Harry Potter and the Trail of Stars

THIS STORY TAKES PLACE AFTER THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX...IT MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE FIFTH BOOK. THIS STORY IS TOLD IN THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE IMPORTANT CHARACTERS, INCLUDING THE TRIO AND STAFF MEMBERS. AND THE USUAL DISCLAIMER.

A PECULIAR DOG

'It was a nightmare! It was...the staircase to Hell! It was...the staircase that led to the hallways' thought Harry, 'It was the staircase to...' Harry gulped,as he looked down, 'the staircase to Aunt Marge' Harry finished thinking. So...She was waiting for him.

So it ends like this. It was the end for him. Harry knew he could not escape Aunt Marge this time, when she was personally seeking him...seeking him out...

"Make it fast, boy! Look at you skinny thing, you! Why, in my day, they used to slaughter those worthless skinny boys and feed 'em to the animals!" Aunt Marge screeched.

Harry walked down the stairs. Aunt Marge's face came into full view. She had gained weight since the last time he'd seen her. He wondered where her killer dogs were.

"I know you've been up to something, boy! And I don't like it!" screamed Aunt Marge, her small mustache quivering. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia ran into the room, to see what the fuss was all about. Aunt Marge didn't notice them. Her small eyes were fixed on Harry. She finally turned around and saw Vernon.

"Vernon! Explain this! How could this shrimpy disobedient little runt have picked up those entire luggages? I won't lie to you when I say that the most I could pick up at a time is two. How that boy carried all six of them is beyond logic reasoning!" Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged worried looks, for they also could not explain how. Aunt Petunia didn't even know what was going on.

"Petunia," started Aunt Marge, "The little runt had carried all the luggages, all six of 'em...AT ONCE...when the most I've carried is two at once. Can any of you two explain this to me?" Her voice shook. She turned to look at the boy, comparing Harry to Dudley. No doubt about it, something funny was going on, and she intended to figure it out.

"Marge, I'm sure it's nothing. The boy probably had too much to eat this morning. Too much energy released at once, I believe," said Uncle Vernon, thinking fast. Yes...this was a god explanation...A very good one with excellent logical reasoning...

Aunt Marge turned to glare at her brother...her eyes narrowed...

"Perhaps," said Aunt Marge finally, as Uncle Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. He had no idea how the boy became that strong. The boy could have well been using you-know-what, but he was not about to state the abnormality of the child to Marge.

"Too much energy if you ask me...When I compare that under grown runt with Dudley...I can't imagine...Dudley would be a well grown man Vernon! Just like his father!" she declared, giving Dudley a motherly look, proud of her nephew's form. She turned back to look at Vernon and Petunia.

"You shouldn't be feeding the boy too much. Too much energy, if you ask me. It's much more than he deserves," stated Aunt Marge, calming down.

"Quite right Marge. Quite right. Though, I suspect he's been stealing from the kitchen. Must remember to put on locks," replied Uncle Vernon, relieved that this conversation was coming to an end, and that the anomaly has not been revealed. It was at this point, when Dudley gasped Cu-Cutting off the kitchen!

"We'll make sure to give you a key Dudders. Don't you worry. I won't have you starve. Goodness knows how that nurse got her job!" said Aunt Petunia, with a glare at Harry. She eyed him suspiciously, as though telling him she won't let his dirty paws get on the keys. "We'll be off to buy those locks now, won't we Vernon?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"Yes. We'll be going now. Marge, you make yourself at home. The guest room, you know, is upstairs. And there's a basement downstairs for your dogs, when they come," said Uncle Vernon, reaching for Aunt Petunia's arm, and leading her out the door, leaving Harry, Dudley, and Marge quite alone.

Dudley started talking. "What happened to your dogs, Aunt Marge?" asked Dudley, politely.

"Wonderful boy! See how caring he is?" asked Aunt Marge, glaring at Harry, "Now, unlike HIM, Dudley got manners. Dudleykins will grow to be a nice young lad."

Harry struggled to not laugh. It had hurt somehow, and then Harry remembered. He had some cracked ribs from the night Dudley had beat him up. He looked up again, to see that Aunt Marge and Dudley had been staring at him.

