Harry Potter and the War of Two Worlds

CHAPTER 1

Harry's Premonition

"Son Coeur est un luth suspendu

Sit_t qu'on le touché il rèsonne."

The dark clouds hovered over the inhabitants of Privet Drive. Every identical house stood in the shadows of this threatening sky. Night had already passed over this dark suburb and, as it lay in the early hours of morning, only one light illuminated any part of the street. This small light strewn from a tiny window belonged to a young boy. This teen went by the name of Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived.

To most, Harry looked like a normal teenage boy, although probably in dire need of new clothes. But to another sort of people, Harry's name was legendary. As was the name of the sorcerer who made it that way. Harry Potter was not like the average schoolboy. He couldn't even be considered a normal wizard, if there could be such a thing.

Harry Potter was famous for being the only wizard ever to survive the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra. What made it more extraordinary was the fact that this Killing Curse was dispensed by none other than the most powerful Dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort (more commonly referred to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named). This same wizard, while practically destroyed by a small infant, also murdered Harry's parents, Lily and James Potter. Harry had grown up with his aunt and uncle, although begrudged by both parties, and believing his parents had been killed in a tragic car crash. But, on Harry's eleventh birthday, he received news of the world of magic. Not only that, but Harry was a wizard and he would attend a school of witches and wizards just like him.

Throughout his years of attending Hogwarts, Harry had had his share of perilous excursions. In Harry's most recent year, Harry managed to survive O.W.L.'s, Occlumency, dreams of hallways and Lord Voldemort, and an unbearable Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from the Ministry. Not to mention the degrading reports in the Daily Prophet criticizing Harry for his "crazy notion" that Voldemort had returned. But at the end of that year, he confronted several Death Eaters, along with his friends, in order to save Sirius from the Dark Lord. This, however, had been a trap, ultimately causing the death of his godfather by means of an archway, and the imprisonment of the Death Eaters present. In addition, Harry witnessed a duel between Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort himself.

Harry had returned to Privet Drive still devastated by the loss of his godfather, Sirius Black. His hunger for knowledge about the mysterious veil through which Sirius fell was always in the back of his mind. It ventured forward as Harry read texts covering anything on the mysteries of death, but it was never satisfied. This longing also sparked another change in Harry's way of life. As a way to clear his mind, he ran in the foggy first lights of daybreak on Privet Drive, unnoticed by his nosy neighbors who were always curious for a tidbit of gossip about the juvenile delinquent living with the Dursleys. This was how Harry liked it, alone and undisturbed. A worry-free moment of this nature was very rare in the life of a famous wizard threatened by the likes of Lord Voldemort, and therefore, it was appreciated greatly. What was also appreciated was the change in Harry's outwardly appearance, gradually shedding his gawky contour and receiving something of a more mature stature.

Even Dudley, his corpulent and menacing cousin, noted the change and had avoided any conflict with Harry that he had, in previous years, fully enjoyed. Any supposition that this change caused Harry any concern was completely false. On the contrary, Harry appreciated this newly received ability to impose on Dudley the fear his dreadful cousin had inflicted upon Harry for all those years.

Even Harry's aunt and uncle had undergone a change in their demeanor towards Harry. While Uncle Vernon settled for glaring and grumbling in his displeasure, which was a large improvement from the previous summers, Aunt Petunia was peculiarly tolerable, and in some cases, one could even be so bold as to call it amiability. Harry, however, did not consider these changes ones of the family's own accord, basing this assumption on the fact that, upon returning to King's Cross after his fifth year at Hogwarts, he and the Dursleys were escorted by a number of odd looking wizards and witches, each with threats if Harry were to be mistreated. Harry doubted any of the Dursleys wished to suffer consequences given to them by "Harry's kind". Either way, these changes made for a much more endurable summer.

Harry also enjoyed the rewards of having such diligent correspondents as friends. Hedwig, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Her nightly flights from the Burrow and the rest of England to Privet Drive had taken a toll on the poor bird. Harry, noticing Hedwig's fatigue, decided to give her a night of rest. Hedwig, grateful for this respite, slept the entire day, leaving Harry in peace to finish reading his letters, including an extensive description of Hermione's O.W.L. results. Harry felt a sense of comfort in these letters. Even Lavender and Parvati had written letters to Harry that, while full of only shallow talk and friendly tête-à-tête, made Harry's summer elapse with a little more pace. Not much, however, to Harry's dismay.

