Harry Potter

Lord of light and Darkness

Book 1

Life's a Prophecy

Chapter1

The Fortune Teller

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter Beta'd by: Raisinous Fiendling and RPMcMurphy from 'perfectimagination' Beta readers

Story Information: A good and evil, super Harry time travel story with a few twists. Harry meets a fortune-teller who completely changes his life over night to become Heavens chosen champion of the light. But all is not as it seems to be.

Now cursed by two prophesies instead of just one, a Dragon will rise and with it an evil surprise. Can Harry survive life's ever-increasing demands while he faces Voldemort again and again…or is this the beginning of an even greater evil… himself?

Rated: Mature

Pairings: H/G, J/L, R,Hr

Time Lines: Summer after 6th year, Marauders period, Seventh year, Post Hogwarts Era.

Warnings: Severe Violence, Sexual Situations, Coarse language, Suicide, Story characters may be out of character, Severe character death.

Book1: Life's a Prophecy

Book2: The Darkest Lord

Harry Potter, famous Boy Who Lived and saviour of the wizarding world, was waiting patiently for his two best friends to depart from the Hogwarts Express.

He wasn't really in a hurry. The train would be staying at the station for the next hour anyway.

Not that he would have cared, as he had already removed his entire luggage from the train as well as the luggage of his friends.

No, the main reason why he wasn't in a hurry was not because of the train or his luggage, or anybody else's luggage for that matter, but because he was more than willing to let his friends have some 'prime time' together, alone.

Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, his two friends seemed to have become rather close.

In fact, although they, especially Hermione, would never admit it, he had accidentally seen them snogging in the boys' toilet compartment of the train, of all places.

After taking extreme care to slip past them undetected, Harry had decided to take their luggage off the train. He was sure that they would forget about it.

Well, Hermione probably wouldn't, but Ron would be a different case altogether.

Sure enough, just five minutes before the Express was due to leave, the two came out of the train, though their appearances were a little different from what he had expected.

Ron was rather red in the face and was arguing with a rather irritated Hermione.

"Honestly, Ronald, I'm sure Harry took our luggage off the train for us, you'll see." He could hear the reassuring voice of his best female friend saying to a worried looking Ron.

"Oh, I'm not sure, I bet I left it on the station platform in Hogsmeade," Ron answered.

"Come on, Ron, even you can't be that bad. Besides, my luggage wasn't there either, surely you aren't suggesting that I would leave my…"

"Hello, lads and lasses," Harry said, deciding to step into the conversation before the situation could get out of control.

"I took the liberty of removing your belongings from the train," he added, wondering if it had been a mistake to do so.

If looks could kill, Ron would probably have had to bury his best friend that evening, and then spend the rest of his life hiding from a furious Mrs. Weasley and an equally, if not more, furious Ginny.

As it was, all Harry received was an annoyed stare from Ron, who in turn received a victorious 'told you so' from his girlfriend, for Hermione's reaction was quite the opposite. She thanked Harry for being so thoughtful and reprimanded Ron for his sour act, calling him a git and warning him that she would tell Mrs. Weasley about his behaviour if it didn't improve immediately.

Ron quickly put on an amiable face and so the trio took their luggage and started to make their way towards the platform exit.

Just as they walked through the barrier into the Muggle half of King's Cross Station, they saw a weird looking woman sitting behind a stall talking to a few Muggles.

Harry stared.

The woman wore multiple earrings, more than half of which extended from her head all the way down her side, and her hair looked like a mass of multicoloured vines which extended out from under a thick pink turban.

Harry also noticed that she wore multicoloured glasses which seemed to shrink one of her eyes to half its original size, while the other was left alone. This made Harry's eyes water slightly when he looked at them.

Amazing what some people will wear to earn a living, he thought to himself.

Interested in what such a weird looking woman could be doing, and because Harry wasn't really in a hurry to introduce his friends to his only living relatives, who they all knew hated magic and everything and everybody tied to the art, Harry led his friends over to have a look.

It didn't take long to realise that the strange woman was a fortune teller, or at least that was what she called herself.

Interested in what she was doing, Ron started to edge forward.

"Come on, Ron, we shouldn't keep Harry's relatives waiting; besides, everybody knows that fortune tellers are all frauds anyway," Hermione said as she realised what Ron had in mind.

