Date: Thu, 23 Sep 2010 02:30:14 -0300
From: TJ <fooplaya@gmail.com>
Subject: Harry Potter and the Tri-Fold Prophecy Chapter 1

Hey, this is my first ever story, so forgive me if there are any problems
with it. All the usual disclaimers apply: If you are underage, please
leave. This story will contain slash (that's m/m) with underage (in our
world at least) guys, and if this offends you, then do not blame me if you
continue reading. J. K. Rowling owns Harry and all of the other Harry
Potter characters, all other characters belong to me. No copyright
infringement is intended by this, nor am I profiting in anyway. This story
is set Post- Order of the Phoenix, and so it ***WILL CONTAIN SPOLIERS***
This will also contain spoilers of the other books as well! I am slightly
changing the story, so that it is set in more current times (Harry was born
in 1994 instead of 1980) The main story line will not have changed, but as
there will, of course, be interaction with muggles the technology will be
more familiar in current times. If you like it, hate it, or even just want
to give me an idea or whatever else, email me at fooplaya@gmail.com. I will
respond to all emails, even if it is just to thank you for writing,
however, flames will be ignored. Now without further ado, let's begin:

Somewhere in a dense forest

Flashes of light filled the sky and cries of agony and shouts of rage rang
through the otherwise silent air.  The great walls of the Citadel were
ablaze with glowing blue and white symbols, and they were pulsing
rapidly. However, as the battle around the tower raged on, the pulsing grew
less and less frequent, and the light of the symbols was slowly fading. In
the midst of such a battle, there was a small meeting, in a closed and
dimly lit room in the very centre of the citadel.

In the small room, there were a group of tall and regal looking people all
around a large obsidian table. The expressions on their faces ranged from
calm and collected, to outright panic, all the way to anger in the two
smallest and youngest looking of those assembled.

"Quickly, they are almost here!", cried the tall blond man at the head of
the table. "we haven't the time to argue, this IS what we are doing, and as
king, I order you to do as we have agreed at this conference, in a majority
vote I might add!"

"But this isn't the right way to go, we should all pool our resources and
resist them here, we are far more powerful than they are, they only beat us
in number and viciousness!", cried the much smaller form, at the right of
the king. "We can't let you all sacrifice yourselves on the hope that we
will find what we seek." The two twins were switching back and forth so
much in their speech, that it was hard to tell which one had said any one
part of their message.

"We have all agreed to this path, young one", said a woman off to the left
of the table, as she bowed deeply to the king. "My apologies, your majesty,
I have just come from the watch-tower, and the wards are about to
fall. After they fall, there will be nothing stopping the Dark Ones to
march into the Citadel, so whatever plan we choose must be put into action
quickly!"

"Yes, we have wasted enough time arguing already, my sons, this is the only
path we can take, and we only can ask the blessing of the Ancestors on our
chosen course. I am sorry to place such a burden on you at such a young
age, but I will be sending you to a man who knows almost everything there
is to know of our nation." The King looked truly old for the first time,
and his twin sons calmly accepted their father's words.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Number Four, Privet Drive

Harry awoke with a start again for the fifth, or was it sixth, time that
night. He sat up and looked around, convinced he would see the flashes of
light, or hear the crying in the streets of the city, as it felt as though
he had simply stepped into his room for a momentary respite from the
battle. However, he recovered more quickly this time: he always felt this
way after one of "those dreams". He'd been having them for a few nights
now, and they were providing shelter from the nightmares he was having with
the return of Voldemort and the death of Sirius. The dreams had been
changing every night, but the men and women (elves his heart was trying to
tell him, but no his brain wouldn't agree, as elves didn't exist, except
for house elves of course) in the dreams remained the same, and they all
seemed to be leading up to this point, the dreams were all focused on the
debates in the small room with the obsidian table, and Harry had become
accustomed to the seating and opinions of all the members in the room. All
except the king and his two sons were equal in rank, and were positioned
around the table according to their duties in the city. The night before,
all except the two twins had agreed on the course of action, however this
plan was a mystery to him, as it never was a part of any of the dreams.

Harry quickly decided to go back to sleep, to see if the dream would
continue. This time, however, it was not in the familiar city with the
Citadel in the centre. This time, he ended up in a multilevel room, with an
archway at the bottom tier of the room. The archway was slowly blowing, as
if in a calm breeze, but the air was perfectly still. Then, Sirius's face
appeared in the archway. "HELP MEEEEeeeee...." his voice was strained, but
the idea was crystal clear.

"Sirius..." Harry whispered, then "SIRIUS!!!" He began shouting; he was
running at the archway, reaching, wishing to pull Sirius from the
curtain. He neared the blowing covering, and as he did, Sirius came into
clearer focus: he was white and pale, and he had a ghostlike characteristic
about him. Harry slowed, and with a wavering voice called, "Sirius...?"

