HPNS- Chapter 3

Read Chapter 2: Trio Once More here or start at the beginning

FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM

“What? What’s the matter?” Harry asked in a hoarse whisper, watching Hermione turn around for the tenth time.

“It’s nothing… I just feel like we’re being followed”, Hermione replied looking back again, as they hurried on.

“Keep up the both of you, this ain’t a school trip! Blimey we’ll never get there before the other guy!” Ron said bossily, leading the way with his wand light carving tunnels in the velvet dark.

“Ron seems pretty confident that we are being followed. I haven’t seen him this excited about something since, he won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup” Harry muttered, smirking.

“It’s all gone into his head!” Hermione retorted annoyed, “Ooh look at me… I’m a Trainee Auror! Qualified to combat the Dark Arts and everything… all bigger and better than any of my brothers!”

Harry didn’t reply; he knew Ron and Hermione too well. They always seemed to be at each other’s throats but Harry had long realized that there was something much deeper between them that even they hadn’t figured out for themselves… he just had to wait for something…

They quickened their pace as the passage soon led to another large furnished room. It had a Serpentine feel to it, with the statues and figurines. There was a particularly large sculpture of a python made of porcelain. In spite of himself, Harry had to appreciate the ornate and fine scales of the python, curving as sinuously as the body itself. Its mouth was wide open enough to swallow him whole, and the sculpted fangs were dripping with porcelain venom.

Suddenly a sharp pain shot through Harry’s scar and he shivered. The eyes of the python glinted with evil.

“Typical.” Harry thought to himself.

There were figures of other exotic creatures he had never seen before; the one immediately to his left was surely that of a Manticore. Harry remembered having read of them while he had searched for cases to acquit Buckbeak during the Hippogriff trial in their third year. A frightening description that he recalled clearly, was sketched by a Roman wizard in the second century, who had drawn his account from works written seven hundred years earlier-

There is in India a wild beast, powerful, daring and as big as the largest lion, of a red colour like cinnabar, shaggy like a dog, and in the language of India it is called Martichoras. Its face however is not that of a wild beast but of a man, and it has three rows of teeth set in its upper jaw and three in the lower; these are exceedingly sharp and larger than the fangs of a hound. Its ears and hands also resemble a man’s except that they are larger and shaggy; its eyes are ice blue and they too are like a man’s, but its feet and claws, you must know are that of a lion. To the end of its tail is attached the sting of a scorpion, and this might be over a cubit in length, and the tail has stings at intervals on either side. But the tip of the tail gives a fatal sting to anyone who encounters it, and death is immediate…

The

A few feet from the Manticore was a gargantuan statue of a creature that Hermione identified as a Chimera. Its glass eyes glinted as though following their movements and it was so huge that it nearly covered most of the room, with dragon- like scaly wings, large enough to carry the whole Weasley family upon them.

Hermione stepped up to the Glass Chimera and looked straight into its face, while Ron and Harry followed. She examined the image up and down and let out a small exclamation.

“Its thumb is missing… look! And look there, I’ll bet that door will open for us to move forward if I insert the thimble on it” she said, fishing out the silver object from her pocket.

Harry glanced at the silver thimble in her hand, and something stirred yet again in his memory… he just couldn’t place it at that moment.

Hermione placed the thimble in the space where a thumb should have been in the Chimera. It jumped to life. Harry, Ron and Hermione backed away rapidly when they saw it unfurl its wings and emit a gut wrenching shriek.

“RON! HARRY! Take the passage and go ahead! This was my task, I’ll stall it!” shrieked Hermione.

Ron moved towards her instead but even before he could grab her arm, the creature spread it skeletal wings and grabbed hold of Hermione’s collar, lifting her up in the air.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” thought Harry, trying to disarm the horrific creature and failing to attempt non-verbally. Instead he caught Hermione’s wand in his hands, while she yelled at him in frustration.

Ron gave up all pretence and hurled a rare collection of complicated hexes at the creature that bounced off its glass frame. One of the hexes was badly aimed and cut right through Hermione’s arm while she screamed, suspended in mid air, rendered helpless without a wand.

“WILL THE BOTH OF YOU GIVE UP YOUR HEROICS, I’M IN MORE DANGER OF BEING SAVED BY YOU THAN BEING EATEN ALIVE!” she bellowed, before apparating straight out of the Chimera’s fumbling talons.

The creature circled them, making terrible predatory noises while they gathered around Hermione who mended her bleeding arm with her restored wand. Ron held her around the shoulder and apologized profusely. Harry heard loud swishing noises behind him and saw that he was to be the Chimera’s next target. It dived with its jaws set and wide open, ready to digest Harry into mince.

Before he could raise his wand, Ron was ready and bellowed clearly “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Surprisingly, the spell did not bounce off the lunging creature, but caused it to burst into smithereens.

Harry and Hermione slowly turned their gaze away from the million sharp splinters of glass in the air, to Ron who still had his wand arm raised.

He was heaving after having performed the worst Unforgivable Curse, in their presence for the first time.

“Boy! You really mean business! Since when has the “Avada Kedavra” been at your wand-tips? Let me guess, was it the second semester of Auror training?” Hermione asked Ron sarcastically, panting for breath.

But before he could retort, the figure of the Manticore, behind Harry let out a growl.

