Harry Potter: Of Elves and Magic

Disclaimer: You all know that I own nothing but the new things, so I’m not going to bother with putting this at the beginning of every chapter. I’m not even going to put an authors note at the end of each chapter, unless there’s something important to tell you about. J.K Rowling and Warner Bro’s own Harry Potter, but rumour has it that he’s trying to escape the corporations and live peacefully outside the lime light… But I doubt it. Remember: I own nothing but my computer and this fic.

Authors Note: Okay, I have the story all written up and I will upload two chapters every other day. Hope you like, I really spent a lot of time on this (though I’m sure some smarmy bum will write that it seems rushed). Please remember to read and review, love everyone who does! (except the guys, me straight, I’m pleased to say.)

~Thor

Chapter 1: To Mrs. Figg’s House

Harry Potter stared out the window of the smallest bedroom in number four Privet Drive at the maelstrom of rain, thunder and lightning that attacked the small suburban street along with the rest of the country. It was dark out, but he could see the foul weather thanks to the streetlights that lined either side of the road.

There was a reason for it to be dark. That reason was that it was still only three in the morning and the sun wasn’t due to rise for at least another three hours.

Harry sighed, his breath leaving a misty layer on top of the glass pane. He couldn’t sleep; he hadn’t been able to do so properly since the end of his last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Again, there was a reason for this. Several, actually. First, at the end of his previous year at school, he had watched his friend, Cedric Diggory, die at the hands of the most evil man… evil thing in the universe, who (second) had risen again that very night, and had then (third) begun torturing Harry and then, after a piece of magic Harry had never learned of, (fourth), Harry had seen his parents, his friend Cedric and several other people who had been killed by Voldemort, almost live again for one brief period. And the authorities didn’t believe him.

Harry retreated from the window to his desk and sat down into the chair. Several pieces of parchment were scattered on the desk that his cousin Dudley had never used (because Dudley never did his homework), along with some quills and an inkbottle. Most of the parchment was made up of his homework (which, for once, had been completed at the beginning of his holidays), apart from a few that were letters from his friends and headmaster. He picked out all the letters and started to re-read them all.

Dear Harry.

I’m sorry, but Dumbledore hasn’t said you can stay with us this summer yet, but I’m sure he will, so don’t worry. You’ll be here getting you butt kicked at chess in no time, ok? Anyway, I know your probably beating yourself up about Cedric’s death, but don’t, ok? I know that hardly anyone knows about what happened in the maze, including me and Hermione, but I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. Anyway, I hope to see you soon,

Ron.

PS

Ginny says hi.

Harry put Ron’s letter down and picked up Hermione’s.

Dear Harry.

I thought you should now that I’m leaving to see Viktor in a week, and I’ll write and tell you what Bulgaria is like. I’m so sorry that Dumbledore hasn’t given you permission to go to Ron’s for the summer yet, but don’t give up hope, you’ll get there sometime this summer. I hope your well and that you’re not thinking that it’s your fault that Cedric is no longer with us. Please try to have some fun.

Love, Hermione.

He then picked up his most recent letter (which he had received that very day) from his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

Dear Harry.
I regret to inform you that I have decided against letting you stay with the Weasley’s this summer, as it would put both you and them in danger. I must also ask that you not go to Diagon alley this summer either. I will send you your school supplies by Muggle post tomorrow. You will also be returning to Hogwarts early this year along with some of your school friends for advanced training over the summer that will last through most of your school year. The exact details will accompany your supplies. See you at school,

Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry dropped the letters back onto the table and went to his bed. Sleeping was the last thing he wanted to do, but his eyes began to droop and, as he lay himself onto the mattress, he fell asleep…

Harry’s eyes were shut, and he was on his knees. He kept his eyes shut, for what, he did not know.

“Harry?” The voice was clear and strong. Harry couldn’t remember who owned the voice, but it was definitely male, and very familiar. He opened his eyes and got to his feet. As he took in his surroundings, he dropped back to his knees again. The graveyard had not changed since he had last seen it. It was frozen in time, almost as if he were in a photograph. “Why, Harry?” the voice asked. It came from behind him, so Harry stood slowly and turned to face the person asking the question.

Harry looked at the one that had addressed him and felt a tear roll down his cheek. Cedric Diggory, or at least his ghost, was in front of him. He was partially transparent and hovering about two inches off the ground.

“Cedric?” Harry asked the ghost, who ignored the question.

“Why?” he said again. He was starting to sound very sorrowful and almost angry. “Why did you lead me to my death? What could you possibly want from my death? Your famous, your rich, what could my death gain you?” Harry was trembling now, but tried to keep himself from crying. “It was her…wasn’t it?” Harry bowed his head. He tried to say that it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t. To do so would be lying. “You couldn’t accept that Cho was with me, could you?” Harry turned away to shield himself from the questions. Unfortunately, something much worse awaited him.

Cho Chang sat weeping next to a gravestone marked “CEDRIC DIGGORY”. Harry wanted to comfort her, but as he moved towards her she looked straight at him and started screaming.

