From the Shadows

From the Shadows

Prologue

Hermione Granger, Professor of Charms at Hogwarts School, knocked cautiously on the stone door at Blackburrow Manor seven times in quick secession. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot, unreasonably nervous. It was the first time in three years she was going to visit Harry Potter, her best friend of the old days and one-time lover. Since that fateful day three years ago, she had never seen or spoken to the infamous Boy-Who-Lived.

She sincerely hoped that Harry would remember the contents of the knock she and he had made up those many months ago, and that he would not view her as a threat approaching his home. Word had it that Harry had gotten quite eccentric over the years, and developed a nasty habit of cursing those on his front steps before bothering to see who they were and what their business was. Hermione, though she excelled at wandless and defense magic, was hoping she would not have to use her new knowledge to defend herself against someone who had once been her supposed soul mate. She was hoping, perhaps in vain, that Harry would remember her, and welcome her back into his life.

The visit that she planned to Blackburrow was not without purpose, nor was it a matter of just seeing an old friend again. There were some mysterious things at work across the Wizarding World, and everyone was beginning to fear the rise of Dark Magic. When the world panicked about Dark Lords and such things, they knew no other reaction than to go call on Harry Potter, and hope that he could save their world again. At a recent convention of the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione had been dubbed the 'fetcher of Harry'. Everyone assumed she had more of a chance of getting him to fight for them than anyone else in the world.

When she had first heard of the plan, Hermione was fairly confident that she could arouse Harry's interest, and bring him back with her. But, as she moved closer and closer to his home, the eerie tales of Harry's apparent madness grew more abundant. Most people seemed to think that, world savior though he was, Harry was insane and a danger to those around him. It seemed to Hermione that everyone was so afraid of Harry that they had not approached or spoken to him in the three years since she had last seen him.

Hermione had assumed that these tales were largely exaggerated, but now that she stood outside of Harry's huge manor, she could see why the village people were nervous around him. A moat surrounded the house, much like the castles of the old days. Fortunately for Hermione, she was able to levitate herself over the water, seeing as how the bridge was drawn up. There were two menacing stone statues of gargoyles on either side of the door. The door itself was towering, at least eight feet tall. The knocker was a brass lion head, with a huge mouthful of teeth that looked suspiciously real. Hermione hadn't wanted to touch that, so she knocked on the door with her own hand, half expecting the lion head to bend and bite her.

The seconds turned into minutes, and there was still no answer from Harry. Hermione, feeling quite nervous and out of her league now, decided to take matters into her own hands. Slowly, Hermione reached out and put her hand on the large handle. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle. To her relief, the large door creaked open without a fuss. Gingerly, Hermione stepped over the threshold into the home, and closed the door quietly behind her.

She had seen large homes and finery before, but never had she seen a home quite like Harry's. The room she stepped into was large and open, with wood paneled floors and stained glass windows. A sweeping, stone grand staircase was directly in the center, branching off at the top into two stone balconies, which went off into opposite wings of the house. Renaissance paintings adorned the walls, and the few chairs around were medieval in appearance. The air was cold and damp, and Hermione had the impression that when she stepped through the door, she was brought back in time to the era when kings and queens ruled the world.

"Normally, when someone unwelcome enters this home, they are cursed into oblivion."

Hermione froze in her tracks. Harry's voice, so familiar yet so cold, echoed through the entire house. She could not tell where it was coming from, or if it was actually him speaking at all.

"However, it is not often that I receive visitors such as you, Hermione Granger. Please, take a seat."

A chair materialized in front of Hermione. It was plush and comfortable-looking, unlike the medieval furniture that surrounded the rest of the house. Hermione, however, was wary that the chair was some sort of trap. "How do I know you are not going to harm me?" Hermione asked, keeping the fear out of her voice.

Harry, wherever he was, began to laugh. His laugh was the same as it had always been, and Hermione was slightly comforted by this. "I will not hurt you, but neither will I let you go without an explanation. Why did you chose now to come here, out of the many times before when you could have come and apologized?"

She lifted up her chin indignantly, and sat down in the chair, crossing her legs. "I am not here to apologize for a crime I did not commit, Harry Potter. Rather, I am here to ask for the help of an old friend when I need it."

"And why would a witch such as you need any help? Certainly the esteemed Professor of Charms, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, knows how to handle tough situations. I, merely a lonely wizard in an empty home, cannot be of any help to you."

Hermione coughed. "Harry, you know very well that you are the infamous Boy-Who-Lived. Who else would I come to when I had a problem that involves Dark Magic and evil lords?"

"Perhaps you would go to the beloved Ron Weasley, who you seem to turn to for all of your problems." With those menacing words, Harry appeared before Hermione, green eyes blazing. She was shocked by his appearance, for it seemed that he had grown and changed almost completely in the three years since she had seen him. He was taller, and more muscular, with biceps that could easily be seen underneath his simple green shirt. His face was more chiseled and handsome than it had been, and he looked as if he was well fed and cared for. Even Harry's hair was changed, still unruly, but different. His eyes however, his brilliant emerald eyes, remained just the same as they had always been; beautiful and blazing with emotion.

"Ron is married, Harry," Hermione said simply, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "He married Luna Lovegood two years ago."

Harry smiled nastily. "Well then. Now that that is out of the way, let's get down to business."