“Quick the both of you run through the door! I’ll take care of all of them! GO!” Hermione screamed turning her raised wand to face the savage creature. They didn’t disobey her, both were aware of how good she was at incantation and how their lack of coordination the last time, had only caused more trouble.

And, it had occurred to Harry that they might need to conserve their energies and lives for the next two objects…

“We shouldn’t have left her… they’ll make a right dish of her and eat her up. She was still bleeding wasn’t she?” Ron asked taking a last look at Hermione who was dueling the Manticore.

Neither spoke as they made headway through yet another passage. The walls were decorated with portraits of the previous inhabitants of the castle… all of whom seemed to be part of an extended Slytherin dynasty. Harry reckoned this had been the property and treasures of the Gaunts before they had begun wars with each other, and groups of the family had been disinherited.

Harry couldn’t make out Ron’s expression in the dim light of the torches. He felt the same way as he had at the Third Task at the Triwizard Tournament.

‘One down…’ he thought.

Soon he and Ron found themselves facing a beautifully carved door, which they opened silently. Ron looked back once, as though to check if they were still followed. No one could be seen…

This room was a lot less ostentatious than the last one… there were no creatures here. It looked more like an alcove instead of an actual room. Furnished simply, there was only a large empty space of wall facing them. An authentic rug right before it and a fireplace in the corner was all that the room had.

“Blimey a lot quieter here ain’t it? What do you reckon now Harry?” Ron questioned looking around.

Without a word Harry walked up to the rug lining the wall, and casually stepped on it.

Just then, he felt as if his whole body was on fire. He would surely explode on the spot like the sting of a Blast Ended Skrewt, the pain was beyond endurance. Harry heard his own terrible screaming when suddenly an arm forcefully pushed him back. Falling on his back, he came to himself. The pain ceased and he caught his breath in sharp breaks. The little stars in front of eyes cleared.

He faintly heard Ron yell “Al…right? ...arry? F…eelin… o…kay?”

“Yeah I’m fine” he muttered back “What happened? ... RON! You’re still standing on that thing! GET OUT OF IT!”

“No Harry I figured this is it, only the pure-blood can stand on this rug. Sorry ‘bout that mate. But how are we going to move forward if you can’t stand on it? If you could fly right over it…” Ron finished, peering at Harry to check if he was feeling fine.

“Take that vial of blood and splatter it on the wall. Look! It’s got hinges in that crack. It’ll swing open with its deposit of blood. Don’t worry about me, just- do- it” Harry said, wiping the spit on his mouth with his sleeve and keeping his wand poised for any nasty surprises.

Ron opened the tiny bottle of blood, and with a quick motion, flicked its contents across the blank wall. The blood melted into the other side of the wall. As soon as the last drop of it vanished, the rug beneath Ron gave way into a deep gap.

The last Harry saw of Ron, was his mop of red hair vanishing into the darkness. His scream made the castle walls reverberate…

‘Two down…’ thought Harry ominously.

Harry could hear his own heavy breath echoing as he progressed rapidly into the next dark passage. This time it was moving higher, towards a greater altitude. His mind was numb with the thought of the both of them … they couldn’t both be dead.

He could only pray that Hermione was still alive; but judging by what the Chimera had single-handedly managed to do, he wasn’t quite sure. As for Ron he hadn’t the remotest idea as to where he was, or how deep the drop had been. Whether he was injured or unconscious… or in some fresh peril… Harry’s heart banged against his chest. He had lost two of the closest things to his heart for the horcrux. They had been enjoying tea together just a few hours back, but now…

Without further thought, Harry opened the door before him, this time quite alone… or so he thought.

He was up the tallest tower of the castle. The coffined air was suffocating, and Harry coughed loudly, clearing the dust with his wand. And then he saw it… right before him. A long dark wooden table upon which was placed, the handsome case he had seen in Dumbledore’s memory… the case that had belonged to Hepzibah Smith. It glowed in the dark, a gloomy green shade. Harry took out from his pocket, the key he had taken from the shelf and examined it in the faint light, lost in deep dilemma.

“ACCIO KEY!” yelled a husky voice right behind Harry.

The object flew clean out of Harry’s fingers into the hands of another hand… the owner of which had been tailing Harry, Ron and Hermione ever since they solved the puzzle.

Harry wheeled around in the spot where he stood. He found himself before a face he had seen many years ago. Except that the man was hidden behind a skull-like mask… a Death-Eater.

Walden Macnair.

The name rolled across Harry’s mind… battling the Manticore wouldn’t have been a problem for this man, he used to kill them for a profession- Walden Macnair of the Committee for Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. Harry, Ron and Hermione had seen him when he had come to Hogwarts to execute Buckbeak. He had been a Death Eater then, and was certainly a Death Eater now. As if to tease Harry into confirming his thoughts, Macnair lifted the sleeve of his arm, revealing the Dark Mark… and licked the skin across it slowly and lovingly.

Macnair spoke in a harsh voice, “Master was right to be suspicious… right to keep me here in case someone came for the treasure. Master is never wrong. Do you think you and you’re ‘talented’ friends will be able to do what no one has ever been able to do? That witch Althea Smith was guarded under my Imperius Curse and when she gave you the real key, I followed you. ‘Norman Ridgeback’ indeed… I knew it was you Harry Potter. But now I have the key… and what are you going to do?” he finished with a manic gleam in his eyes.