“I HATE YOU HARRY POTTER!” She was still crying, but the screaming made Harry stop in his tracks. He looked at her, his own tears falling, but she didn’t seem to care. “YOU KILLED THE ONLY MAN I LOVED! I HATE YOU!”

Harry awoke with a start, sweating and panting. He jumped out of bed and rubbed his eyes. He found it odd that he was not wearing his glasses, as he had not taken them off when he went to sleep. They were on his bedside table, just as he would have put them there, except he didn’t. Currently, his door was locked as to stop rude pranks from Dudley while Harry was “Sleeping”, so this ruled out the possibility of someone removing them during his sleep-not that the Dursely’s would have done.

Harry went down and went downstairs to cook breakfast for his aunt and uncle, who would be waking up in half an hour’s time. He did this every morning, as most nights he didn’t sleep anymore, afraid for what awaited him in the dark recesses of his mind. Painful memories of his last year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry plagued his days and haunted his nights. Doing tasks for his aunt kept his mind busy and away from the thoughts of the cemetery.

After a grunt as way of morning greeting from his uncle and a scowl from his aunt, Harry awaited his chores for the day. His aunt, looking outside, wrinkled her nose at the typical British summer weather.

"You'll have to do the gardening tomorrow," she said to him. "The rose bushes need weeding and some snipping to make them a little more attractive. Today you can- hey!" she jumped from her chair and followed him as he made his way to the front garden and started to do the tasks he had been set. His aunt watched him, rather bewildered for a few seconds and then left the window to compile a shopping list for the next day.

The rain drenched Harry very quickly, and his shirt clung to his body becoming skintight. But he didn’t mind at all. He just continued gardening as if it was blue skies above him. He didn’t realise he was being watched from across the road.

A girl of about the same age as Harry was watching him through curious eyes. She had long blonde hair that reached her waist and eyes of the deepest blue. Her skin was deeply tanned, despite the typical weather, and her face didn't have any spots or blemishes what so ever. She watched Harry for a few more seconds with the same bewilderment as Mrs. Dursely had, and then started running to escape the rain. She ran two more streets down and then to a house half way up, rang the bell and waited.

An elderly woman holding a ginger cat opened the door. She smiled widely when she saw the young girl.

"Hello, Annabelle dear," she said, letting her in. "Do come in before you catch a cold…" Annabelle moved inside and took off her large coat and hung it on the rack next to the door.

"Thanks, aunt Arabella," she said, smiling back. "I'm going to go upstairs and change into something dry. See you in a minute…" she bounded up the stairs and opened the door to the guest room. She dropped her heavy backpack onto the bed and started unpacking.

Harry finished the gardening just in time for lunch (bread and cheese with some water), and then washed the dishes, swept the floors and dusted the house from top to bottom. His aunt gave him the rest of the day off after he had done all this, so he went to his room and read his old transfiguration book until dinner, after which he read some more. He did not sleep at all that night, and kept reading until six in the morning, when he went downstairs and started breakfast for his aunt and uncle. They gave their usual greeting and soon after Vernon had left for work, the doorbell rang and Harry's aunt answered it.

"Special delivery for Mr. Harry Potter," said a deep and unfamiliar voice. Harry came to the door and signed for his parcels and then carried them up to his room.

The chores for the day weren't as demanding as the day before, and Harry was finished them all by lunch. The weather had not improved since the day before, and Harry decided to go to his room and read some of the books he had just received. On top of these, though, was a letter from Dumbledore. It read:

Dear Harry.

As you know, you cannot stray too far from Privet drive this year, because of Voldemort’s return. Also because of this, you will be coming to school early this year, to be precise, the first day of August for an extra month of schooling. Please be on the train at kings cross for this date, usual time of departure. A car from the ministry will pick you up at nine o'clock sharp on that day. Please bear in mind that you will begin serious training in defence and everything you will need if you encounter Voldemort again. I will greet you when you arrive at the castle. Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger and several others are also going to be at Hogwarts early for this, but I still don't want you to meet them before hand. See you at Hogwarts,

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry placed the note back in the box and looked for a book to read. The top book was one called "Magic Most Foul" by Jacquelyn Hammond. He opened and began to read his new Defence against the dark arts book.

By the next morning, he had finished "Magic Most Foul" and had started reading his potions book. The day carried on like most of the others so far; he cooked breakfast and cleaned the house, etc. But today was different. Harry's aunt seemed to be getting ready for something and at five in the afternoon, she told him why.

"We are going to a dinner with some of Vernon’s work clients," she told him as she walked around looking for something. "You won't be coming, you'll be staying with Mrs. Figg for the night." She picked up some hair gel for Dudley and took it to his room for him.

When Dudley appeared, he was wider and fatter than ever before and was almost asleep. He had been out allot this summer with friends, coming back at ungodly hours every morning. Harry didn't know what he was doing, and frankly, he didn’t care. Vernon came home at about six and hustled his family into the car and locked the door to the house so Harry could not go back in. Harry had sent Hedwig to stay with Ron for a while and so all he took with him was a spare change of clothes and the new book on transfiguration that he would read when Mrs. Figg had gone to bed. He had put these into an old rucksack of Dudley's which only had one strap left.