"And why would that be?" Ron asked, his face reddening again.

"Oh, let him have a go, it's only a bit of fun," Harry said quickly, frantically trying to divert another argument.

"Seriously, Harry, we don't have time for that fake," Hermione huffed.

"Look, just because you never were any good at Divination, doesn't mean we can't have a look at…"

"Okay, Ron! All right, all right, go on, enjoy yourself. But don't come running to me when she tells you that you are going to die," Hermione said, cutting him off, putting her hand up in resignation.

She hated it when somebody reminded her of the only subject in which she wasn't any good, the only subject she had ever failed.

Though that was probably because she had left it halfway through the year, much to the enjoyment of the others in the class, who were happy to see that there was at least one subject which 'little miss perfect know-it-all' didn't, in fact, know at all.

Patiently, they waited for the woman to finish with the Muggles. Two men, one of whom was laughing hysterically at the look of bewilderment on his friend's face, were just leaving.

Smiling mysteriously, the woman beckoned for the next in line to come forward.

"She's already giving me the creeps," Ron said to Harry as they started to walk forward, eliciting a small smile from Harry.

Hermione just gave a small sigh but looked away when Ron turned his head. It was clear she wouldn't win anyway.

Silently, they all took a seat in front of the woman.

"Welcome, welcome, I am Sylvia Fortuna, and I am ninety nine percent sure I can tell you your fortunes if you wish; for a small price, that is," the woman said in a mysterious voice, which earned a small laugh from Hermione.

Sylvia ignored it, but Ron turned to Hermione.

"Listen, if you can't take this, then you don't have to," he hissed in an angry voice.

Before Ron could say any more, though, the woman held up her hand, effectively silencing him.

"It's okay," she said. "Very few take me seriously; I am used to it," she continued. "In fact, I like it that way. It's always very enjoyable to see the customers' faces, no matter what they believe. It comes with the job. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Besides, I love to prove them wrong," she added with a small wink, which made Hermione scowl dangerously.

"Now, who would like to go first?" she asked.

Giving Hermione one last warning look, Ron motioned that he would like to start.

"All right, what's your name, young lad?" she asked pleasantly.

"Ronald Weasley," Ron answered enthusiastically.

"Ronald Weasley," the woman echoed. "Ah yes, the son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, born on the first of March and older brother to the cute little famous redhead called Ginny, how interesting," she said.

"How do you know my parents? ...How do you know Ginny? How is she famous? ...How do you know when my birthday is?" Ron interrupted, extremely surprised and highly unnerved by how much the woman knew about him.

"Please, it's my job to know these things. Who knows, for a small fee I might even explain how I know," the woman answered mischievously. "Now, what would you like me to do…Would you like me to tell you your future? Would you like to use tarot cards or the crystal ball perhaps? Or what about a touch of soul gazing?" she asked with a wink.

"I think I'll try the crystal ball," Ron said after thinking for a while.

"You do, do you? And how do you expect to pay for the service?" the woman asked sternly. "I don't think one Sickle and three Knuts are enough. The ball's illuminations cost a minimum of two Sickles," she added after seeing the confused look on Ron's face.

"How did you…?" Ron asked for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day, ignoring the slight snicker coming from the girl beside him.

Ron never realised that he was already holding all the money he had in his hands.

"I told you, it's my business to know," the woman answered simply.

"I'll pay for you," Harry said, seeing Ron's downtrodden face.

He knew how Ron hated to be poor, and he, Harry, had more money than he could hope to spend.

"No you won't," said Ron angrily.

Too bad he's too proud to take anything which could look like charity, Harry thought to himself dismally.

Hearing Harry speak, the woman turned to face him.

"Now, who could you be?" she started to say. "Black untidy hair, green eyes, glasses, scar…SCAR… Hang on, you're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed, which caused a few people who were passing to look at them with mild interest.

Harry cringed slightly at her loud voice. The last thing he needed right now was a mob of Daily Prophet reporters, or any other reporters for that matter, swarming around him, asking him more of their stupid questions.

"Well well well, I never would have thought… I'd love to tell you your fortune, Mr. Potter," she said, in a manner which suggested that she really didn't want to take no as an answer.

Harry, realizing the turn the situation was taking, quickly decided to get away as soon as possible.