"Thinking nasty thoughts aren't you boy! Well I'll tell you boy, I'm a trained black belt, so don't you think about hurting any of the Dursleys!" yelled Aunt Marge. Harry snorted. The very thought of Aunt Marge in a karate suit was unbearable. However, he knew he would pay dearly for his laughs. Harry thought back to Flourish's words...Endure them...two more weeks...

"Now then!" said Aunt Marge suddenly. Dudley jumped (but not too high), and landed on his bottoms. The floor made a sick cracking sound. Harry would have found all this too enjoyable, if it were not for the fact that Aunt Marge was looking murderously at Harry. Harry got the message. He walked over to Dudley and helped him up. Dudley muttered a 'thanks.'

"You want to know about my dogs Dudley?" asked Aunt Marge, in her annoying loud roar. Dudley nodded.

"They'll be here tomorrow Dudders! I couldn't manage all my luggage AND my precious dogs at the same time! And that reminds me, boy!" she said sharply, turning towards Harry, "You'd be taking care of 'em! If I see that you've pulled a hair out of them, you'll get what's coming to you. Yup! All twenty-seven of 'em!" said Aunt Marge, smiling at the fond memory of her killer dogs. Harry gulped. Usually, Aunt Marge brought Ripper. This time, she would be bringing them all. Oh the horror!

"Oh, and, I've got another puppy. Dunno how she is yet, but I've seen a photo of it, and I like it. May not be as big as the others, but it's a sweet one. Even YOU might appreciate it. Boy, sometimes I wish I had a wand, ya know, like them sticks in those movies and books. Then, I could put some sense into you, ungrateful child. Turn you into a chicken and feed it to Ripper. Just like your parents. Well, they came to an end alright, gettin' themselves killed. Drunk!" snarled Aunt Marge, talking face to face with Harry, who stared back at her.

His mind was spinning. 'Aunt Marge had wished she was a witch! No...She didn't know the truth about it...She's only seen what she thinks as a book or show. She had wished for a wand!' thought Harry, wildly imagining Aunt Marge in dress robes, posing as Miss Lockhart-Wannabe. Of course, Harry dismissed that thought right away.

"I'm talking to you, boy! Did you hear a word I said?" roared Aunt Marge. Harry could feel his hair being blown from the rush. "I thought so. Never do pay attention to your elders, do you? Hmph! Must remember to speak to Petunia about this one," she muttered on the way to the living room. No doubt watching the television for any pointless news. Harry sighed. He was okay. He had survived the first encounter.

Harry thought back to the last couple of days. It was a wonder he was still sane. It was only a matter of time...He didn't want to think about Sirius. He didn't want to believe he was dead. And Lupin...He was just taking a nap, as far as Harry was concerned. No. Nothing bad had happened these past few days. Nothing particular weird, unless if you count everything that's happened in those recent days. Everything was peaceful, as Harry wanted to believe.

He was NOT going to acquire new powers. He had NOT acquired his 'own' new powers. The radiant Lady did NOT appear. Dudley had NOT changed. Harry was NOT stronger. His godfather was NOT dead. Lupin was NOT hurt. Voldemort had NOT risen. Cedric was NOT dead. Cho did NOT 'like' Harry. Rita Skeeter did NOT help Harry and Hermione. The Beetle was NOT at bay. Voldemort had NOT changed the weather. Snape was NOT dead. Voldemort had NOT possessed Harry. Professor Trelawney IS an idiot. And Dumbledore was NOT old.

Satisfied, Harry pushed open the door to the cupboard, and took a nap. He was too frustrated to realize that the window was not there anymore. Sleep overtook him.

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"Are you sure Harry has not said anything else to you besides his vision?" asked Dumbledore.

"No. Nothing else. Also, there was no time, but he made no mention to talk of anything other than his Sight," replied a familiar voice.

"How is the boy Albus?" asked an enchanted voice.

"Last school term, I'm afraid has been entirely too rough for him. He has now, no relations that he love. The closest thing he had ever had to a parent, was Sirius. As Flourish informed me, Harry seemed very ill. Not sick, just pale. He is struggling with his relations now, I presume. Flourish told me that Harry's other Aunt has come by now. Last time that she had provoked him about his parents, Harry ended up doing accidental magic and exploding her. Harry has powerful accidental magic, don't you think?"

