of happiness fluttered inside Harry as he looked at the badge.

Of course, the Slytherins would no doubt have much to say of the matter; he could picture them now. . ."Wee Potty wanted a badge just like his mummy, and they felt sorry for him. . ." "Everyone knows Potter's Dumbledore's lapdog, so Dumbledore made it up to give it to him. . ." "He's not a real prefect, of course. . ." But if there were two more from each House, then Slytherin would have two more as well.

He could see Hermione smiling happily, Ron shaking his hand, Mrs. Weasley's proud face, Fred and George's looks of disgust. . . Harry grinned. At least they'd all be on equal footing this year. Not that Ron and Hermione had ever said or done anything to exercise what power they had as prefects against him, but still. It was nice to know they couldn't, even if they wanted to.

The only thing that could have made him happier was if Hedwig had been back. Or if his parents could know. Or if Sirius. . . That was certainly thinking in the wrong direction, and Harry shoved that thought down ruthlessly.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," said Harry.

"Come out where I can talk to you, boy." It was Aunt Petunia.

Harry sighed. When he opened the door he was a little surprised. Aunt Petunia was there sure enough, but it was not the hard-faced Aunt Petunia, ready to berate him for tracking mud into the house that he had expected. She stood looking a little pensive, and glancing over her shoulders from time to time, as though she expected someone to come up any minute and ask her what she thought she was doing talking to her nephew.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" asked Harry.

She gave a little jump, and stared at him a moment as though she had forgotten he was there. "Oh!" she said, and then she shook her head as if to clear it. "Yes, well, er, Harry," she said, "I've got a letter for you."

"Oh?" said Harry, completely nonplussed.

"Yes," she said.

He stood there a moment, waiting and said finally, "Well, can I have it then?"

"Yes of course, the thing is, the thing is Harry," and she glanced nervously at his wand in his waistband, "it's from, it's from," her mouth gave a little twist, and then she said, "it's from -- my sister."

Harry was silent. Either she was out of her mind (unsurprising, if she'd finally taken a good look at her family) or she was keeping something from him. "From my mum?" He said slowly.

"Yes," she said simply. "It arrived the normal way, a few weeks after you did," by normal she meant by post, "with instructions on when to give it to you."

"She, she said to give it to me now did she?" His pulse was throbbing. A letter from his mother. Something she had held, something she had written in his hands!

"Well, no, Harry. She said to give it to you on your birthday."

"That's not so far off then." Harry forced a smile, but his mind was screaming, give it to me! Give me the letter!

"Er, your, er, thirteenth birthday Harry." Aunt Petunia looked uncharacteristically nervous.

"Well, that's al- Hang on. Did you say my thirteenth birthday?" She nodded. "And you've kept it from me for three years?" he snarled at her. She nodded again. "Give it to me!" he said, "Give it to me!"

His shout seemed to remind her that she was the mistress of this house and would not be shouted at. "Harry!" she said sharply. "Well, it wasn't as though you really needed it, just sentimental nonsense, but not a word to me her only sister oh no. . ." Harry had only seen a torrent of words like this from Aunt Petunia once before, on the night Hagrid had shown up and told him he was a wizard. ". . .me she just sends a baby to, no explanations, no thank you, no please, no word from her for years, and then I get landed with you." Her face was twisted up in hatred and anger, "and now you're being attacked by dementors and Voldemort and I am required to put up with you or my family will be blown to pieces!"

"I'm sure Dumbledore would never, he wouldn't," Harry protested, "And even if it is sentimental nonsense, I- Wait. You read it? You read my letter? YOU READ -- ?" He was trembling with anger now. He pointed his wand at her (when had he drawn it?) and said slowly, "Give me my letter."

His words produced a sort of déjà vu effect. . . he was eleven and Uncle Vernon held his letter his only letter, the only one he had ever gotten, ever, and he wanted it. . . "GIVE ME MY LETTER!" He snatched it from her and slammed the door to his room in her face. He heard her sniff loudly on the other side, evidently she had regained her composure, and listened until her footsteps had died away.

He sat on his bed and switched on his light, moving his Hogwarts letters to his bedside table. Breathing fast he slipped the letter out of the envelope.

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this then I have passed on. Since I am not there to be with you I just want you to know that I love you. I always have and I always will. I am sorry I will not be with you to see your growing up, to help you, to hold you, but always remember that I love you, as does your father.

I have some important things to tell you. I wish I could be there to tell you in person, but as I cannot -- I want you to know certain things that I did not believe should have been told to you before this. There is a prophecy concerning you and Voldemort. I will not repeat it word for word, you may ask Albus Dumbledore, but it says that one of you must kill the other eventually. I am sorry that this burden rests on you, Harry, but believe me it is true. There was some doubt that it was you the prophecy concerns, but if you are reading this than there is no doubt at all. I am sorry, Harry. I love you.

We do not know how to defeat Lord Voldemort, so I am afraid I cannot help you there, but Love is the key Harry. There isn't much time now, but ask Dumbledore for the prophecy, and the second one as well. Tell Sirius it wasn't James, and tell Remus I was the one that told Andromeda. Tell him I'm sorry.

I love you Harry. More than anything.

Love,

Mum

Lily Potter

PS Happy thirteenth Birthday.

Harry thought, The second one as well? What does that mean? What wasn't James? Who is Andromeda? She loves me.

And then for the first time in a long time, Harry Potter sank his head into his hands and cried. The prefect's badge winked at him from his bedside table, as Hedwig flew in the open window, a letter in her beak.

O = Outstanding

EE = Exceeds Expectations

A= Acceptable

P = Poor

D = Dreadful

An A or above is required to obtain an OWL in that course. Please be aware that some courses only accept students at an NEWT level if they received an Outstanding on their OWLs.