“For a man who kills creatures for a living, you sure talk a lot” Harry replied coldly

Macnair bared a yellow grin and raised his wand, the curse right at his lips.

Harry continued to tease him back “You obviously don’t know what the ‘treasure’ is do you? Or else you would have taken it just like Regulus Black took the locket. My dear friend… that key you hold is the one I picked up from the shelf … in your own words, the fake. This key, Althea’s key, however leads you to one of Lord Voldemort’s horcruxes… a piece of his soul. The piece that I have come to destroy”

He continued to speak viciously “Or are you here to strike a bargain? Would you perhaps give me my friends back for the horcrux? The supreme control over a piece of Voldemort’s soul… you’d have him at your mercy for a change”

Harry had gone too far.

“Why you insolent little…ACCIO KEY- ACCIO- ACCIO!” Macnair yelled wildly, his face contorted with fury.

Harry deflected the spell with his wand and tried to surprise him with the Disarming charm once more, without any success.

“Madame Lestrange told me you were a tricky customer. CRUCIO!” spat Macnair with pure venom on his face.

“Well give her my regards” Harry retorted dodging the unforgivable curse.

“SECTUMSEMPRA” thought Harry, concentrating with all his might.

It worked just as it had with Draco Malfoy in his sixth year at Hogwarts, except Harry hadn’t done it intentionally then. As though cut by an invisible sword, blood spurted from Macnair’s face and torso and he crumpled to the floor. Nevertheless, he sprung to his feet almost immediately, and raised his wand in spite of his mangled remains. A long struggle between him and Harry, ensued…

“STUPEFY!” a familiar voice chanted from the doorway.

The stunning spell struck Macnair in the back and he was blasted off the spot, crashing into a bookshelf that collapsed on him.

“RON! You’re OKAY!” Harry screamed rushing towards the tall red-haired figure kneeling at the entrance to the room.

But Ron was breathing fast, his chest heaving up and down like that of a werewolf during transformation. His face and bright red hair was matted with dark blood. Ron had dragged himself up the room, leaving a gory trail of wiped scarlet in the way and his right leg looked broken at the knee. There were several cuts across his face. Before he could say anything to Harry who knelt by his side, running his fingers frantically through his own dark hair in utter helplessness, a ribbon of blood rolled down his cheek from his lips…

“No… Ron NO! Don’t die… please don’t die!” Harry yelled hysterically, watching Ron close his eyes unable to catch his breath any longer…

Read Chapter 4: Burrow'ing here

Shades of black!

He was running, running, endlessly and without pause. He knew not where he was running to, not where his final destination was, not where he was at present, not where the Aurors were positioned and waiting to catch him . . . soon, he figured, he would not even know his name. But nothing really mattered to him in that moment anyway, and certainly not something as trivial as his name; for really, what had his name ever done for him? What had anyone ever done for him? What had life ever done for him, even? Strange how disjointed and yet how clear the senses and mind were at the height of adrenaline.

He ventured on, running wildly through the thickets and trees. His head was clouded, and yet his thoughts were strong as they popped out at him; his muscles ached from not being used like this in so long, and yet he could not feel the burn; his throat was parched, and yet he did not want to drink; his breathing came out in short, haggard spurts, and yet he did not stop, could not stop . . .

They were looking for him, he knew it. Not just him, all the Death Eaters. Sure, there would be trials held at the Ministry, but what in the world could he possibly say in his defense? He was guilty of the crimes, he did not regret his actions . . . all he regretted was . . . but no, he would not think of her, not now, not ever again.

The battle was over; Potter had triumphed over the Dark Lord. The thing that Rodolphus Lestrange had dreaded and feared for years, the death of his master, had finally happened. So why did he find that he did not care one whit, why was it that the penetrating hurt deep within him came not over the Dark Lord’s demise, but over someone else’s? Because it shouldn’t, he knew, it shouldn’t . . . but it did. Terribly. Wretchedly. But, no, he would not remember her, he did not need her, and even if he did, it didn’t matter, there was nothing he could do anymore . . . still, his eyes stung with bitter tears for the first time in many years as he thought of her yet again.

I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you there when I cry

He did not know how long he was running for, did not care how long he ran, though this was not saying much seeing as he did not care about anything more . . . but eventually, he reached a destination, a destination he knew very well. And though he had not planned to, he went inside.

The house was just as it always was: dark, impressive, grand. He should know: it was his very own house, after all. But it felt different, somehow, knowing that it was just his house now, and not theirs.

He knew it was stupid to stay here. This would most likely be the first place the Ministry looked for him, after all. But he found that, just like everything else now in his life, he did not care if they found him or not. Would life really be so much better on the run than it would be in Azkaban? Might as well just stop here for a bit, get a few hours sleep. So he went up the stairs, his stairs, and fell onto the bed, his bed, pulling the covers around him. The singular possessive of the items made him feel strangely hollow again, and his eyes stung irritably once more. He wiped them with the back of his hand roughly, rolled over, and somehow managed to fall asleep despite his heavy thoughts. Well, he was very tired: servants of the Dark Lord did not have the most regular sleep patterns.

Continued here

What next ?