For the past few weeks, Harry had kept his mind busy with keeping in touch with his school friends and trying to finish all of his summer essays he was given. He had successfully completed many of them, but his Potions essay was left untouched, presumably because the thought of Potions carried with it the contemplation of Professor Snape, who has received Harry's extreme distaste ever since his first year at Hogwarts. Not to be outdone, Severus Snape had taken to demonstrating his abhorrence of Harry during his classes. Harry had noticed that each year, this display had gotten worse, so worse that Harry had come to expect it each time he set foot into the dungeon classroom. In fact, if Snape did not publicly degrade Harry's class work or present him with a horrid grade on an essay for misspelling a word, Harry would think something was terribly wrong.

All in all, this "letter writing, homework" routine served Harry very well during his waking hours at Privet Drive, but his nights were far less desirable. Unprotected by distractions of coursework or letters, his mind was left to wander into thoughts Harry dreaded to return to. Despite his hardest efforts, his sleeps were laden with dreams, or rather nightmares, of Cedric Diggory's lifeless body, screams of pain and torture, his godfather's death, and an all too familiar, high-pitched voice. His scar commonly awakened the young wizard searing with pain. After these nighttime images, Harry constantly wished he had listened more intently during Professor Snape's Occlumency lessons. With the impending knowledge of Harry and Lord Voldemont's prophecy, Harry especially longed for the ability to clear his mind of this new tiding. Just a few weeks ago, Harry was in Professor Dumbledore's office, listening numbly to the revelation of a prophecy linking Harry and Lord Voldemort, foretelling that the fate of the world was held in Harry's hands. Only one of them can live. Put simply, Harry must kill or be killed. He had not told anyone else of this prophecy, including his closest friends. The weight of it was almost insufferable, but Harry did not want his best friends to share this burden. As he saw it, he had already caused enough harm.

As the sun began to spread its warm glow over the horizon, dissipating the dark clouds throughout the newly golden sky, Harry Potter put the finishing touches on his lengthy Transfiguration essay. He had decided to forego sleep that night in an effort to escape, for a moment, the endless pain of his nightmares. Tired as he was, Harry decided red eyes and an exhausted hand was worth his clear mind.

As the young wizard turned to restore his transfiguration text to its summer home, a movement outside his window caught Harry's emerald green eyes. His transfiguration book fell forgotten to the ground as Harry got up to investigate this commotion. A familiar rustle of wings outside the small pane of glass, Harry soon found out, belonged to a sleek black owl a bit larger than Hedwig. Harry could not recognize this species of owl, but he pushed that issue aside at the sight of a bulky letter. Harry reached out and grasped the letter tied to the impressive bird's leg. He noticed the Hogwarts seal on the envelope before he tore the sachet open. He pulled out the parchment with anticipation and apprehension both fighting for his full emotion. In the end, anticipation and excitement won as he scanned the letter for his O.W.L. results.

To Mister Potter:

We are pleased to announce that you have completed your Ordinary Wizarding Levels and are...

Harry skimmed through the exposition of the post until he reached the beginning of his O.W.L. results. Harry shut his eyes, thinking about the requirements Professor McGonagall listed in order to train to become an Auror, the only career Harry had ever considered. After a few moments of prayers for success not directed towards anyone in particular, Potter opened his eyes and absorbed his results.

Harry was overjoyed to find that he had received Outstanding's in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures (He just couldn't picture Hagrid giving him any less anyway). He was happy to receive an E in Herbology. He was not surprised, however, to see his History of Magic score less than satisfactory; a D, no less. Hermione will be so displeased! Harry chuckled to himself nervously as he continued to read. Astronomy was not one of Harry's favorite subjects as it is far too tedious for his liking, and yet he had received an A. Not too bad! Harry congratulated himself silently while he continued to peruse. He was more than shocked to see that he had scraped an unmistakable A for Divination. In the back of his mind, he figured someone had to have had more than a little influence on this grade because of his circumstances during the time of the examinations. Then, Harry began to read the grade he had both most anticipated and most dreaded.

Resulting from the Potions Examinations, we are pleased to announce that you have received an Outstanding grade.