"Sorry, Ma'am, I really can't. My uncle and aunt…they're waiting. I really don't want to keep them waiting for long. Maybe next time," Harry said, looking for a way to escape.

"I'd be happy to tell all three of you your fortunes... for free," the woman said in a last attempt to persuade her reluctant customer. It was clear that she really liked the idea of telling the fortune of the famous Harry Potter.

But Harry wasn't about to stop. Standing up, he quickly started to move away, with an amused Ron and a glaring Hermione trailing behind, when the woman suddenly grabbed him from behind.

Harry, completely out of reflex, grabbed the hand which was clutching his shoulder and twisted it upwards and over with a jerk as he had learnt from Moody over the last summer.

A second later, he was free and the woman was clutching her wrist in pain.

Hermione and Ron already had their hands on their wands, ready to draw them at a second's notice.

Seeing that she wouldn't try anything, or rather that she wasn't able to do anything, Harry turned around again, and started to walk away, ignoring the woman's pleas.

Hermione and Ron took one last look at the woman and followed.

They were about to walk through the automated Muggle ticket collection stands when they stopped dead in their tracks, for the woman's voice had changed.

At first she gasped and it sounded like she was going to suffocate.

Then, just as she started to flush a slight red colour from apparent lack of air, she started to chant. Her voice took on a slightly hoarse misty sing-song tone which went up and down with a ghostly rhythm.

Turning around again, the trio listened to what she said.

On the eve of the morn,
The darkness shall come to play.
Led by a creature with a name not spoken,
Fifteen dark flames shall fight until broken.

Light shall lose and slay his pray,
On light's blood fortress the clay shall spray.

Darkness shall become day,
As the light shall make its way.
From ashes to ashes as we say,
But maybe not this day.

For the past makes the present,
and the present foresees the past.
As the past becomes the present,
And the present makes way for the past.

The light shall become one with the former
And the former will make way for the maker
The maker shall alter the way of blood and past
The former, to fall to shadow
The maker, to be recast.

On the night of a prophecy's birth retold,
My past might conquer darkness as foretold,
Soon, evil shall prevail and have his way.
Darkness's chieftain, to be born, to claim the day.

The light shall fall, but remain at bay,
In its own prison it shall stay.
The world shall descend into complete disarray.

Unable to fight, but able to aid,
To hinder the darkness, before all is too late.

The twin's the key; the hand's the lock,
To release the light, the other must not be forgot.

Find the darkness, find the brother,
The lock must find the door without the other.
There is no other way to recover.
The key must use the lock to unlock the other.

Harry stared at the woman in shock, while Ron looked scared.

Hermione, on the other hand, was rolling her eyes. She obviously thought that this was all a joke.

Harry, however, had learned from experience not to treat anything like this as a joke.

On the contrary, he had after all had a similar experience in his third year with another woman who was in fact a real Seer. A really bad one, perhaps, but still a Seer. It was this Seer who had made the prophecy which had literally ruined his life for the past sixteen years. It was this Seer who had made the prophecy which concerned him and the evil Lord Voldemort. So Harry was not going to ignore this, no matter how much he would have wanted to.

Shaken from what he had heard, Harry started to walk away again, while the crowd that had gathered around during the prophecy's delivery started to cheer.

They obviously thought it was part of the act.

A few minutes later the trio resumed their search for Harry's Muggle magic-hating relatives.

"Okay, mates, try to be nice, for all the good it will do. While I don't expect them to accept, I would prefer to try this the civilised way first," Harry said after a while as he spotted his uncle and aunt waiting impatiently near the entrance of the station.

"Ok, but if they don't…" Ron trailed off.

"Then we try to persuade them…in a civilised manner," Harry said, adding the civilised part quickly.

"Ok," Ron said again.

"Agreed," said Hermione.

"But after that fails we have some fun," Ron added, a small grin appearing over his face.

"RON!" Hermione said in what she hoped was a stern voice, though it was clear she was thinking similarly.

"Yes, then we have some fun, or rather you and Hermione will, as I am not allowed to use magic yet, being underage," Harry said quietly, then smiled as he saw the eager look on his best friend's face.

Vernon Dursley, Harry's fanatically anti-magic uncle, was the first to notice the trio as they came towards him.