"Yes Albus. It would be a great asset to him to be able to control that accidental magic, and weld it into the magic of will. It is powerful magic, without using a wand," same the enchanted voice.

"Flourish has carefully observed Harry's emotions the week that she stayed with him and his cousin. She believes that Harry is going through some sort of denial. When she told him of Remus, Harry seemed to be distanced, and then quite quickly, he recovered. The boy is going through some mental crisis. First his parents, next his godfather, and then the closest thing he had to a godfather, Remus. These events would have been enough to make any normal sane person insane. Harry has a strong will, but I fear for him. He has already begun the fight for his sanity."

The others had just been listening to this whole conversation between the Lady and Dumbledore, and they couldn't believe what they were hearing. The whole Weasley family, plus Hermione had been squirming in their seats ever since the conversation about Harry had begun. Now, they heard about this deal with his insanity, and they kept silent, each going off in their own little world of thoughts.

Dumbledore looked over everyone else, and saw that they'd been staring at the two, and so he quickly cleared his throat.

"Now, er...back to the topic about the Magids," he said quickly. The Lady glanced at him, and gave him a wink, when he quickly changed the subject. No. Dumbledore could not face what Harry has gone through. Many people in the order turned a glance at the Lady. None recognized her, and wondered who she was, and why was she here. No one knew,that in fact, she was baring a small disguise. Her hair, eye color, and skin color had been carefully concealed. From her talks, she was obviously a friend of Dumbledore, and that was a good enough for them.

It was Dumbledore's turn to smile. He saw that most of them were still looking curiously at the Lady, except for some of Hogwarts' teachers. He began speech again.

"I guess from all the talks today, those of you who weren't informed first, know now, that there is a high possibility of Lord Voldemort being the Lord Magus."

He looked at the crowd. No one seemed terrified. Instead, Dumbledore was extremely pleased to see determined faces staring back at him. They were Dumbledore's Order. They will be in the Third War. In their eyes, showed strength and unity. There was not a dry eye in this room. The portraits in the Grimmauld Place have changed personalities, ever since the death of Sirius. They have begun to see reason, after hearing all the talks about the Dark. The elf was sulking around in the corners, listening in on the meeting. But of course, everyone knew about it. And they knew exactly what to do to the elf by now. Satisfied with the atmosphere of the room, he spoke again.

"There are many other possibilities for who the Lord Magus is. Cassy and I, we have gone over the possibilities. However, this is not the time for that. We cannot interfere with the Awakening," said Dumbledore, his voice going hoarse.

Cassandra had walked over to where Albus had been standing, and winked at him, who clearly had a dried throat, in need of water. She took out her wand, and muttered, "Io Water desiderata," and a goblet of water appeared in her hand. She walked over to Albus, and put it in his hand. Everyone stared at this and laughed. The scene would have been too amusing. Too anyone looking in the window, it would have looked like a little girl offering an old long bearded man a cookie.

One of them stood up. "Dumbledore. You have not told us all there is to know. In this meeting, only you and a few others who have carried on this meeting know every detail. We know nothing more other than the fact that the Magus Awakening is about to happen, and that Voldemort is a possible Magus, and the fact that Harry Potter is...well...you know...Can't you tell us nothing more?"

Dumbledore turned to look at the man. "All will be explained in due time. This is not the time to tell you all everything that has happened. The truths, explanations, and questions will be for the next meeting, in which Harry is present." The final look in Dumbledore's eyes give the impression that no more on this subject will be discussed.

"Albus. There is something that must be discussed. They must be prepared to fight something that they know something of," spoke another voice.

"Voldemort has newer powers, that is true. If what Natalie and Harry tells us is real, then Voldemort has control over the weather, as well as a number of other things possibly, I imagine. Sibyll's prophecy has flaws. The second half is false. I have carefully studied her form during the last half. During her speech, she had been interfered with. Someone powerful has stopped her from speaking it," came the voice of Dumbledore.