That's what all of us potter-maniacs have been asking ever since July 2007. I mean what purpose is there in life now that the Harry Potter book series is done with? The answer is- the Harry Potter movie series! There are still two of them left, and hopefully they wont be as pathetic as the rest, now that Daniel Radcliffe is all grown up. My favorite, of course, is Rupert Grint. What say you?

This video is rather boring....rants on about the "new" Quidditch robes and Tom's orphanage...but really, we have to wait till November next year for the real thing so this is okay for the time being, I guess...

(oh, by the way, how is this for an official welcome???)

HPNS - Chapter 2

Read Chapter 1: Reunion here

TRIO ONCE MORE

“REDUCTO!” bellowed Harry blowing away another obstruction. Moving forward fast, he wondered how long it would take Ron to get his owl, and for him to get there with Hermione. He was tired of making mistakes… he had underestimated Voldemort, the Dark Lord whose name was rarely spoken without trepidation… it was his powers that Harry shared- The Chosen One.

The mission that Dumbledore had left him involving finding and destroying the horcruxes, was not proceeding as successfully as Harry had hoped. The one thing achieved however, was Slytherin’s locket. Twelve months past, Harry had finally discovered the mystery of R.A.B, bringing him closer once again, to the Black Family. It had been Regulus Arcturus Black, Sirius’ younger brother who had stolen the original locket and tried to destroy the others. But Harry had learnt from Sirius himself, four years ago that Regulus had been killed, while he was still in the service of Lord Voldemort. The locket was found with Kreacher, the Black family house elf whose thieving habits and retention of many Black Family heirlooms, had finally paid off. Hermione recalled having seen a locket that they couldn’t open when Grimmauld Place was being made fit to be the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Immediately after, a savage raid of the house was conducted by Ron, Harry and Hermione and they found the locket beneath piles of Kreacher’s possessions. Kreacher had gone over to the side where his allegiance lay, and had left hexes and protective charms around Grimmauld Place. In the process of their ransack, Hermione had nearly lost a finger if it hadn’t been for Harry’s timely rescue… and so Harry came to obtain one horcrux. Dumbledore had gone however, without telling him how to destroy the cursed objects.

Meanwhile, Harry had moved on in his thirst to hunt down the others. Hufflepuff’s Cup was the next in line and Harry had spent day and night in determining an exact location for the Cup. Since Voldemort’s return and his coming of age, he was possibly in greatest danger of travel and being recognised, and thus had been shedding and taking on identities for the last couple of months. Armed with fresh stocks of Polyjuice Potion and his Cloak, Harry’s movements across Europe were as stealthy and watchful as his nemesis.

But recent events had proved that stealing the cup would be impossible without company. Ron and Hermione were the only people he trusted with his life, and he regretted not having contacted Ron for the past week, wondering if he was taking this as seriously as he should. How fast would Hedwig get there? Would Ron be at his apartment at all?

Lost in his thoughts, he missed a Doxy that flew right at him. Harry muttered a jinx that took care of it and quickly went up the steps of the castle.

During his progress upwards Harry heard many voices in his head. They whispered in a strange language he could not understand… it was not Parseltongue but Harry was certain that these were not human voices…

He felt a strange urge to open a door towards the left of the passage, but thought better of it. And then suddenly he heard something that made him jump.

Three slow successive knocks from the other end of that door…

Harry raised his wand and pressed his ear to the door. There was nothing to be heard. And then, almost exactly where his ear was placed on the wood, he heard sharp knocking again. It was not the sound of flesh and bone knocking against the wood, but Harry distinctly heard sharp talons. There was something cold and inhuman in the rhythm of the knocks that resounded in every corner of his brain, hypnotising him.

Pulling himself away from the door, he continued his progress forward. Instinct told him to proceed straight ahead without taking any shortcuts or doors, with the key he possessed. How Harry had managed to get the key was another adventure altogether…

It was only the day before that Harry had met Althea Smith of Dwight Manor, Hepzibah Smiths’ cousin twice removed, who had inherited the fortune she had left behind. Althea Smith had noticed the cup of Hufflepuff in its case missing, when the objects were being added to her property.

“I would have done anything to get the cup… it was Hepzi’s greatest treasure and an important family heirloom. And now it’s gone” Harry could recall Althea wave her hand imperiously.

There really was a thin line between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. The scene repeated itself fifty five years later, where similar powers of conviction managed to get Harry what he needed most. Under the alias of ‘Norman Ridgeback’, he had received from Althea, the key to open the case which Lord Voldemort had inadvertently forgotten. However, Harry knew him better, and supposed that the key would not be enough to get the cup… after all Professor Dumbledore had lost a hand in his attempt to destroy Slytherin’s ring… and Harry was no way as skilled as Dumbledore had been. He wondered what he would have to lose to get the cup…

Harry continued along the dark passage and was forcibly reminded of the route to the Department of Mysteries, three years back. A congruent panging thirst to move ahead and discover filled him... this however, was no nightmare and Harry could clearly sense the musty smell of the old, abandoned castle. There were dark scratches on the tapestry of the walls as though some vicious and uncontrolled beast had walked the same steps he was taking. The ambience was just as that of the Shrieking Shack… silence, that was so absolute and real, Harry could imagine cutting it with a knife.

