Foreign Prophecy

Prologue:

The night was warmer than usual. Peru was known for its balmy, humid nights. This night, however, was hot. Not because of the hint of rain but of fire and death. A girl watched with terror as her home burnt before her. The cries of her trapped family echoing inside her brain, knowing she was unable to help. The tears that fell from her eyes were painful-acidic. She started when suddenly numbers of wizards and witches apparated around her. They told her everything would be all right. Her Aunt will look after to her now. She nodded; too distressed to understand, only that she was now alone.

3 months later

Leia Colhen made her way down the paths of the Andes Mountains. The ancient roads leading to ruined temples, testaments to their former glory. She sighed as she gazed at the stones and old buildings. Every stone reminding her of sometime before "that Night".

Leia, a sixteen-year witch, sat on the grass and watched as lamas grazed among the mountaintops. Again sighing, knowing all the work she was loaded with, took out her wand and amused herself by transfiguring the grass that was currently in the mouth of an unsuspecting lama, into a pile of daisies. The lama gave a reproachful look. "Sorry," she muttered and she changed the flowers back to its original form.

Glancing at her watch she noticed it was close to lunchtime. She felt her stomach grumble and she wondered what her Aunt Christina was cooking. Placing her wand inside her pocket and picking up her bag she made her way down the mountain to her aunt's house. The town of Mezitu was small but lively. She passed a few of her friends but didn't stop to chat.

She reached her aunt's house but the sight of it stopped her in her tracks. Again it had happened. The blue sky was darkened with smoke. Her house was burning. Again. Leia shook her head disbelievingly. The smoke caused her cough violently and she realised that the local Muggle firefighters had come to put out the fire. Leia was the only one to notice the people beside the tomato plants that had appeared from nowhere. Docha, a family friend, looked at her with grief. He was trembling.

Leia looked at the scene before and was transported back to that fateful night. The familiarity of it was crushing. Leia dropped to her knees and sobbed, heart-wrenching sobs. The memories of her past flooding back. This time death came by day, not night.

Chapter 1 - In the News

On the other side of the world Harry Potter woke up. Harry was no ordinary boy. He was a wizard who currently attended one of the best wizarding schools in all of Europe, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry yawned widely and ran his fingers through his messy black hair. It was a sunny morning and birds could be heard outside. Harry grabbed his alarm clock. 8:00 am.

Sighing and then stretching he stood up to his full height of 5 ft 9 and slowly changed from his pyjamas. The reflection in the mirror startled Harry. He looked different. His scar was still as prominent as ever and emerald eyes still blinked back at him. But he was still different. The truth was that Harry had grown a lot during the summer. For once in his life he was actually tall.

Harry made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. The Dursley's gave him there usual morning greeting, which was to ignore him completely. Harry didn't mind, he just sat down and helped himself to toast. His aunt, uncle and surprisingly his cousin were gathered around the television set given to Dudley one summer, watching the news. There was an interesting article concerning the developments of suspicious arson attacks in South America that happened 3 months ago.

The female presenter explained the story.

As reported three months ago, purposely-lit fires destroyed homes northern suburbs of Lima, the capital city of Peru, in which three people were killed and over 20 people injured. Just yesterday it was reported that the same happened again but in the little town of Mezitu where an elderly woman was killed and others hurt...

Harry just switched off. This incident seemed more like to be done by teenage delinquents, not by Voldemort and his Deatheaters. Harry finished his toast and went to his room ("Lousy delinquents these days!" grumbled Uncle Vernon). When he returned he found Hedwig, a snowy-white owl with large amber eyes, perched on the window seal and another wispy looking owl that he did not recognise.

Harry walked over to Hedwig and stroked her feathers. He was pleased to find two letters attached to her leg. He removed them and was rewarded with an affectionate nip on his finger.

The first letter was from Ron:

Harry,

It's Ron here. Like last year I can't say much. Don't be angry because I believe you will not be alone much longer. Again, I can't say much. I hope you are fine and those damn Muggles better be treating you right. We are all where we were last time.

Ron

P.S. Read the paper

Annoyance and anger was building up in Harry again. "So," he thought. "They want me to be kept in the dark again?" Harry calmed a bit when he remember how Ron had said how he "will not be alone much longer?"

Would they come for him like last time?

Harry shrugged and picked up his second letter, which he predicted would be from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

I know Ron has written to you but I must repeat what he has said. I cannot say everything I would like. Arrangements have been made to help you out. We have reached very interesting times. Hold on there. Read the Daily Prophet, there are things in there that would be of interest.

