The Arcs of Destiny

Chapter I:

am and pm

'Who can say where the road goes,

where the day flows?

Only time...'

-Enya, Only Time

It was dark outside as newly seventeen-year-old Harry Potter looked out the window. He hadn't been able to sleep for two weeks because of the nightmares that haunted him almost every night. Each night he would wake up breathing heavily and kept himself from going back to sleep again. He never remembered the nightmares but he knew he didn't want to experience them again.

The stars in the sky twinkled merrily. Harry had just sent a letter off to Sirius Black, his godfather, with Hedwig, his owl. He had wanted to find out where Sirius was and how he was doing. They hadn't spoken to each other in a while since the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, had sent Sirius off to find out more about a lead on how to finally kill Voldemort. Sirius had training as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic and he might be able to come up with some clues since the last thirty or forty times Harry had tried himself to kill Voldemort never worked.

A loud crash startled Harry from his thoughts about Sirius. He jumped off the bed and crept slowly to the door of his small bedroom and opened the door a crack, peering into the hallway. The master bedroom door was closed and so was his cousin's door. He wondered if he should go downstairs to see what happened. What if he had just imagined it? Then, one of the Dursleys might wake up and he would be in trouble for walking around downstairs during the night. That would mean his aunt and uncle would lock him in his room for sure with only tomato soup for meals.

Another crash came from downstairs. Out of curiousity, Harry dared himself to go downstairs. He slipped down the stairs quietly, willing the Dursleys to stay asleep. As he reached the foot of the stairs, he saw a light like a flashlight scanning the walls in the kitchen through the slightly open door. He gently pushed the door open and the sight startled him so much that he had to fight back the urge to scream.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen was the one and only Voldemort. He was a thin man with very white skin, wide scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils. Voldemort turned around to face Harry and all sorts of questions arose into Harry's head, like "How did you get in here?". The Dark Lord smiled evilly and began to walk towards Harry, an odd shape in the crook of his arm. Harry stood rooted in the spot, his eyes fixed in fear at the shape and wondering what it was.

It was a body and it looked like it was still living, although that would have to be a first considering who the person was with. It was also a girl, someone that seemed vaguely familiar to Harry. He didn't even notice Voldemort raise his wand and point it at Harry, muttering 'Avada kedavra' under his breath.

A flash of bright green light erupted from the tip of his wand and suddenly all Harry could hear was screaming.

***

Harry woke up then and sat up quickly, promptly falling off the bed, yelling, "Bloody hell!" He landed on his hands and knees and froze in place, listening for anything from the Dursleys' bedrooms. His ears were greeted with loud snores and Harry sighed, standing up. He ran a hand through his black hair and thought about his nightmare. He could hardly remember it but he knew it was the same dream he'd been having for weeks. He turned and looked in the mirror, surveying himself.

Harry Potter was no longer a scrawny boy who was famously known as the Boy Who Lived. Now he was a tall but slender and lean teenaged boy who was still famously known as the Boy Who Lived. He still had untidy black hair, emerald eyes, glasses, and the famous scar that he had acquired when he was just a one-year-old going up against Voldemort, the most powerful Dark wizard for a century. Voldemort had killed Harry's parents before turning his wand on Harry, but the curse set upon Harry rebounded against Voldemort, diminishing him to something that hasn't died yet, but still clung on, bidding his time. And his time was well bidden. In Harry's fourth year, Voldemort arose from near death gaining all of his former power and maybe then some. Since then, Harry, Dumbledore, and a group of other witches and wizards had been venturing in possible ways to bring down Voldemort.

Harry licked his dry lips nervously and thought it might be possible to sneak downstairs for a glass of water. He had been doing that often, ever since he had his first nightmare that summer. He never took a lot of food to eat for a snack or made a lot of noise so that the Dursleys didn't know about his nightly habits and he could keep doing them. He peered out of the room and checked again for two or three rounds of snoring. When he was satisfied that all in the house were in a deep slumber, Harry crept slowly to the stairs and down, wary of creaky floorboards. He stepped down the last step and crept down the hall to the kitchen, pushing the door open.

The kitchen was terribly silent. A light from outside shone through a kitchen window, illuminating the clock which read 1:37 am. Harry sighed. What was he going to do for the next four or five hours until the Dursleys woke up? He crossed the kitchen and opened the refridgerator. He got out the jug of water and went over to the cupboard for a glass and poured himself some water. Then he put the jug back into the fridge and exited the kitchen yawning and thinking he could exercise for awhile and then do some of the homework his teachers had given the sixth year students for the summer. In fact, he had an essay due in his least favourite class, Potions, with his least favourite teacher, Professor Snape. He didn't really want to do the essay, but he didn't want points to be taken from Gryffindor house on the first day on account of him.