Upon entering a large antechamber decorated lavishly, he found himself facing a large shelf with a roll of parchment in the corner. On the shelf were placed a collection of strange objects. One of them Harry identified as a spindly instrument he had seen in Dumbledore’s office in his fourth year. Another was a small vial of a scarlet substance, which looked like blood. The third was a silver thimble, but it was the last object that disturbed Harry.

A key… one that looked exactly like the one he held in his hand, the one he had fished out from Althea Smith. The question was… which one was the fake.

Suddenly, he heard a faint noise behind him. He covered himself up with the Cloak, wondering how effective it would prove against this adversary. His wand arm was raised in tremulous anticipation and he waited… there were footsteps accompanied by the same whispering. Harry’s mind went blank, except for the image of some large horrific beast.

The door that he had shut behind him silently swung open… but there was nothing to be seen, felt or heard in the air. Harry usually relied on his intuition that told him that someone or something was in the room. Was it invisible like him? Or perhaps a magical creature that Hagrid had never mentioned, or worse, never encountered before.

And then Harry saw it… he breathed a sigh of relief.

“We have got to stop doing this mate!” Ron said breathlessly “You scared the living daylights out of us… Hermione saw footprints on the carpet, and I swear I was praying it was you… but how did you know it was us?”

Harry couldn’t help grinning… the warmest feeling flooded him after having felt so cold for a long time. It was like a gush of a hot Butterbeer, something he associated with the happy memories of Ron and Hermione and Hogsmeade.

“I saw your trainer… I think the cloak must have slipped off a bit from your foot. Then I knew it was you guys under Moody’s Cloak”.

“That’s really dangerous!” Hermione wailed, “what if we weren’t facing Harry? Ron I told you to be careful under it! It’s always your foot that gives us away!”

“That’s NOT fair you can’t generalize the fact! How many times have we done this anyway? Wait! Don’t answer that” Ron said, admitting defeat.

“How did you guys get here so quick?” Harry asked in an urgent whisper.

“Hedwig got there with your letter just as I was leaving Ron’s place. We set off at once to the castle here. Some locals said that they saw a man enter the gates and we hoped that it was you… I’m very glad actually that it is you” Hermione said in a low tone.

“Hang on. I went in with the Cloak on me. How could anyone have seen me?” Harry retorted.

Ron said, “Knew that this was too easy… someone else is here, plain and simple. They either followed Harry or us. They were knocking at that door, Hermione”

“What! You heard that too?” Harry exclaimed.

“Yes Harry, but we didn’t open the door, it sounded really unsettling. If there really IS someone here, then we’d better get a move on… What’s all this” Hermione asked, business-like, motioning towards the shelf.

“It’s okay… some kind of puzzle here that I can’t crack and that’s where you come in Hermione” said Harry “I was reading the scroll of parchment here…”

Hitherto shall you come, but no further shall you go,

unless, you possess what the Dark Lord does not

Friends to be loved, friends to be kept,

friends to assist you in the path you chose

There is but one true blood in magic,

one blood as old and pure as magic itself

Once besmirched, the purpose is lost, magic is lost,

and you will find faith in things unreal, futile

And yet, it is the supreme balance that will rule,

emerge as worthy of the treasure you seek,

And move forward in a quest, as impossible as the aim

only in balance, will you be the master of destiny

Ron sneered, “What DO you possess that ‘the Dark Lord does not’, Harry? Well… glasses and a decent mop of hair is all I can think of. What in the name of Merlin’s lop-sided glasses was You-know-who thinking when he came up with this?”

“Shut up… what do you make of it Hermione?” Harry asked seriously.

Hermione was lost in her world, her eyes were glazed and distant and mouth was slightly open. She walked up and down the shelf, muttering softly examining the objects as she had done nearly, seven years ago when they had been searching for the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Ron who was obviously a little bored by the proceedings, made to lift the thimble- “What’s this muggle crap?”

“Ron don’t touch it! Not…” Harry didn’t finish.

“RON! That was Brilliant! Muggle! That’s really the key word! I’ve got it” Hermione exclaimed ecstatically, absolutely beaming at Ron, who looked rather surprised that he was of any stimulating help.

“It’s pretty obvious once you’ve solved it. The first part means simply that you can’t get the horcrux alone… you need at least two people trustworthy or close. ‘One true blood in magic’, that goes without saying- ‘pure- blood’. ‘Besmirched… futile and unreal’, you can only associate words like that with Muggle blood… ‘Mud- bloods’ And of course, ‘the supreme balance’… the source of Voldemort’s power himself. He’s half- blood isn’t he? It’s only a half-blood who’ll be able to get to the Horcrux. Which is why it won’t be a problem for him at all… it all fits”. Hermione’s explanation came all at one strike to Harry.

He understood exactly what the objects were for. But what he didn’t get, was why someone like Voldemort would stress the need for friends. Dumbledore had told Harry that Voldemort preferred to work in solitude, but this was almost as if he was unhappy he didn’t have any real people to count on, none comparable to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. ‘Friends to be loved, to be kept’. The words flashed across his mind. Maybe they were really of importance here.

Ron spoke excitedly “That means that only a half-blood will be able to hold that key. Harry that’s you of course… And if we need the other stuff, I’d be able to get that bottle of blood… coz not to be rude, but I AM the pure-blood here. What if blood-traitors don’t qualify” he finished mystified at his own deductions.