"What are they doing here?" he asked in a voice which clearly demonstrated that he didn't want Harry's friends anywhere near him.

Deciding to be as polite as he could manage at that moment, Harry looked straight into his hated uncle's eyes.

"Would it be all right if my two friends stayed with me for the next two weeks?" Harry said quickly.

"WHAT?!" his uncle said loudly.

"Would it be ok, if my friends stayed with me for…"

"No," Vernon said dangerously.

"Not even if…."

"I will not have any more freaks like you in my house…I…" Vernon started to say, his face becoming a scarlet red.

"Silencio," Ron said, and a second later Vernon was quiet.

Ignoring the look of sheer rage on Vernon's face, Ron, deciding to skip the 'civilised part', stepped up and looked right into his face.

"Ok, now you listen to me. It's clear that you are not going to allow us to stay. I expected as much, quite happily too, I may add, but frankly, I don't really give a Blast-Ended Skrewt's ass," he said.

"So, listen to me, and listen to me well, as I will only say this once…" Ron continued, as if nothing had happened.

At that direct moment Vernon made a sudden movement to grab Ron, but Hermione pointed her wand at Vernon and quickly said, "Congelo," causing Vernon to freeze on the spot.

Harry took a moment to look around but luckily nobody seemed to notice anything.

A moment later his attention was back on the drama in front of him.

Acting as if nothing had happened, Ron continued to speak. "Either you do as we say, in which case we should be able to get along perfectly, or…"

"Or!" Hermione said, cutting him off, raising her voice at the 'or'.

"…Or I will transform all of you into worms, and feed you to the birds. Is that clear?" she finished fiercely.

"Er.. right…or that," said Ron, impressed, grinning at her suggestion.

Realising that Vernon was unable to answer, Hermione removed the Freezing Charm.

The change in Harry's uncle was instantaneous.

One moment he was very angry, and ready to tear Ron apart, the next he was very white, and doing his best to step away.

"Is that clear?" Hermione and Ron asked again in unison, their voices frighteningly calm, leaving no room for a second chance.

Vernon tried to speak, but couldn't.

"Oh right…Finite Incantatem," said Hermione as she realised that his voice was still missing.

"Now hold on one…." Vernon started to say.

"Is that clear?" Hermione repeated, raising her voice slightly, just stopping Ron from blasting Vernon with a curse.

"Yes," was all Vernon could say meekly.

Petunia, however, was not ready to give up just yet.

"Now wait there just a few seconds…" she started to say, trying to take command before Ron pointed his wand at her, after which she stepped back a few steps.

"Yes?" Hermione said sweetly.

"Please…it isn't possible…we don't have enough rooms," she said, looking really frightened yet adamant.

"That's okay, they brought sleeping bags with them," Harry said, kindly stepping into the conversation again.

"I will not be feeding you freaks any…" Vernon said loudly, finding his voice again.

"Eximo Oratio," Hermione said, and Vernon was quiet once more.

Harry looked around again, expecting to see a few curious spectators, but as before, nobody seemed to have taken any interest in their little group.

Strange, he thought, as he turned his attention back again to the conversation; then it dawned on him. Of course, the Notice-Me-Not Charm, I should have known, he scolded himself, his worries removed.

"Don't worry about food. We will supply everything we need ourselves," he heard Hermione say to his aunt.

"You will share one room between the three of you?" said Petunia.

"Yes," Hermione answered after pausing for a second much to Ron's evident delight.

"You will provide your own food?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

"You will leave after two weeks and never come back again like Dumbledore said?"

"Yes," Harry said, earning a pleased look from Vernon.

"You will do no magic?" Petunia asked.

"Only if you don't give us a reason to," Hermione said quietly, which took the pleased look from Vernon's face again.

"You will stay in your room at all times, and you'll stay out of sight," Petunia said as if she had not heard Hermione's last comment.

Hermione was just about to disagree, but Harry said yes before she could.

"Very well, get into the car and stay quiet," she said, ignoring her husband's stare.

"Oh, and give him his voice back again, will you?" she said, motioning towards her glaring husband as she started to walk away.

A few minutes later, a sullen Vernon, a fairly calm Petunia, a very frightened Dudley, and three victorious 'freaks' were cruising along a motor way on their way towards number four, Privet Drive.