He just passed the door walking to the stairs when he heard a soft pounding on the door. He froze, his hand on the stair railing and his foot on the first step. The pounding stopped and the house was filled with an eerie quiet. Then it started again and Harry walked quickly to the door and put his glass on the hall table. He opened the door and his eyes grew wide in shock.

On the porch a tall boy was standing. He had blonde hair and a pale face with streaks of dirt on his cheeks. He wore a long cloak that had been torn in several places and would've made the boy cringe if he had witnessed this in an earlier time, but he looked right at home in it now. The boy lowered his hand and cast an annoyed look at Harry, whose jaw had dropped.

"Shut your mouth, Potter," Draco Malfoy sneered. "This isn't a freak show and you'll catch flies that way."

Harry closed his mouth and looked coldly at Draco. "Why in the friggin' hell are you here, Malfoy?" he asked. Draco just raised one blonde eyebrow.

*****

In another part of the world, an alarm clock read 9:37 am. Hermione Granger lay in her bed, trying to sleep more but she couldn't. Ever since she and her family had arrived in Perth, Australia, all they had did was go on tours and sight-seeing trips for most of the day. They usually only got home at 10 o'clock at night and had gone straight to bed, exhausted from all the shopping and walking they had enjoyed that day. Hermione rarely ever slept in so late in the morning, but it was the summer holidays and on account of everything they did the day before, the whole family enjoyed sneaking in a few extra hours of sleep in the morning.

Bright sunshine streamed through the window and danced on Hermione's closed eyes. Groaning, she rolled over to her other side, hoping to escape the sun, but she couldn't. Hermione muttered a few well chosen curses and sat up, stretching and yawning. She swung her legs off the bed and walked to the door. Pressing her ear against the door, she listened for any sounds coming from the kitchen. Hearing none, she shrugged her shoulders and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. She passed a mirror and backed up to survey her appearance.

Over the years, she had acquired a very pretty appearance. Her shoulder-length brown hair was no longer bushy and Hermione could do more with it, like curling it in large and loose curls. She had pretty brown eyes with a light tan on her skin and she no longer had buckteeth. She wore a light blue tank top with small bluish-white ruffles on the edges and a pink sheep in the middle of the top and pink pyjama bottoms with white sheep that she had made in the summer before sixth year. Her aunt Hillary had visited that summer and she had taught Hermione how to make clothes. The family hadn't been able to go on a holiday since the summer before fourth year on account of a new arrival to the Granger family, so relatives had visited several times to help Elizabeth Granger with the new addition, Alexlizzanna Marianni Granger, or Alexis for short.

Alexis had been born on August 18th in the summer before fifth year. Hermione had been surprised that year when she came home and found that her mother was pregnant. Her parents didn't tell her because they hadn't known until the month before the last trimester and since Hermione would've been home in a couple of weeks, they had decided to tell her then. Alexis was born a beautiful and healthy baby, weighing in at 7 pounds and 3 ounces. Now, she was an energetic two-year-old that loved to run around the house. Hermione was always surprised at how careful Alexis was when she ran. It was like she knew that if she didn't do anything wrong like break a vase, she wouldn't get into trouble and also she would slow down when approaching corners. She had curly brown hair that ran through the family and big blue eyes.

Hermione continued down the hall to the kitchen and turned on the coffeemaker. She desperately needed coffee or she would be cranky the rest of the day from too much sleep (or so she would like to think it was, but she knew it would be from loss of sleep) and she wanted to avoid that. When the coffee was ready, she poured herself a cup and walked through the living room to the balcony, sipping her coffee which burned her tongue. She pushed open the door and lay a hand on the stone balcony rail.

It was a beautiful morning. The air was crisp and smelled like the ocean. The Swan River glinted in the sunlight in the distance and small boats were already traveling up it. An idea hit Hermione and she drank another sip of her coffee before turning back inside and heading for her bedroom. There, she changed into a pink t-shirt and grey sweat pants. Then she put her jogging shoes on and walked out the door and locked it behind her. She walked down the hotel hallway to the lobby where the elevators were and took an elevator down to the first floor. The lobby was decorated in rich, creamy colours, beautiful flowers, and Australian paintings. She jogged out of the lobby and onto the busy sidewalk, full of working people walking to where they worked and tourists out to shop.