“In that case, I’ll be able to pick up the thimble, being ‘mud-blood’ as I am. But how are these things going to help us Harry… was it something like this when you had gone for the locket with Dumbledore?” Hermione said

“It wasn’t much then except a couple of Inferi floating dead in the water. But this is really convenient that’s all… there’s one of us for each of the objects and that’s a bit sinister” said Harry, now looking around for further clues.

Hermione whispered “The thing is Harry, I don’t think Voldemort accounted for three people who are friends and rightly suited for the task, to be standing here looking for his horcrux the way we are. It’s just a chance occurrence that’s all… but without a doubt, we have what it requires. What’s that object?” she said pointing at the spindly instrument.

Ron replied knowledgeably “It’s a Verifier, something that checks if the solution to a problem is correct. You just have to place your solution on the panel at the bottom, and if it’s correct, it emits a puff of white smoke. Red smoke if you’re wrong. We learnt about them in the first semester of Auror training”.

The other two glared at him as though it was impossible for Ron to venture so much information.

“What? Cut me some slack you guys, even I am allowed to be of some use!” Ron retorted angrily

“Last time at the cave we had to pay with blood, maybe we have to verify our blood this time too” Harry said.

“That’s settled then… We’ll each put a drop of blood on the panel and then take the object we need to take. Better hurry if we can” Hermione said, wondering how long the silence of the castle would prevail.

They each submitted a drop of their own blood on the panel and were allowed to retrieve the objects they could rightly collect. The shelf moved forwards to reveal a long winding passage forwards. Harry, Ron and Hermione together once more, took a deep breath and went ahead with their wands raised.

Read Chapter 3: Fantastic Beasts and where to find them here

Poisonous Rose

Wotcher! Is it just another of those annoying baseless rumours or will the next shattering revelation by JK Rowling be that Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley will be dating at Hogwarts....
Hem hem.
Personally I can digest the fact that Dumbledore swings the other way, or even that Tonks and Lupin are.......... ............ sniff... dead, but I just cannot see Scorpius fall in love with Rose as that can only lead to an inevitably tragic ending! Wow I can really see all the bloodshed after Superdad Ron is finished with ickle Scorp...
And then of course Draco, will appear on the scene Lucius-like, and hold ickle Rosie captive, in return for the mangled remains of his darling boy!! haha
But since anything's possible (since Sidney Sheldon and Mills n Boon) I wouldn't mind another such scandalalous romance to keep the glorious potter legacy alive. Just like the hybrid marriage of Darcy
and Elizabeth (read Pride n Prejudice u dingbats!), and the revival of a better culture of rural simplicity with aristocratic ostentation... we will find that for the first time in history... a Slytherin marrying a Gryffindor... which is probably nice to think about in JKR's utopian ending to the book where peace and harmony exists... but c'mon!
We all know what Ron is like and even if Supermom Hermione allows them to meet each other in private, they're footsteps will probably be dogged by Ron the Sherlock... who will at the first sign of a smooch, take out his wand and do a Wormtail on poor Scorpius, except that Scorpius won't be able to escape as a rat... so he'll be dead.
Anyways... they'll make a damn cute and good-looking couple, as The Malfoys and The Weasleys were the best looking pure bloods at Hogwarts and boy what a whirwind romance is it going to be this generation!! I bet Rose and Scorpius'll even play against each other on the Quidditch house teams like Harry and Cho... making the tension even better as it'll always be Sytherin vs. Gryffindor!
Being always on Ron's side, my verdict would be 'Never go for a relationship where your passion is as beautiful as Romeo and Juliet, but the story is bound to end the same way!'

Spellbinding Videos of HP

The complete scene of Severus Snape's first Potion Lesson with Harry, filmed by Christopher Columbas. Wicked!!

The videos were uploaded from Youtube, so if you want to check out more of the scenes that unfortunately didn't make it to the Silver Screen, you could try going to-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=an3nqrEF1dE

Down below is a truly hilarious interview before the movie Order of the Phoenix released! Emma Watson, Dan Radcliffe n Rupert Grint on Moviefone's Unscripted talk show. He he Poor Rupert's damn scared of spiders and confesses that he might cry if he came near one... oh! n also that he prefers Ron dying in the last book, than having 2 kiss Hermy!!! Scandalous YAY!! enjoy

More videos coming up soon.... till then toodles! :)

Denise Cissner's fun HP Art Collection

Wotcher! DK Cissner is my favourite artist of HP Fan Art, (besides my best friend Maria) as her sketches are like Disney versions of the Harry Potter Characters! She spoofs movies as well and combines them with HP which is the best part. She's my personal favourite so I'm uploading a couple of her best works.. you can find the rest of her works at-

http://www.artisticalley.org/gallery/

So enjoy!!

Harry Potter and the Necessary Sequel- Chapter 1

Please read intro here

REUNION

It was just another sultry afternoon in June. Summer was potent in the air and the scorching sun illuminated a rather haphazardly planned row of apartments on a shoddy street in Britain. The street was silent from the absence of the usual pedestrians. The heavy silence and the heavy air were disturbed by the sudden appearance of a woman. Dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a smart blouse, the only thing eccentric about her otherwise spotless and prim attire was a crimson cloak covering her face and a mahogany twelve-inch long stick held out before her.

