HARRY POTTER and the WARRIOR'S SPIRIT
DISCLAIMER: Every aspect of the Harry Potter universe belongs to my god, J.K. Rowling, I make no claim on her territory and ask her not to hunt me down and sue me seeing as how I'm currently penniless.
[A/N:] I've read TONS of hp fics and my work may seem similar to someone else's. I am currently unaware if there is one that is the same…but the lines between my left and right side of my brain are smudged, so if it is far to similar to your fic…please tell me and I'll take this down and remodel it….thank you!!!
CHAPTER 1
Harry sat lying on his rickety bed, in his bare, sterile room. The moon danced on his face as the shadows of the tree in the front yard blocked the white beams. Clouded emerald eyes looked upon the ceiling of the impeccably white room. 'Cedric' he murmured. Harry thought of the handsome Hufflepuff knowing that Cedric may be forgotten by those who did not keep him close as Voldermort's second reign of terror began. Voldermort, rather IT as he should be called, would strike again and again until IT got what IT wanted.
Harry knew, just as he knew he had to stop him, that Ol' Voldie would hunt down everyone he cared about, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Fred and George the other Weasleys…Ginny…
Harry absently fingered the leather band on his wrist where his watch used to be. The band was stamped with a snake circling a lion. A simple gift, it was inexpensive, but so much more to him, and even Ginny. They were the only ones to recently encounter the Dark Lord. They were both in the same position so to speak; they had both lost something, (a sense of childhood innocence that so many at Hogwarts still had), gained something, (once again, Voldermort 'blessed' her with the gift of Parseltongue), they were both connected to Riddle. They were…kindred had come to Harry's mind. They were two of a kind. With that Harry's eyes closed to the Third Task, Cedric's blank stares, and Ginny's face.
\\ Harry's Dream//
People's screams echoed through the streets of Diagon Alley, lights flashed as curses whizzed by. Black robed and white masked Death Eaters laugh as a green light, undoubtably the killing curse, hits another innocent. With the persistent burn of his scar, the pounding of footsteps all around him, and the horrible pleads for help, he almost missed the voice on the edge of his hearing,
'The spirit of the Warrior…
…the savior
… the spirit of all that is pure
… He has returned to defend the Light Order of Arthur…
… defend the Light form the ever-returning Dark…'
The words, still fuzzy, came to him, as he felt a feeling inside him grow….
'Let him come forth
…One of strength, of purity,
… One of Love…
…One of the Balance…'
His skin seemed to melt like a lighted candle, shift as the wax melted. The melt in his bones, gut, and heart…his very BEING…everything but his soul…as his spirit seemed to grow, expand…
'Let you Spirit out,
Let out the Spirit Warrior once again…
For the Light, the soul, and the spirit call upon him…'
And with that final shift, as he felt his hair lengthen and tingle with energy, his insides burning, his hands glowing with a power aching to be released. He closed his eyes, visions of happiness, love, pain, pleasure, battles, deaths, births, Light and Dark. Lives assaulted his mind; curses, charms, potions, War Havik'arta the ancient method of combat, imprinted themselves in his mind, muscles and nerves. Long forgotten history, is now once again remembered.
Harry opened his eyes, realizing, even knowing, not only a second had passed since he arrived. He lifted his bigger, more muscled arms to the black sky. His red and gold robe swirling with a wind that appeared out of nowhere, he began a chant, forgotten in time, 'Nehya artuowy luwelyna…' Roiling storm clouds, black with unshed rain swooped down. Lighting cracked merrily between the clouds, getting larger and louder as the chant progressed… 'Nehya nehya aeire artuowy aerie NEHYA!'
As the last part of the mysterious chant was yelled, the ever-growing clouds and lightning reached it peak and…
"CRASH!"
The lightning, in one deafening roar. Hit the Death Eaters with a resounding bang, and struck them down. Electricity flickered and snapped out of his hands and hair, leaving shell-shocked and frightened crowd to gaze upon him for the first time. A golden aura, bright as the sun, dimmed and his features became clearer.
Raven black hair, long to the middle of his back, was up in a black leather cord. Blazing emerald eyes looked out upon them and seemed to flicker with a silver and blue light. His face was chiseled and handsome, with a weary and worn lines that made him seem older than the 25 years that he probably was. The people watched in awe. As did the Order of the Phoenix agents that had just arrived. With a regal inclination of his head, and slight smile that sounds cold but radiated nothing but kindness and patience; he turned and disappeared as the air around him visibly rippled, red and gold robes sweeping the ground. A twinkle in his eye as he spotted a silver hand beneath a black robe.
\\ END DREAM //
Harry woke with a start, calming as he remembered the fact that the dream was fairly good for a change. A mysterious figure saved Diagon Alley, and got the Death Eaters. The man, strangely familiar, haunted his thoughts. A taller, more muscled Harry got up out of bed. He walked down the hall to the bathroom, apparently unaware of his regal stance. He opened the door and stepped in, and for the first time, realized his changes.
"Bloody Hell!"
Harry picked up a lock of the wavy, shoulder length hair in the mirror, the nicely toned muscles over a tall, 6' foot frame 'Shorter,' he thought, 'about five full inches of the person on my dream'.
Harry was way too calm for this he knew, but in his mind he knew that it was okay, and that there was no need to panic because he wasn't wearing his glasses. Harry looked at the attractive image in the mirror, 'This isn't so bad,' examining his new form. He jumped into the shower to get ready for the morning. 'The Dursley's will absolutely freak' A small smile appeared on his face as he threw on some of Dudley's old clothes, which, while baggy, were stylishly so. His hair, he pulled out of the way with one of Aunt Petunia's black hair elastics.
Harry walked down the hall as he thought of what to write to Dumbledore, he didn't feel the need to tell him or Sirius of his changes, just the dream, which seemed to be seen through this odd man's eyes. Harry frowned, should he tell Dumbledore of that? 'Not necessary Harry' something whispered into his ear, 'It's time to remember'
'What?' he thought in his head, 'I must be going crazy'
'No, you aren't. Your spirit remembers, now you will too. Don't worry, it won't hurt, much.'
A spasm of pain ripped through him. And then he remembered everything.
[A/N]: Sooo, what did you think? It's my first time so be kind and please review…its like chocolate…makes me happy…
If you have any questions and feel confused, explain it to me in the review and I'll answer it in the next chapter.
NO FLAMES thank you. If I wanted them I'd show this to my English teacher.
!!!!!REVIEW!!!!! (go on, ya know you want to!)