Occasionally, Hermione needed to get out of the hotel suite and not do something that had anything to do with tourism. So, on the mornings when she was the first one up, she would take to her most familiar route jogging down the shopping district. She weaved around crowds, the wind gently rippling through her hair, probably making it tangled. At the end of the district, she took a small road to the riverfront and jogged along the beach before heading back along the same route. Once on the small road, she passed an alley where she heard a scream and a shout. She froze at the entrance and looked down the alley but saw nothing except an entrance to another alley at the dead end. Cautiously, Hermione picked her way through puddles of mud and piles of garbage, her breathing coming in ragged gasps from running. At the end of the alley, she turned the corner and gasped.

A man with red skin and two horns protruding from his skull was raising an arm with blades for fingernails on a small girl, his back to Hermione. The girl had long blonde hair and was crying, her eyes looking from the demon to something by the wall.

It was extraordinary and beautiful, but powerful. By the wall, gaseous clouds were swirling, blue gas strings forming a kind of small tornado, except the clouds weren't moving forward. They were sparkling and they emanated a beautiful white light. Hermione stared in awe, gaping. What was this?

The girl spotted Hermione and yelled, "Go! He doesn't want you... he just wants me!"

The man turned to look at Hermione, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. "No, not if she wants to stay. I don't mind having more fun after I'm through with you," he said, turning back to the blonde girl.

The girl screamed as the man brought his razor claws down on her, hard. Hermione ran forward hoping to try to save the girl, but the man turned back to her and hit her so hard that she flew backwards and landed on her behind and hands next to the clouds. The blonde girl was screaming like a banshee as dark clouds formed around her, enveloping her. Hermione put her hands on her ears to drown out the shrieks from the girl but noticed that the sound had disappeared. The girl had also disappeared.

Something weird was happening to the clouds too. They were growing darker and swirling more fast. The man sensed this and turned and started to run toward them, but it was already too late. The clouds had started to move and they were moving towards Hermione quickly. A bolt of lightning was emitted from the clouds, striking the man hard in the chest and sending him backwards. Hermione tried to back away but the clouds had already started to circle her and she stood up. The clouds suddenly became lighter and shrank into her and Hermione gasped as energy she had never felt before began to spread through her veins, warming her from head to toe. She felt wonderful. She felt powerful.

The man made a mad dash towards Hermione. She watched as he got closer and then it happened. As if she knew what to do, she slammed the back of her fist against the man's face, causing him to stumble backwards and onto a pipe that stuck up from the ground, impaling him. A wreath of fire sprang up on the edges of the man's body and quickly swallowed him up, leaving behind an alley and a very startled girl who immediately left the alley.

*****

In another part of the world, all the Weasleys, minus Bill and Charlie, were eating at the Potion Restaurant in Mellowside, a small wizarding village in Southern Canada. They made a lot of money from Fred and George's joke shop (that was a big hit, especially in Canada) and the work Arthur and Percy Weasley did at the Ministry of Magic so they decided to take a trip to Canada for a holiday and to buy new school supplies for Ron and Ginny, who were still going to Hogwarts. The clock above the door read 8:37 pm.

Ginny sat between Arthur (her father) and Ron. She slowly ate her soup, listening to the conversations around her. Arthur and Molly were talking about the rest of the holidays. Percy was yelling at George for the dung beetles in his soup. Fred and Ron were animatedly talking about the Quidditch season, which left Ginny alone. She wished that either Bill or Charlie were there so that she could talk to them. She found them the most interesting, especially Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. They were kind to her...well, the whole family was (excluding the twins since they would play pranks on anyone, even their younger sister. She had learned that when one morning, she had woken up to a bed full of exploding frogs).

Ginny had red hair (like the whole family) and brown eyes. Tonight, she wore her hair back in a small bun with strands of hair coming out and a dark green robe. She had on the table a drawing that she would occasionally work at if the conversations got boring. It was a drawing of a particular part of Lake Borealis that she had seen and was the most beautiful place there. There was a red bridge that went over the Jade River and McCowan Rd. traveled across it. The forest surrounded the lake, the bridge, and the river and stretched down to the beginning of McCowan Rd. at Hwy. 56, and the pines were a silvery dark green. Tiny flowers grew on the beach where the river flowed out of the lake. There were pink, purple, and blue and larger flowers of white and red in the bushes on the edge of the beach by the forest. Each morning, a mist gathered on the lake and sometimes it would be a cloudy morning where the mist would have a blue hue to it and other times, the morning would dawn sunny and the mist would be orange and red. Ginny often went there whenever her family was a bit overbearing. She would leave a note and disappear down to the lake where she could draw it up close and personal and not just from memory. She used Zonko's Magical Pencil Crayons on the drawing to make it look more alive and more real so that it dawned and set with the real sun.

