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Beautiful Disaster: The Portal To Life by al3x
Chapter 1 : Harry Potter!
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 14

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A.n. Okay, i feel the need to put an authors note before the story! Right, this is the sequal to Beautiful Disaster...I suggest you read that first because i don't think this will make sense otherwise lol =P Ok, the rating is just incase, im not totally sure how much violence, language etc will be in here. The Hermione/Harry pairing isn't a massive one and neither is the Harry/Ginny one...but it does happen at some point. I have different time zones so basically this begins where the prequal ended - 5 years after the final war - then it goes back to 3 years after it, i think! If i mess up dates whatever just let me know because i did have to change things around =D The first chapter seems kinda urm, very unlike Beautiful Disaster...But it will get there =] Oh yersh, and in the next chapter is the more descriptive version of the final war which i promised ^_^

Beautiful Disaster: The Portal To Life

Harry Potter!


The platform was so empty that you could see the dust rising and falling from the ground as the wind whistled through the London station. There was pitch blackness all around when suddenly a small light started flickering into life. Dust rose rapidly as, as if by magic, there was a sudden loud pop, and three people emerged onto platform 10.

They walked so smoothly they could have been floating and there was no echo from their footsteps. Cloaks billowed out behind them as they walked in silence to their destination. One tall man with half moon spectacles and a crooked nose stopped suddenly holding his arm out in front of the other two.

There was a man, he was only young but I call him a man because that was what he had become. His usual messy brown hair was the same but his amazing green eyes had lost there shine. Upon his head was a scar, a scar which had been a burden for all his life. Though now, it bothered him no more. He no longer looked in the mirror as the sight of it reminded him of the terrible things it had put him through.

The girl next to him was of the same height. In her eyes was pain and loss but just by looking at her you see the control and power she had. It surrounded her and gave her an air of superiority; though she felt the complete opposite. As the two other men turned to face her and nodded she stood up straight and a look of determination came over her. Swiftly she turned on her heels and slowly walked towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Again, as if by magic, she disappeared and was followed by the two others.

As they emerged onto platform 9 ¾ a wind swept through the platform. Magic had finally arrived again and the taller man pulled from his pocket a wand. With one swift movement a great noise filled the station and an amazing red train appeared on the track. The man, whose name was Albus Dumbledore, smiled widely.

“It’s good to be back.” He said. The two others looked at each other and smiled shortly until they were beckoned forward by Dumbledore.

“Professor,” said the boy whose name was known as Harry Potter, not just by the wizarding world but now also the muggles. “What’s going to happen?”

The girl shifted anxiously as she too looked towards the old man who smiled at them both. “For the past two years since the war has ended I have been looking for a way out of a problem, a problem I’m afraid there is only one solution to.” The smile had left his face. “I told you that one day I would tell you how I managed to still be alive, and I believe now is the right time. I knew that my time to go was coming and I found a way to stay in, I suppose you could call it, limbo. I had not properly died, but neither was I alive. There was supposed to be no way of leaving this place, it takes you directly to heaven; or hell. But I found a way. I found a spell so powerful that it brought forth the Hogwarts founders, all four of them. Only with their power could I return. In doing this I caused a problem. Salazar Slytherin now knew this could happen and I’m afraid, now that Voldermort is there, that he to will want the power of returning. Foreseeing this I placed a spell upon a spell that would retain Voldermort and any other wizard that died in limbo for 12 years. For every year it takes a lot away from you so it was as far as I could go. The people will not age, they will be just as young as they were on the day of their death, and I am positive we are the only people who can stop Voldermort.”

The two young people with him would have looked shocked and hurried to ask questions as they always did at school. But they had lost the emotions and feelings of excitement two years ago. “But we’ll have forgotten how to use magic by then, we haven’t used it for two years and we’re not planning on it for as long as we are alive,” said the girl, named Hermione, with a strong tone.

Dumbledore smiled, “Yes I know, so I have come up with a plan. A plan I can only hope works and with an insight which might give you determination to fight in ten years. If we perform a great piece of magic which is almost like freezing ourselves, it will preserve our bodies for the following years so that we no longer have to live with this pain, until the time is right. It will be like you are asleep for just a minute, and the ten years will be up.”

