Crossover

Chapter 2:
Harry Potter

style='mso-tab-count:1'> Harry Potter was not a normal boy. He
wasn’t even a normal wizard. There was one particular thing that remembered to
everyone who saw him just how different he was: a long scar, shaped like
lightning, that marred his forehead. The brand that declared him Boy-Who-Lived.
The mark that announced his curse to everyone who cared to look.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> At the moment, Harry slept, dreaming of
things long past, of the present, of the future.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> An amber eyed woman doinmethmething
forbidden, a staff in her hands, a child at her feet.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> A picture burning, five boys in uniform
in it clearly visible.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> The view of space from some sort of
shuttle, a battle raging around the frail ship.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> Neville and Malfoy, lying side to side,
fast asleep on a dirty floor.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> A woman, with long red hair and very
long fangs, in her hands the blood of the innocent.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> A soft voice, calling as if from far
away, telling him that what blood begins, blood can also end.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> The dream changed to the now usual
visions of Voldemort enjoying himself by killing muggles and wizards alike,
and, with one painful struggle, Harry woke up.

style='mso-tab-count:1'> Jade eyes looked around their tired
owner, quickly showing that the room was juts as he had left it before going to
bed. With a sigh, Harry turned on the flashlight that he kept under his pillow
and opened the small book he had left on the desk by his bed. In it he had
recorded every single dream he had had during the summer, in hopes that later
inspection (when he were a little calmer and a lot more awake) would give him some
sort of clue as to what was the meaning of his most recent nightmare.

lang=EN-US>It had begun a little while after arriving to Privet Drive, and it
always came before his visions of his parents’ murderer and his would-be
killer.

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lang=EN-US>It was the first time that a dream of his hadn’t changed with time.
It was always the same: the succession of images ant then the voice (which he
believed belonged to a woman) telling him that one single phrase.

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lang=EN-US>His eyes turned towards the far wall and he sighed again, this time
in contentment, as he remembered that there were only three more days until his
return to Hogwarts.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>Tomorrow he would go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys in order to
get school supplies, and the day after that he would be back to the place he
considered his home.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>Five am. Two hours until the Dursleys woke, and he didn’t feel like
going back to sleep. He had finished his homework the night before, so that was
out. Hedwig was out, probably hunting for some tasty (at least in her opinion)
mouse for her own breakfast. The thought of his faithful owl brought back to
memory the present he had received from his godfather, Sirius. It was a slim
black book, completely innocent looking. And yet, it was anything but.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>Simply titled “The Animagui Transformation”, it had turned out to be
the book from which his own father (and Sirius, of course) had learned
everything about how to become an Animagui.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>He had already told his best friends about it, and both Ron and
Hermione were all but dying to get their hands on it.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>He couldn’t keep back a smile as he pictured their excited
expressions. He was dying to try it himself, so he empathized with them.

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lang=EN-US>The book though, cautioned anyone that dared to attempt the
transformation to learn first several spells and quiet a bit of information
before going for it.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>As Sirius had also cautioned him about it, they had decided to (for
the first time in their lives) take it easy and do things with some caution.
After all, if caught, they would be sent before the Ministry, and considering
how Fudge was acting… better to be on the safe side.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>Several pages and a rather complicated spell (which he hadn’t
attempted, but just memorized) later, the snoring coming from uncle Vernon and
aunt Petunia’s bedroom stopped, and Harry hurried to hide both books and the
flashlight underneath the loose floorboard and began making his bed. Better be
doing something when uncle Vernon arrived. His ribs were poking out more than
enough, no use in getting another beating so close to his escape date.

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lang=EN-US>Everyone else back at Hogwarts was troubled enough as it was, for
him to drop his problems into that pile.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>At least, he would be of age in a couple of years and he wouldn’t
have to come back to Privet Drive ever again.

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laN-USN-US>Finished, he turned around to check that he wasn’t missing anything,
and his eyes came to rest on his letter from Hogwarts.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>The usual ticket and supply list, but his letter this year was quiet
a bit different.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>For one, he was told that everyone would have to retake the last
year, and he could easily guess as to why.

lang=EN-US> 

lang=EN-US>The other news were that, as the muggle war was over, the school
would be now giving admission to students from the colonies. It had been quiet
a shock to find out that there were no magical schools off planet, and he knew
that people had a lot of prejudices against colonials. But he couldn’t keep
himself from wondering what the new students would be like.