Hermione Granger walked up to the row of unkempt houses before her and with her wand held out whispered “Ronald Bilius Weasley, No. 23 ½ Beatrix Bloxam Lane. As though by magic, an extra apartment squeezed in the middle of two flats, number 23 and 24. They drifted apart casually without registering the slightest interference in the activities of its occupants. Hermione looked up and down Ron’s apartment making a few unconscious comparisons with her own newly acquired house. Hers was in a neighborhood that was a lot more pleasant and functional than Beatrix Bloxam Lane, but then this location was probably chosen keeping Ron’s safety in mind, especially during the war. On a personal note of course, Hermione had never known Ron Weasley to fuss over cleanliness or personal hygiene.

Taking brisk strides, she walked up to the steps leading to an old, oak door with the green paint peeling off at corners. She knocked politely, waiting for a reply, but none came. Hermione glanced anxiously at the roof of the apartment, checking for a sign… there was nothing but a heavy cloud. The Alohomora charm was just on her lips.

“Who is it?” demanded a voice from within.

“It’s me Ron- Hermione… Hermione Jean Granger”, she replied with some confidence.

The question was asked- “What did I give you for Christmas umm... four years back?”

Almost immediately came Hermione’s crisp reply- “A rather tiny but effective bottle of Madame Zuleika’s perfume collection”.

She could visualize Ron’s ears going red under the flame of his red hair. She smiled to herself before she asked- “Who would have been selected for the Griffindor Quidditch team instead of you, had I not confunded them?”

“It’s definitely you then. Nobody except Fred and George perhaps, gets as much pleasure of making an arse of me like this!” exclaimed the muffled voice angrily.

“Well then, before I get jinxed at your doorstep, answer the question Ronald!”

The door suddenly swung open and Hermione instinctively raised her wand.

“McLaggen - Mclaggen alright? Blimey lower you wand before I confund you!” barked Ron.

Hermione hadn’t seen either of Harry or Ron for several months. It had taken her a while searching for an apartment that was relatively close to The Burrow and not very far from her own parents in Wakefield. She had wondered what Ron would be like now that he was a Trainee Auror. It was more difficult to be in touch with Harry since he was strong on the hunt for Horcruxes and spent most of his time hiding. Presently, Ron mimicked a ‘welcome’ gesture at the door and she walked in. It was worse than she could scarcely imagine and looked as if it had never been cleaned. Thick layers of dust on everything… dust on the mouldy carpet, on the stray pile of books, on the tumble of old cloaks and hats. Pigwidgeon’s cage looked as if it was flooded with droppings, and evidently the little occupant was missing. Hermione could not suppress a large shudder that passed through her, and looked up at Ron’s worn out face next to her.

“Of course it’s been a while since I cleaned up. Hardly have the time to come home and sleep, but I’ll take care of it, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be. You’re still in touch with Dobby right? Actually any house-elf would do, it would only take one night to clear this up, if you could lend me an elf” Ron said slyly, completely aware of the reaction his words would invoke.

He watched Hermione swing around on her feet; draw herself up to her fullest height.

“You will do no such thing. I am willing to personally help you clean out this rubbish, but I will not have you mock me or my job!” she screamed.

“Well YOU started it with the questions. And it’s really beyond me what you’re doing anyway. NO ONE gives a bloody duck about house- elves during the war. Who knows they might even survive it coz’ no one cares” Ron finished with a derisive snort.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, when she suddenly stopped at the sight of him. Ron looked as tall and lanky as she had last seen him with the same freckles, but somehow stronger and more powerful. Even though he was as old as her, eighteen, he looked more attractive, manly and very much similar to Bill Weasley, his eldest brother, without the horrible scars of course….

His bright red hair fell onto his forehead as though he hadn’t bothered for a trim, and she thought his clothes looked a little shabby, nevertheless appealing. She could see his sinewy freckled forearms, through the thin white sleeves. Hermione wanted to run her fingers through his hair and touch his cheek.

She might have stared impolitely for too long, as Ron looked startled and said- “Whoa! Stop looking at me like that. I’m sorry if all this is below your expectations! I didn’t have the time get any home improvements done and I’m fully aware that I look as pathetic as Snape-without-shampoo!”

“No… actually, you look… umm… good”, Hermione finished vaguely, going crimson. Ron looked surprised and pleased. He flashed a dazzling, sheepish smile, and looked thoroughly like the ‘Ronald Weasley’ she previously knew… a warm feeling rushed through her insides. She knew that she looked considerably redder than before.

“Well, it’s been a while since we last met, hasn’t it? Have you got your own place yet?”

Ron levitated a chair and Hermione sat at the living room, which was furnished with Ron’s broom on a stand at the corner, and some strange objects and books on the mantle-piece. This room was relatively cleaner than most of the apartment.

“It’s not much, and I hardly stay. We have to work day and night, they’re real trolls at the Auror Training… don’t give you a moment’s peace… can’t complain with the war and everything” said Ron sadly.

“But it’s what you’ve always wanted. And they’re already paying you with the bonuses… I read in the Prophet last week… they want more Aurors” said Hermione.

“I heard about you of course- Hermione Granger: The founder of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Your article in the Prophet was stirring… all that passion for those pathetic gits! Those elves probably don’t even know that there’s an angel working for their… ah… emancipation” Ron said, snorting with exaggeration.