"But who can? Prophecy Speaking is a powerful magic, aided by the Oracle. Dumbledore, are you tell me that someone was magic enough to tamper with the Oracle?" asked a new voice.

"As for that, I do not know. I do not know if that someone is on our side or not. Perhaps, if that last half was spoken, something else would change. Perhaps that last half of the prophecy was not meant to be revealed."

"Strange things have occurred these past days, Dumbledore. All this leads to one direction. That Lord Voldemort may very well be a Magus! It doesn't matter which one. If he has Awakened, then there is no chance of survival for us!" snapped an irritable voice.

"Albus. As you must have guessed by now, the Anathest and the Anathesilist has guided him. They will not allow death to overcome him while he is half theirs. I am not afraid of Voldemort. He is no one that I know. No one that I fear. Tom Riddle has left long ago. His soul is in a different place now. By the power of my people, you shall have my aid. I now give you my blessing to begin this war, this Third War. You shall have the aid of my people," said an enchanted voice.

"My dear Lady, I am grateful for your help. I am gratified to hear your consent over Voldemort. This ancient prophecy, you have read, and you have known. I ask, what is your sense of it?"

"Albus, in this prophecy states the obvious and the hidden. The Line of Lyre has been reborn. Even now, I feel them interacting with one another. I feel a connection in between. The path is laid before us. We will walk the path to whatever end. The Starlight shall not betray us if we do not betray it. Stray from the right path, and it will be the Shadow of Darkness. There are many directions to go. One will be the Path of Lumist. In the gathering Light, The Heliomiste shall join the Song and the Eye when the Strings have been called upon. The Diamond Water shall be consulted again. All this will happen in due time. But that is not of this year. As you've said, we must focus now, on the task at hand."

"Quite true! Quite true!" came another familiar, a bit squeaky though. "We have to turn our attention away from the Lyre for now. You heard the Lady! What we must concentrate now, are the Magids, and the start of the new school term."

"Yes Filius. You are quite correct. However, one simply cannot concentrate on the present, without first looking to the future," came the enchanted voice.

"Yes...We must look into the school year. There is much to do this year."

"Albus. I have informed you of the transfer two of the students to you. They have agreed, but they do not know the reasoning behind this. They will be told of the truth at the beginning of the school year. They will be arriving with their fellow students. Those two students are the most caring in our school. I know that you have Death Eater potentials at your school. Those two students that will be transferred will try to steer them out of that path. There is not much hope that this will be successful. Of one of the two, there is another reason, as you know."

"Yes. I indeed know. And I am sure to be thankful of my new students. December, the lot will be arriving. My students will be most surprised."

"I will leave now, and I bid you all farewell. I shall not come in person for the next meeting, Albus. There is much danger for the Order because of my being here. Voldemort can feel my presence. I will find another way to communicate with you." With a sad smile, she vanished.....without a pop, or a crack. Everyone looked at one another. No doubt they had been in the presence of a powerful witch.

"Dumbledore! This is not a chat!" cried the irritable voice, losing patience.

"Yes, but that talk did calm my senses a bit. Those Ministry officials didn't call me 'mad' for nothing, you know. Now. You will all need to know what you might eventually come up against. If Voldemort has indeed Awakened into a Magus, then he will unleash a power so great and terrible, that not even every single thing on this planet united, fighting altogether against him, will last a minute. There will be no set boundaries on his power, unlike the regular Magids. As you've experienced some mornings ago, there has been a terrible storm. Voldemort, as you must know, was the cause of that storm. His control over the weather, is indeed not a good sign for us," said Dumbledore finally. Silence. There was not a sound of breathing. "Voldemort already cannot be killed, as proven. If he has acquired those powers, which some of us believe to be true, than there is little hope for us. He will triumph against us like the strongest storm on one single piece of parchment."

"Dumbledore, this cannot happen."

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Eyes snapped open, Harry woke up from his nap. 'What's going on?' wonder Harry. 'Why am I getting so many visions lately?' asked Harry to himself. 'This vision wasn't even of Voldemort! How can this be possible?' thought Harry, scratching his face. 'I only have visions of Voldemort's happenings because of that scar connection! How can I have one on one of the Order's meetings? My small Sight's been expanded!'