Ginny's thoughts shot back to earth when she realized that her family was starting to leave. She gathered up her pencil crayons and her drawing and pushed her now empty soup bowl aside. The clock above the door now read 8:56 pm.

The family left the restaurant and walked home. It was a long walk, but they all needed the exercise after that large dinner. Other witches and wizards were out that night too and Ginny often had to walk around the crowds of them standing in front of stores. The buildings were so old and reminded Ginny of Muggle London. The cobblestone streets were named after weird things like Banana Dr, which the family turned onto from Blanche St. It was a small town of about 10,000. History has it that Mellowside is the wizarding equivalent to Summerside, the Muggle town. They rest in the exact same spot except you had to know how to get into Mellowside and that is why Muggles never knew about it.

Soon the family turned right on Murray Dr, left on 69th Concession, and right on Hiacinth Dr where they went inside their house. Feeling slightly left out, Ginny left a note on the table telling her mother she was going to draw and left the house that a friend had loaned them while he and his family were on vacation. Ginny walked back down the stone steps and made her way towards the lake, drawing and pencil crayons in hand.

The night was beautiful. The last rays of the sun glowed on the lake and the tree tops. Ginny walked through the forest to the beach where she found her favourite rock and perched on it, settling her drawing on her lap.

For awhile, Ginny drew the rest of the colours of the flowers. The drawing was almost finished. All she needed now was what it looked like at night in complete darkness. She sighed and lay back against a tree trunk, waiting for night to come.

Something, or someone, stirred in the opposite beach, far beyond. Ginny bolted upright, looking across the lake to the beach. There was a flash of light and a bit of red-looking hair before it disappeared into the bush with a laugh. Ginny relaxed and lay back against the tree trunk. It was probably one of the twins trying to scare her. How they knew about the lake though, Ginny could only guess.

She closed her eyes and listened to the forest. Birds in the trees sang happily and every now and then, she could hear the wind ruffling through the tall grass behind her. Soon, she fell asleep, and the world around her watched and waited.

*****

Draco raised an eyebrow and pushed past Harry inside. Harry closed the door and Draco looked around. Pictures of a fat little boy hung on the walls. Draco turned around to face Harry and said, "Not a very nice thing to say to a guest, isn't it?"

"I beg to differ," Harry retorted. "You are not my guest nor will you ever be."

"Sorry, Potter," Draco drawled. "I do not want to be your guest as much as you do but you were the only person that was in the area."

"Wait a minute, "Harry said, lowering his voice. "How do you know where I live? And keep your voice down!"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Looked it up," he replied, also lowering his voice. "It's common knowledge that you live with the Dursleys. Oh, and don't worry. Voldemort is not about to stomp in here and try to kill you. You're too well protected."

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, after a short silence.

"Potter, it's not really any of your business," Draco told him, his voice rising slightly. He paused, then continued, his voice lower. "I don't try to find out what happens in your life, why should you?"

"I'm not trying to pry," Harry answered irritably. "It's just that when you come marching into my uncle's house asking for a place to stay, it is kind of my business as to why you're here. After all, we are enemies-"

"Arch-enemies," Draco interrupted.

"-and you might have an agenda," Harry finished, ignoring Draco's comment.

"I swear I don't have an agenda," Draco said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'll tell you this much. I had to run away from my father. Things never go too well at home."

There was a short silence that was broken again by Harry. "How long will you be here?" he asked, somewhat reluctantly.

"Don't get your hopes up," Draco answered, starting for the stairs. "I plan to crash until school begins. The bedrooms are upstairs, right? You never can tell with these small houses."

Harry sighed and grabbed his glass of water off the hall table. He led the way upstairs to his bedroom and asked, "Bed or the floor?"

"Bed," Draco answered.

Harry sighed again and pulled a blanket and a pillow off the bed for himself. Draco smirked inwardly as he lay on the bed and shut his eyes. This would be interesting.