Sirius began sinking back into the archway, and as he did, he called "You
have the answer among you, find me..." Then he was gone, leaving only his
water-filtered voice echoing through the still room.

Harry woke with a start once again, but this time he had no desire
whatsoever to return to sleep. This dream was another he had had repeatedly
in the week since he returned to the Dursley's, and it always filled him
with the urge to be ill.  Suppressing this urge, he decided that he would
do something useful with his time and pack, as he was leaving to go to the
Burrow for the rest of the summer later that day. His summer so far would
have been almost pleasant, if it hadn't been for the fact that Sirius was
dead, and Harry believed it was entirely his fault for being too stupid to
learn Occlumency. The Dursleys had mostly ignored him this year, which was
perfectly fine with him, as he wasn't much in the mood for company of any
kind, especially not with his relatives. He had spent much of his time in
his room, simply staring at the ceiling, or walking aimlessly through the
community, trying to drown out his guilt and shame.

He had been writing frequently with Lupin, Ron and Hermione, and he was
feeling that if he could just move on, he would be much better off this
year than he had been in a while. He had discussed his dreams with Lupin,
and he agreed they were unusual, but could offer no insight into the
matter. At the top of the list of strange occurrences this summer, however,
were not his dreams, but instead the many exploding objects in his
vicinity. Whenever he would get upset or particularly emotional random
objects began to explode. He had tried to use Lumos once, as it was easier
than turning on the lights and was the one bit of magic he was permitted to
perform, but he had nearly blinded himself with its intensity, and a beam
of light had nearly melted through his school trunk. Lupin again was upset
by this development, but other than assuring Harry that he would be in
contact with some of his sources and advising Harry to not use any magic
whatsoever, he was again no help. Harry felt like his entire world was
crashing around him, and his two previous comforts, magic and Sirius, were
now beyond his reach.

As he wandered around and picked items up and set them down again, he found
the mirror given to him by Sirius. The mirror that could have been used to
prevent all of this, the mirror that he could have contacted Sirius with at
any time... Any time he was alive, Harry thought bitterly. If only I hadn't
been so stupid... if only I had waited and taken the time to think things
through... such thoughts ran wild through his mind, and he sat down heavily
on his bed, cradling his head in his hands. Why do these things always
happen to me? Why am I the one that is always targeted by misfortune? But
he already knew the answer to these questions. He was targeted because of a
prophecy. A prophecy that drove Voldemort to seek out Harry and try to
destroy him when he was a child... a prophecy that dictated that he must
either murder, or be murdered in turn. THAT is why his parents are dead,
THAT is why Cedric is dead, and THAT is why Sirius is dead. Killed
protecting him, or simply for being there. He seemed to be good at that,
getting people killed. Despite this, the wizarding world still considered
him a hero. Some hero he was, he didn't even do anything.

By this time, tears were falling freely, and despair was slowly creeping
in. Depression was settling in, and it didn't seem like it wanted to go
anywhere any time soon. He was even debating simply marching up to the
Death Eaters and demanding to be brought before Voldemort, so he could
finally end it all.  As he was falling deeper and deeper into darkness, a
small voice in the back of his head spoke up. "Don't give in, we will beat
this, you'll see, things get better with time." Great, now I'm depressed
AND hearing voices in my head... The voice had seemed so familiar
though... if only he could think: where had he heard that voice before?

______________________________________________________________________________

"Severus, what do you have to tell me" asked a silky smooth voice, with a
hint of a snake's hiss.

"My Lord, I have finally succeeded in obtaining the position of Defence
Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year." he said this quietly,
yet you could not mistake the joy in his voice. "Dumbledore seems to think
he can finally trust me enough to the young ones to defend themselves from
you", he added the last with a small chuckle.

"Yes, this is news of the best sort indeed. Harry Potter and those who
oppose me would do well to be taught by you. Perhaps, if you can continue
to go undetected by that old fool you can even sway some of the students to
our way of thinking..." He left his thought unfinished, Professor Snape
knew what that meant, convincing them had nothing to do with it, the
Imperius Curse was the favoured method of "convincing" among the Death
Eaters.

"As you wish, my Lord." Snape bowed low while turning to leave.

"Oh, Severus, do remember, if any harm befalls any of the Mudbloods in your
classroom, it would be a most tragic accident, I'm sure." Voldemort
continued to talk in his calm quiet voice, the words rolling off as if they
were blending in to the air.

"Of course, my Lord." And with that, Severus Snape turned and walked out of
the room, his robes billowing around him in his stride.

______________________________________________________________________________

 Well, I think that's enough for one chapter, the next one will be out
soon, and don't forget, all emails will be responded to, so give me some
encouragement at fooplaya@gmail.com. Even constructive (or not so
constructive) criticism is welcomed. If you are going to email me, please
use the story's title as the subject line so that I know it is not spam.
Also, if anyone is interested, I could use an editor. If you are good at
finding grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, email me with the subject
line: (Story Title) + Editor.

The crazy player, fooplaya.