Harry sat up, Indian Style. He had a sudden thought. Yes, he would experiment this. "So much for that last thought before I took the nap," muttered Harry, thinking about his denial. 'Well, the other things didn't have to happen. The other things DIDN'T happen. The Magus thingy is okay. It's not bad, right?'

Letting go of this thought, he concentrated on the kitchen. He emptied all his thoughts, and slowly let his mind drift off to sleep...

After a couple of minutes, Dudley! In the kitchen! Eating...a celery stick. Yuck, lunch.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He looked around. Yup, this was his cupboard alright. And what he had Seen was definitely NOT in his cupboard. Harry quickly stood up, and pushed the door open. He cautiously made his way into the kitchen, so not to awake a snoring Aunt Marge. He looked inside the kitchen, and sure enough, there was Dudley, chewing away on his celery stick. Harry quickly made his way back to the cupboard, and only then, did his jaw drop.

'I can See things. See things at will. I could See what I wanted!' thought Harry, wildly. The possibilities of this were endless. But Harry, his eyes were getting droopy, and a headache had begun to settle in, slowly turning into a migraine. 'So.....this was the side effect to my newly found vision,' thought Harry, understanding what was going on with his migraine. 'So this is the price. We'll, I'd better not try this again without supervision. If I got this horrible headache for Seeing this short a distance, I'd shudder to think what would happen to me if I tried to See what Voldemort was up to. Maybe I should just let my visions go the natural way...without my aide. 'Cause the 'natural' way doesn't seem to leave me any side effects...'

Without another thought, Harry had gone back to sleep. His migraine headache was just plainly awful.

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When Harry woke up again, it was the next morning. The window had appeared again, allowing Harry to look outside. There was already light. Harry put on his glasses, and frowned, taking them off again. He had forgotten. He had his glasses on the whole week, not noticing, because he was so used to that vision. Now, he could see more details, and farther away, not unnaturally. It was like...21/21 vision. It was over perfect. Harry took a shower, and made his way downstairs again.

Harry's jaw instantly dropped as he gasped for air. Running in the hallways, out of control, were twenty-seven of them killer dogs, just as Aunt Marge had promised them. His eyes carried him away from the scene of the dogs, and onto Aunt Petunia. She stood there, still as stone, watching the dogs with fright. She had detested dogs, and now, running around on her carpet, were twenty-seven of them. Aunt Marge watched them with fondness. The dogs had just arrived while Harry was in the shower. She didn't quite understand the panicked expressions on the other three Dursleys' faces. She mistook their horrid expressions for happiness.

"Are you up boy? You'd be taking those...er...Aunt Marge's dogs down to their place in the basement. C'mon boy, and make it fast!" yelled Uncle Vernon, from downstairs. It was the first time, Harry noted, that Uncle Vernon was glad and relieved to see Harry, who very well knew the reasoning behind the relief.

He watched the Dursleys walking away. He gave a requesting look to Dudley, gesturing for him to please help. Dudley looked back at him, with a look of disgust. Nobody in their right minds would do so much as go close to the twenty-seven killers.

"C'mon DudleyPooh! Show the boy how it's done!" roared Aunt Marge, walking to the kitchen. Dudley gulped. Harry smirked. He mentally wondered where the new puppy was. Just then, the doorbell had rung. Aunt Marge, rushed to get the door.

In came an old man with sunglasses and a cane, carrying a small puppy in blankets. Aunt Marge took the puppy, and the man left, after digesting the scene in front of him. About two dozen dogs running wildly, and two boys working together trying to tame one of the dogs; a fat boy and a skinny boy. The man chuckled and left. "Have a nice day!" he called out before leaving. When Aunt Marge turned around, Harry caught a glimpse of the dog. It was a golden yellow color, with short hair, pretty cute. Aunt Marge was some sort of human after all.

Altogether, it had taken Harry and Dudley three hours, two severely scratched bellies, and four arms full of bite marks, to get the bloody dogs into the basement. By the time it was over, both were drenched in sweat. Dudley it seems, had gotten his workout for the day, and turned and left for the kitchen. Harry followed. It was almost time for lunch. Both he and Dudley had missed breakfast because of the dogs.