Hermione tossed her hair proudly and said “It’s something noble that a “pathetic GIT” such as you wouldn’t understand. Anyway… have you had any news of Harry?”

Harry it seemed was in Estonia, finding the fourth Horcrux, believed to be the cup of Hufflepuff. He had met with some relatives of an old, dead witch, Hepzibah Smith who had last possessed the cup. Ron was in touch with Harry through the pair of enchanted mirrors, one of which Sirius had gifted Harry, and the other was found in Grimmauld Place. But Ron had tried to contact him for more than a week, without a reply. And that was why he had written to Hermione, requesting a visit if she wasn’t busy.

“That must mean that he’s found it, or at least close to finding it. I just hope he’ll be okay. It really is unfair not letting us go with him” Hermione said.

“Oh no… I talked to him about that, pestered him actually. I’m following up with the next horcrux once the first semester of training is over. We’re getting a break of two weeks and it sounded good enough. To be honest, Harry seemed quite glad to have me around. Must be a nightmare digging up Voldemort’s souls”.

“You’re saying his name right, are you… well good. That should really be the first step in Auror training- Please repeat after me… Vol-de-mort” finished Hermione laughing.

They had some tea and fruit cake and recollected some old memories. They discussed her plans with SPEW but the topic was soon abandoned as it led to more confrontation. It felt great to be together again. Hermione noticed Ron looking at her more often than required, or was it just her imagination. She had indeed lost some weight and cut her hair. Her muggle cousin in Texas had sent her mascara, which she now liberally applied wherever she went. Ginny, Ron’s younger sister had found it irresistible and written to Hermione’s cousin for one for herself. There was something different about the way Ron and Hermione talked that evening. It was no longer about Hogwart’s teachers or lessons, but about their careers, family and recent dementors attacks… and from the way Ron conversed with her, mature and aware, instead of with the usual frivolity, she knew that they had finally grown up…

Read Chapter 2: Trio Once More here .

Harry Potter and the Necessary Sequel, by Babbitty Rabbitty

Wotcher! If you are a hardcore fan like me, and were expecting a phenomenal climatic end to the series by the time the last book came out... you were definitely a teeny-weeny bit disappointed.

Alright I'm not bitter or anything, but c'mon! By the end of the book, in the final Harry-Voldemort battle, they were literally yelling 'kutte kameene ' at each other!!! And where was Ginevra Molly Weasley all along? Why was she assigned such an important role in the Half Blood Prince, and then put away like a desirable showpiece, whose prime function in Deathly Hallows is to smooch Harry, and give him the urges... Hem Hem.

I think JKR kinda lost it, after her last kid was born... well I can make such allowances, being a feminist- Mommies ARE allowed to freak a bit- but she didn't have 2 mess the whole franchise up at the end!!! I know we were all happy about Snape being good at the end, and all lover-boy... whatever!!! I simply cannot imagine what Harry James Potter would have looked like if he had been 'Severus Snape Jr.'.... or maybe I can... hehe
So I'm writing this piece of fan fiction, it's what I had imagined the book 'should' end. But considering that the said plot, is really long, the only way JKR would have been able 2 include all this is if she had gone on writing forever... something we ALL wanted!

It was written after Half Blood Prince and so some things will be at odds with the ending. But on the bright side, this is my 'more acceptable' version and also contains all the guesses and predictions I had made regarding the plot and characters before DH even came out!! So things like who R.A.B is, and that Ron n Hermione lurve each other... are all the same. But some things will be up to me, but enjoyable nevertheless...

So get started and read it. I'll be posting chapters on a weekly basis (eg. HPNS- Chapter 1... etc. U get my point right?) and would absolutely love to hear your comments! You can find all the chapters in the Creative section- label reads 'Magical Me'. This is about a lot more action, romance, killings, melodrama and twisted plot... more magic n fun inventions... and yes there will be offspring as well!! I would rate it a PG-16, something that JK should have done as well. She cares too much about her young readers!! Anyway, about this 'necessary sequel'... DRUM ROLL! Hermione meets Ron after twelve months and they discuss Harry and his mission about the Horcruxes. Will they be allowed to join him? How much danger are they all really in? How far has Harry progressed? What's Voldemort's next fatal step? And will Ron invite Hermione to the Annual Auror's Ball? well... read to find out!

The Tales of Beedle the Bard

Ah, Hermione will now not be the only person to own an original of this book. JKR has handwritten and illustrated seven copies of this book (along with jeweled covers), to raise money for charity. One copy goes to Sotheby's in London, while the others are for her closest friends.

Anyway, apart from The Tale of the Three Brothers, the book has four other 'fairytales' namely The Fountain of Fair Fortune, The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babitty Rabitty and Her Cackling Stump, and The Warlock's Hairy Heart.

Boy, wouldn't I do just about anything to get my hands on a copy...

Authors Wanted

Are you a fan of the world of Harry Potter? Are you a writer, and driven by the desire to write or share something related to Pottermania? THIS could be your chance!

We are looking for dedicated writers for this blog. Potter-related usernames are preferred, but not mandatory. If you're interested, please leave a comment on this post, along with your email address, and we'll get in touch with you.

Cheers!