The rain was still going strong as he made the short journey to her house. Two roads down and half way up, he rang on the doorbell and waited. Mrs. Figg came to the door and let him in with a smile.

"Come in, Harry dear," she said. "Your dinner's ready." He hung his rucksack on the coat rack and went into the dinning room. He noticed that there was a girl his own age there, someone he had never seen before. He did realise how pretty she was, but his face showed no emotion. "Oh, yes, of course," Mrs. Figg said, realising Harry hadn't met Annabelle. "This is my niece, Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Harry." She began serving the food out to the two teenagers and herself. It was surprisingly good for Harry, as Mrs. Figg was never the gourmet cook before now. Harry ate it down and had seconds along with Annabelle. Mrs. Figg left the table to feed her cats and Annabelle struck up conversation.

"So, Harry," she said, eating some more, "Where do you go to school?" she studied his face for a moment. His hair covered his forehead completely and was really messy, but in a sort of attractive way. She looked at his green eyes and was almost lost in them. He was quite cute, but under his eyes were the darkest bags she had ever seen- he obviously didn't sleep very often or very much. He seemed to be thinking for a moment and then answered her question.

"St…" Harry's voice was so croaky from not speaking for so long that he had to stop and start again after clearing his throat. "St. Brutus's," he said- he didn’t want to say Hogwarts, and inside he cursed himself for not thinking of a better story. She looked puzzled by this.

"St. Brutus's…" she said, thinking for a moment. "I don't know it. Where is it?" she asked, finishing her plate.

"Up north… outside of London…" Harry finished his food and started clearing his plate from the table.

"I go to a boarding school in France," she said. "It's kinda cool, I get to learn more languages there. I speak French, Spanish and Italian fluently…" she looked startled for a moment. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm rambling…" she stopped talking and blushed. Harry noticed that she was about the same height as him, maybe a little shorter. Though this wouldn’t be so if it hadn’t been for the major growth spurt Harry had experienced over the summer so far. Harry nodded at her statement.

The evening was uneventful. Annabelle talked to Harry and tried to get him to open up, but he either didn't notice or didn't want to. He kept really quiet all evening and when Mrs. Figg announced it was bedtime and that Harry would be sleeping on the couch, Harry looked like he wasn’t bothered where he slept. In truth, he didn’t because he didn’t plan on sleeping at all. Unfortunately, he was unable to stay awake when he got onto the couch and fell straight to sleep.

He opened his eyes and was blinded by a flash of green light. When he was able to open them again, Cedric was dead. A high-pitched cackle filled his ears and Voldemort rose up from a cauldron and fired a cruciatus curse at him. He fell to the ground, pain coursing through his body in waves. He was yelling out in pain, but stopped as he started to duel with his adversary. Then the people… the ghosts… the shadows of the victims came out of Voldemort’s wand.

Annabelle woke up thirsty at about two in the morning. She crept down to the kitchen for a glass of water and was about to walk in when she heard some murmuring from the living room. Curious, she pushed the door open slightly and heard it more clearly.

"No… no more… Cedric… NO!" She walked over to the couch and saw that Harry was asleep but tossing so much that all his covers had fallen off. The streetlights from outside were shining on his face and she could see that he was sweating. "Cedric… dead… murderer… He's back!" She finally decided to wake him up, and shook him awake. He shot up and jumped away from her when he realised he was not alone.

"Relax, Harry, it's me, Annabelle," she said soothingly. "You were having a nightmare, that’s all. It's over." He nodded and put his glasses on. "What were you dreaming about?" she asked as softly as possible. Harry looked at her wildly as if she was someone distrustful, but then calmed down and picked his covers up from the floor.

“Nothing,” he said eventually. Annabelle looked at him sceptically.

“Nothing?” she asked. “Well, it must have been a very big nothing, because you were talking about it in your sleep.” He looked at her quickly.

“I-I was?” he asked. He shook his head and sat up. She sat down next to him.

"Who's Cedric?" She asked. The look he was giving her seemed to ask for an explanation. "When you were talking in your sleep… something about Cedric, dead and a- a murderer. And you said, "He's back", but I have know idea who you were talking about." Harry looked down at the floor.

“Oh…” he said. “I guess that it was just some random dream then,” Harry lied. Annabelle, far from convinced, stood up and started to leave the room.

“Right, well,” she said, turning to look at him. “If you want to talk, I’ll be happy to listen. See you in the morning.” Harry nodded and, after he had made sure she had left the room, breathed a sigh of relief.

A/N: Ok, this is the first chapter. Just a reminder, I have the whole fic ready for uploading but I’m testing the waters a little, just to see if this gets a good reception. If you have some suggestions though, I might be able to write them into a future chapter, or maybe in the sequel, which is under construction. Don’t forget to review, please no flames or ‘adverts’.

~Thor.