From Hermione

Placed both letters down and looked at his visitor. The barn owl ruffled its feathers impatiently, obvious that it wished to depart. Harry paid it 5 nuts and reached for the Daily Prophet. The owl hooted indignantly, gave Hedwig an annoyed looked and flew out in the endless blue sky.

Harry glanced at the front page. There was a moving picture of burning house. A very familiar burning house. Harry realised it was the same house shown on the television. Harry quickly read the article.

South American Minister for Magic Dead

It has sadly been discovered that Minister for Magic of South America, Carlos Colhen aged 43, was killed in a tragic fire killing himself, his wife aged 42 and young son aged 5. Colhen died nearly three months prior to the reported fires in the Peruvian village of Mezitu, in which his sister-in-law aged 57 was also killed. Temporary Minister for Magic for Britain, Arthur Weasley, expresses his deep condolences on behalf of the British magical community, to the rest of Mr Colhen's family as well as to the South American Magical Community.

"Carlos Colhen's passing is a great loss to the wizarding world. He was one of the magical world's finest leaders. His contributions to the betterment of our community will be sorely missed. His policies on Muggle relations have also influenced many of the world's ministries legislation concerning dealings with non-magical people. "

As previously reported, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, is currently on probation and risking impeachment due to his alleged dealings with Deatheater Lucius Malfoy and failings to inform the magical community of the return of dark wizard You-know-who. For full details refer to article of page 5...

Harry finished reading and pondered the article's significance. Mr Weasley had been appointed temporary Minister for Magic! Harry was glad as he respected the man very much. Returning his thoughts to the article, he remembered how the last time Muggle news and wizarding news have ever coincided was the escape of Azkaban prisoner, Sirius Black. Harry's mind went blank, as often did when he thought of his godfather. His death never left him quite the same. There was always that underlying, gnawing feeling of guilt. Of knowing that he should have know it was a trap, knowing he should have stopped Bellatrix, of knowing he should have worked harder at Occlumency. He felt angry and misused. Why did Voldemort have to take everything he ever loved from him? He took his parents, now he took his godfather, the closest thing to a father he had ever known. Wasn't that enough?

"Wasn't that enough!" he found himself shouting.

Harry's sudden outburst was rewarded by Uncle Vernon's angry response.

"Quieten down boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted from downstairs.

Harry ignored the reply and sat down on the floor. He decided to not think of Sirius at the moment. It hurt too much. Harry decided to distract his mind by returning to the newspaper article.

"This is too much of a coincidence," Harry thought to himself. "I think I will ask Dumbledore when I next see him." Harry got up and went for a walk.

The next few days passed uneventfully. They were just as sunny and warm as the last. However, it was on Harry's birthday that he received another message. It took four owls to deliver what looked like a box of parcels. Remus' message was on the top.

Harry,

Happy Birthday!

We will come for you this evening at 5. Just like before. Be ready

Remus,

P.S Ron, Hermione and the rest of us have enclosed their birthday cards and gifts.

Harry sifted through the envelope and happily placed his friends' cards outside his trunk. He then looked at their gifts. Ron had given him strange looking clock. Eying it, Harry noticed a scrap of parchment with Ron's messy handwriting.

Harry, it's a Snitch Timer. You attach it to your broomstick and it gives you the accurate time it took for you to catch the snitch. It also gives you flying tips (and other unwanted advice. Tell you about it later).

Harry smiled at the small silver clock. Harry also noticed it was just the right size for it be attached to his Firebolt without it being too bulky. Harry placed it inside his trunk and opened Hermione's present. Not to Harry's surprise it was a book. It was the "A Wizard's Best Friend- Guide to Quidditch (Exclusive special on Bowman Wright).

"Good old Hermione," Harry thought.

The rest of the order had given presents as well as. Mr and Mrs Weasley gave him a chocolate cake, Fred and George Skivving Snackboxes, Remus- a handy wand holder, Tonks- a small flying model of his firebolt, Shacklebolt- a box of Bertie's Every Flavour Beans, Dumbledore- a beautiful phoenix quill that wrote with gold ink, Hagrid- bag of rock cakes (which he left untouched) and from Mundugus as wonky looking wooden box that apparently made whatever you put in it disappear in order to hide it from others. Harry didn't trust this as he wasn't sure as to how he would make it come back agin (Harry also had a slight suspicion that Mundungus had smuggled it from somewhere).

Harry spent the rest of the day packing, looking for any forgotten quills or books. At 4:55 Harry heard a crash from the Dursleys' garden shed.

"Tonks must have come," Harry thought to himself and he made his way downstairs.