Now a curious looked had overcome Harry and Hermione as Hermione began shaking her head, “I can’t do it, I just can’t fight another war. I can’t possibly lose you two to it.”

“But Hermione,” said Dumbledore in almost a pleading tone. “We have to; we are the only ones who can. I am so sorry to put this burden on you again but it’s the only opportunity. Maybe this will change your mind; the people in limbo, the ones that un-willingly lost there lives, can come back. Voldermort will bring forth his deatheaters but we can bring back people too. I’m sorry to say no muggles will return but most of your loved ones will. All the Weasley’s including Ron and also Hermione, Draco.”

At the sound of this name her head shot up to looking into Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes and it was at this moment that her mind was made up, this name must have meant a lot to her. She would do it, even if Harry wouldn’t.

Dumbledore smiled and turned to Harry who instantly nodded his head. He hadn’t spoken much for a long time, he was afraid to speak. Inside he blamed Dumbledore for everything, but he loved him and couldn’t say anything, not yet.

And so the three people walked slowly towards the Magical Hogwarts express and with a wave of a wand the doors creaked open. They made there way up the corridor past each empty compartment until they came to the last one.

Another wave of a wand magically sealed the door and the two wizards and the witch looked at each other one last time, wands held up in their hands.

“In ten years.” Said Harry finally and with final nods they all quickly brought their wands down and were instantly concealed in what looked like sparkling, clear glass. And that was it.

The three most powerful wizards left in the world were gone, for now. No longer would the magical world be visited for a long time. The greatest headmaster Hogwarts School Of Witch Craft and Wizardry had ever seen slept on, eyes shut in a deep sleep. The boy who lived, twice, and saved the magical world also slept on. And there was Hermione, the girl who stupidly blamed herself. A girl who had only learnt to live a few years ago thanks to a beautiful person, and a girl who lost that person therefore, losing herself, slept on; a single tear left on her face.

In what seemed like a couple of seconds, a small crack appeared in the glass…

About two years earlier…

A young woman lifted a whiskey bottle to her mouth and took a sip. She felt the burning sensation tingle in her throat as it slipped down into her stomach making her face cringe from the acid. The book which was held between her hands was titled “Figures of the Past, present…and future?” and she had been indulged in it for the past hour and a half. Her long curly hair cascaded down the back of the chair and her slender legs were crossed neatly under the table. A few men cast interesting looks her way but not once did she meet their gazes. She bit down on her lip as the book suddenly got interesting and placed herself on the edge of her seat, leaning forwards. Her eyes widened and lit up in delight and excitement as she eagerly turned the page to read on.

The door of the pub was pushed open slowly and a man walked in with his hood up, dripping from the obvious rain which was pouring outside. He pulled the hood back from his head and shook his shaggy hair of the little water which had managed to get on it. He fumbled in his long jacket pocket and pulled out some money. He ran his fingers across the notes and pouted his mouth slightly, debating on whether a drink was worth the rest of his money for that week. Deciding it was he walked slowly with his head bent over to the pub counter. He avoided the eyes of every person around him and only did he lift his head when approached by the bartender.

“What can I get ya?” He asked in a thick Irish accent. His tone was blunt and gruff and the man stumbled over his words when he answered.

“I’ll just have a pint of the cheapest larger you have,” he said quickly as he shifted his eyes to the floor.

The bartender surveyed him for a minute through narrowed eyes before turning his back on him and pulling a pint glass from a dusty cupboard. The frothing sound could be heard as the drink was poured and the man at the bar shifted under the stare which the bar tender had now turned upon him.

“One pounds twenty five,” he said hoarsely still not removing the look he had placed upon the customer. The man sifts through his money slowly and almost reluctantly handed it over.

“Thanks,” he replied quietly and flicked his long hair back out of his face slightly. The bar tenders eyes widened as he slowly lifted a shaking finger towards the man.

“You!” He shouted excitedly. “Why you’re that guy aren’t you.” The man turned suddenly and shook his head fiercely.

“No I’m not,” he denied.

