Okay, quick word about my story. It takes place almost directly after Order of the Phoenix. So if you haven't read the fifth book, don't even skim the first chapter of my fan fiction unless you're in the mood for some serious spoilers. Lol, you have been warned.
Gotta add the spoiler ;)
I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Hagrid, or anything else you can think of. It would be really nice if I did, but unfortunately the amazing JK Rowling is a bit more creative than me. Okay, a lot more. Anyway, I only take credit for my original story and characters.
I hope you enjoy my story. I really, really, really appreciate reviews. Tell me what you think of my story, how your day went, or about your pet cat. Anything. I really don't care, just please write something, lol.
Now here goes.............
A Familiar Face
Prologue
"Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."
- Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
It appeared an idyllic place at first. The spacious bedroom was lit by dusty rays of early sunlight, streaming in from windows which looked out upon the azure, calm Mediterranean. The room was plain and sparse. A dark wood desk, dresser, and large bed were the only pieces of furniture. There were no clues in the room to let a viewer know that its main inhabitant was a sixteen-year old wizard. This wizard was tossing and turning in a disturbed sleep.
'The room was dark, but he could see the woman cradling her child across the floor. She turned quickly at the sound of his approaching steps and terror filled her bright green eyes. She held the baby close and pleaded, "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry! James!!! Jaaaaaames!! Help!!!!"
"He's dead and you know it. Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...." A harsh voice demanded.
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead ....."
The woman screamed as he neared her, pulling a wand out of his robe. He raised it high .....
"Not Harry too! Not Harry! Please ..... have mercy ..... have mercy ..... Noooo .....!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The woman screamed as high, cold laughter filled the room. His laughter.'
The dark haired boy woke up with a gasp. His tired light brown eyes quickly swept the room and he relaxed. Just a dream, but one of the worst ones. His clothes were soaked with sweat. He sighed. The murderous nightmares had started nearly a year ago, but had been mercifully rare until this summer. Now, they only grew darker and more disturbing. But this nightmare had been different. Last night, he had felt like the killer.
He got out of bed and paced the cold stone floor. He pushed his black hair out of his eyes, thinking. He had no idea where these dreams were coming from. Who had it been in last night's? He couldn't seem to remember the name now, but he knew it was familiar. He strode out the door that led to the marble balcony. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the salty Mediterranean air to clear his mind. He opened his eyes and looked longingly at the broom leaning against the wall. This morning would have been perfect for a nice ride over the cool blue waves. He leaned against the railing and stared down at the churning sea below.
"Cesare! Get down here, vagabondo!"
He jumped at his uncle's booming voice and then rolled his eyes before returning inside. He grabbed his wand from the top of the antique dresser and stuck it in his back pocket. While doing that, he angrily eyed the acceptance letter from Hogwarts which also lay haphazardly on the dresser, as if someone had thrown it there.
Cesare groaned inwardly and picked it up, his eyes casting over the loopy handwriting. He reread it, hoping to catch a word or phrase that denied his fears.
Dear Signore Cesare al Jalil
I am writing to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as the sixth year representative in our new exchange program. I am pleased that you will be participating in this program. In these troubled times, building and maintaining international bonds of unity and friendship will help us overcome our differences to secure a brighter future. I have spoken with your former headmaster Khaled Rakha at Anksenum and he wishes you the best of luck. I look forward to meeting you myself.
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc.,Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards
Cesare scoffed at the letter. No wonder Rahka wished him the best of luck. He was probably thrilled to be free of him. Cesare didn't have a great reputation at Anksenum. Dating half the girls and beating up a good number of the boys tended to make you a bit or a problem in the eyes of the headmaster. He didn't have much hope for Hogwarts either. His uncle had forced him to apply for the transfer. Cesare still couldn't figure out why. His uncle hated Dumbledore and wasn't too fond of Britain. Why he wanted his nephew to spend the next two years at some British school was a complete mystery.
Maybe he wants me to get killed, Cesare thought. The news out of London was terrifying the entire wizarding world. With Voldemort's return, many wizards and witches were fleeing Great Britain, which seemed to be Voldemort's focus. Cesare felt chills up his spine at the thought. He had been kept in the dark when it came to news of the rest of the magical world this summer by his uncle. His uncle spoke rarely about the subject and when he did, he only praised Voldemort's return.
"CESARE!"
"COMING!" He yelled and dropped the letter. He pulled open the heavy wooden door and hurried downstairs. His uncle was not a person to cross.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Vincenzo Rivera stared at his nephew's unkempt, tired face. "Is this how you plan to embarrass your name at Hogwarts? By being a lazy, filthy, little bum?" he asked coolly. "You better not look like that when you got to the Malfoy's."
Cesare simply ignored him and sat down to a breakfast prepared by one of the many house elves. His uncle left the room a few minutes later. Cesare finished and got up to leave. As he turned, he noticed a crumpled newspaper on top of the trash bin. After a quick glance over his shoulder towards the direction his uncle had gone, he snatched it up. It was Il Mago Quotidianamente. (The Wizard Daily) He scanned the front page quickly, searching for news about Voldemort. He did not have to look for very long. A huge headline screamed, "Massacre At Azkaban!!"
Cesare's eyes widened as he pulled the paper closer to his face and read on.
News came early this morning of another mass jail break of He-Who-Must-Not- Be-Named 's supporters at Azkaban, the island prison fortress located in Britain. A similar escape occurred early this spring, but this break-out accompanied the massacre of twenty one guards. Details are still fuzzy, but it is believed that the Lord You Know Who was there himself. An estimated ten Death Eaters escaped, most who had been recently incarcerated. Human guards had also recently replaced Azkaban's notorious dementors, whom are now suspected to have switched their allegiance to You Know Who. Italian Minister of Magic Francesco Rimbaldi is warning citizens to avoid travel, especially to Britain. Rimbaldi has been decrying the British Ministry's response to Voldemort's uprising, along with many othes in the International Confederation of Wizards. This story will be further reported as soon as new information is learned.
He lowered the paper slowly. So this is what had been going on during the summer? He was just turning the page to search for more news when a cold, angry voice from behind him turned his blood to ice.
"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" Vicenzo demanded.
Cesare whirled around, the newspaper still clutched in his hand, giving up any chance of playing innocent. "I'm reading the paper. What's wrong with that?" he said in steely voice.
His uncle snatched it from his hand and tore it in half. "I told you not to touch the newspapers this summer!" His face was dark with fury.
"I don't remember hearing you tell me that," Cesare lied, but his uncle wasn't paying attention. Instead he was looking at the ruined paper, with growing fear etched in his face.
"Were you reading this?" he asked slowly, as if he was trying to keep his voice controlled. He thrust out the remains of the front page at his nephew and with increasing dread, Cesare recognized the article about the jail break.
"No," he said quickly.
The blow came out of nowhere; his uncle backhanded him across the face before he even finished his response.
"Liar," he hissed. "You're a nasty, little liar. You were reading this article about the Dark Lord."
Cesare didn't respond, only stared out his uncle through eyes narrowed by cold hatred.
"You continue to wear my patience thin, boy. Get out of my sight. Now!"
Cesare didn't need to hear anything else. He walked past his uncle, keeping his head high and refusing to look at him. His cheek stung furiously where he had been hit, but the pain was small when compared to the curiosity gnawing inside him. Why did Vincenzo forbid him any information about what was going on in the wizarding world recently? Especially that concerning Voldemort....... what was he trying to hide?