After a couple of minutes, Harry was sent back out of the kitchen. Aunt Marge pointed to the stacks of dog food, and Harry understood. The rest of the afternoon had been used to feed the dogs. When the whole event was over, Harry had made it out of the basement...alive...and quite sane. Harry had made it just in time for dinner. He quickly cleaned himself from the dog's drool and his own blood, and made his way into the kitchen. All the Dursleys were settled down for dinner. When he sat down at his usually small spot, the four turned to look at him. Dudley seemed a bit sorry for Harry. Even Aunt Petunia seemed apologetic. Uncle Vernon however, did nothing of a sort, and went back to his conversation with Marge. Of course he was grateful for the little runt. It was high time the boy had paid the Dursleys back, in his opinion.

"Never in my time have I ever seen anything like it," went Aunt Marge, giving Harry a nasty look, and going back to the conversation.

"What was it again? Seventeen people dead, and seventy injuries?" asked Uncle Vernon.

Aunt Marge nodded. "It's a supernatural thing. I saw the whole thing from my window, and on tape on the News from that morning. Never in my day. It was supernatural, I tell you!" insisted Aunt Marge. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had not been in Britain during that morning, so they didn't know about it.

"All of a sudden the sky blackened, and it was hailing and raining. Lightning and thunder started later. I tell you, that storm had a mind of its own! The News was going on about it for a whole week! Got the whole damn meteorologists in a state of shock!" said Aunt Marge. Harry knew what she was talking about. He had almost been inside it, well...from a dream's perspective. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked darkly at each other. They knew it must have something to do with HIS crowd. In Uncle Vernon's mind, he was thinking, 'Was it the Voldy-thing?' Aunt Petunia knew very well that it was, and she knew a bit about Voldemort's power. She glanced at the boy again, and began chewing her tongue.

Harry, on the other hand, had stopped his thoughts about Voldemort, deciding that nothing happened as far as he was concerned. Instead, he kept his thoughts and eyes on the bundle of blankets in Aunt Marge's arms. The cute eyes of the puppy kept staring at Harry, which he found extremely odd. Dogs never did like him much...except...Sirius. Harry felt a rush of emotions, and willed himself to think...Sirius is NOT dead. Satisfied, he left the dinner table, casting a last glance at the dog. Not knowing, the dog leaped out of Aunt Marge's arms and followed Harry.

Aunt Marge chuckled. "Ah, I see. Only one day here, and already on the job. She'd be watching that nasty runt, making sure he don't do anything criminally."

Once inside his cupboard, Harry closed the door, and looked behind him, and sure enough, there was a little ball of golden fur staring back at him.

"Why hello there. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were an Animagus!" chuckled Harry, amused by the thought of the dog's peculiar actions. Harry thought it was a cute dog. Maybe the dog will be his friend.

All of Harry's thoughts were interrupted, when the dog had suddenly transformed into a pretty woman. Harry gasped. He didn't seriously mean that last part. It was supposed to be a joke!

"How did you know?" asked the golden haired woman. Harry was at a loss for words.

"I-I-I-didn't -kno-know," stammered Harry. He was still in shock.

"Well anyways, the sooner you find out the better. Yes Harry. I am an Animagus. I am part of the defense system protecting you. Nasty woman, she is," she added. "Don't be alarmed Harry. I will stay here as a trusty dog. Dumbledore has asked me to tell you that any of those visions that you have, you should tell me. Also, I'm afraid I cannot be much much against those blasted relatives of yours. I'm afraid I cannot use wand magic while I'm in this house. Also, I will be leaving about two days before the end of the two weeks is over."

Harry nodded. He had seen her from his recent vision, part of the Order, he thought,

"My name is Cora. I am a Charms and Bewitchment teacher at the Galadralls Private Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a friend of Albus Dumbledore. Now, I think, I should go back to my dog form. I can hear and understand you when I'm a dog." And with that, she transformed back.

Harry thought to tell her about his recent vision, but decided not to. It would lead to awkward questions of why it was about the Order. 'They must not think I am the Magus. Geldrelline said so. The Mento rmust know first, and when exactly am I going to find out who he or she is?' thought Harry, looking back at the dog.