Harry rubbed his eyes and reread this section once more to be sure he had not misread his grade. I can't believe this! Harry sat down on his bed in shock. How did I get an O in Potions? Although still in a state of disbelief, Harry managed to resume his reading.

Overall, you, Harry Potter, have received a total of 8 O.W.L.'s. Please complete the course selection chart included in this packet and return it to Hogwarts immediately.

Harry placed the paper down on his desk and picked up the included course selection and wrote in all of the classes required for Auror training, as he had hoped he would be able to earlier that year.

1. Defense against the Dark Arts 3. Charms 5. .

2. Transfiguration 4. Potions 6. .

As Harry looked, he noticed two empty class selections. Am I supposed to fill those out? But Professor McGonagall only specified four classes required for an Auror. Harry had just begun considering the rest of his courses when a familiar, excited little owl flew chaotically through Harry's open window and began zooming around the room, hooting eagerly. Hedwig, awakened by the incessant bird, gave Pigwidgeon a menacing look through the bars of her cage. Harry recognized the tiny owl as the Weasley's. He quickly grabbed the letter tied to the small owl's leg and tore it open, hoping to hear Ron's results and his course choices. Meanwhile, the owl hooted delightedly and continued to fly around Hedwig's cage, to the aggravation of the snowy owl.

Harry began to read the post aloud, feeling the need for companionship after being shut in his room alone for many hours, and appreciating the owls as substitutes for friends.

"Dear Harry, have you got your O.W.L.'s yet? Mum was so excited before I even opened the envelope. A nutter if I ever saw one! Anyway I got seven. How many did you get? I'm sure you've heard about Hermione's results. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd sent them out to everyone she's ever bloody met!" Harry had to laugh at this point. He couldn't help but picture everyone and their mothers receiving Hermione's O.W.L. grades. "I almost forgot! Mum said Dumbledore has agreed to let you come stay with all of us at the "place where you were last year" if you know what I mean! Mum says we can't say much in letters so I think that's the best I can do. I think you'll be able to figure it out. You're not as daft as you look!" Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend's unique humor, although he figured he should be used to it by know. "You know I'm just kidding, Harry! Yea, well I've got to go help Ginny degnome that bloody garden. Write back soon, okay? And I'll see you! Your friend, Ron".

Harry smiled as he set the letter down and began to reply to his friends post. He included his scores and finished it off with an excited response to his upcoming visit. Harry sealed the parchment and signaled the Weasley's owl. As it flew out over Privet Drive, past the rows and rows of houses towards the Burrow, Harry brimmed with excitement. After two long weeks at the Dursley's, being forced to study the Muggle news once again, and hungry for anything that might point to Voldemort yet undetectable to a non-magical person, finally, Harry will be back with his own kind. He would be able to see his friends and the only family he has ever known.

Then suddenly, as if someone had punched him in the stomach, Harry's excitement deflated and he slumped down into his desk chair as an overwhelming feeling of sorrow washed over him. Harry had realized that he would be returning to the home of his godfather, and somehow, Harry knew he was not ready. He couldn't return to the place he had thought he would spend the rest of his summers. He could not face Professor Lupin and the rest of the Order. It's my fault Sirius is dead. I can't go back. It's entirely my fault.

As these thoughts Harry had tried so hard to keep away came rushing back, tears welled up and began streaming down his cheeks. And for the first time this summer, Harry did not try to hide his grief.

Time passed quickly as Harry's broken heart ached for his beloved godfather. As Harry's emotions drained him, exhausted, he fell into a dark sleep atop the parchments and schoolbooks scattered on his bed.

Harry found himself in a dark clearing. He looked around, trying to examine this mysterious place. Soon, others joined him. As Harry glanced from side to side, he noticed someone very familiar, and then another. Then, his eyes rested on a blond man who, despite the appearance of tired lines on the man's face, was unmistakable.

Mr. Malfoy, joined by others whom Harry recognized only by their pictures in past issues of the Daily Prophet, seemed to be looking for something. Soon, Harry could reason that they had found it. Harry looked in the direction the Death Eaters were gazing intently and spied a group of witches and wizards running haphazardly in all directions. In an instant, flashes of green light illumined the darkened alleyway and Harry, in horror, realized where he and the Death Eaters around him stood. They were escaping from Azkaban....