“Yes you are,” the bar tender pointed out. “I would recognise that mark anywhere. It was all over the news just three years ago.” The man placed his glass down on the nearest table before intending to leave immediately. However, he was stopped by a large crowd which had congregated behind him. People whispered behind their hands to each other and others jumped up and down to get a closer look.

The woman who was sat in the corner slowly lowered her book as she watched the scene unfold. She became more interested in the charade than the events of her quite uneventful book as her eyes narrowed interestedly. She stood up to get a better view of what was going on and witnessed a man being approached by many people. At first she thought maybe they were going to kick him out. Her thoughts were corrected as she watched the bar tender smile gratefully at him and thrust the money for his drink back into his hand.

“You should have said something,” he said merrily. “We don’t charge hero’s in here we don’t.” The man dropped his hand away from the money as he wordlessly pushed against the crowd. His next move would have been anticipated had anyone been paying attention to the fact that he seemed pretty agitated by the whole fiasco.

Suddenly the man indulged deep into an inside pocket and pulled something from it. The women watched as the faces of the crowd stiffened and their smiles dropped to feared frowns. Her eyes shifted quickly to the object the man was holding and expecting it to be a gun she was shocked to see a long, thin piece of wood in his hand. Her heart pumped against her chest and her breath caught in her throat as she lifted her gaze back to the mans face.

The crowd dispersed immediately. A few screams emitted from worried women but all at once it was as though an invisible force pushed the people outwards, away from the man stood between them. Silence took over the pub as everyone watched the man threatening them with what seemed to be a piece of wood. This object had clearly struck fear in the crowd as the wide-eyed expression was repeated on every face.

The man spun around widely pointing the wood in every direction before stuffing it, almost as though he hated it, back into his deep pocket and pelting out the door into the cold whistling weather.

The woman at the table pushed her chair out as she stood shakily. Giving herself a second to find some composure she dug into her bag and left some money on the table. She hated heels but felt obliged to wear them to work so she slipped her feet back into the ones she was wearing today, which were on the floor under her chair. She winced as she felt the plastic paten rub against the fresh blister but walked off confidently all the same. She flung a bag over her shoulder which also played host to her book and smiled at the bar tender before exiting into the winter wind.

She looked around anxiously, squinting against the heavily falling snow. Her heels made a clacking sound as they made contact with the coble stones as she took off in the direction which her instincts were telling her to follow. Catching sight of what she thought she was looking for she quickened her pace as she saw the man from the bar enter a supermarket.

That hot air which issues around the doors of shops hit the man as he walked through the automatic sliding doors. He sighed gratefully for having found warmth and took a minute to bask in it before taking off up the first isle. He moved quickly with his head bent as to avoid attention. Spotting what he was looking for he wandered over to the alcohol and ran his fingers over various labels, glancing down at the prices he scowled and then moved on to the next type.

The woman entered the shop but completely ignored the heat as she hurriedly headed towards the off license section. She watched from a distance as her new interest scowled at the expensive alcohol and continued to pick up a crate off cheap larger. He wore a few layers of clothing but the ease in which he picked up the large crate gave her the impression that he was not just skin and bone. She approached him quietly, focusing her eyes on his slowly retreating back.

A clacking sound could be heard a few feet behind the man. He turned his head slightly and caught sight of a woman making her way up the isle. He quickened his pace, not wanting any sort of contact with another person. The clacking became more frequent and the man decided to stop and pretend to be interested in what was on the shelf nearest to him. Unfortunately for him, that shelf held sanitary towel. Stretching his hand out obliviously to grab the nearest thing to him he snapped it back suddenly when he realised what was there. His eyes travelled up, down and around the shelf as he scanned it for anything that would look like it interested him. It was only when he realised his defeat that he noticed how quiet it now was.

The man turned around, concluding that the woman had left the isle, and didn’t flinch when he almost bumped into her. Without acknowledging her presence he made off in the direction of the check-outs.

“I know who you are,” she spoke to his back. The man stopped, deciding once and for all to make it clear that he was not who everyone thought he was. As he turned to face her he noticed she was fiddling with something in her bag. From it she pulled out a book of which he couldn’t title. She looked up at him with a slight smile as she started turning pages obviously looking for something.

“What are you on about?” He asked quickly.

“I know who you are,” she repeated. The man huffed impatiently and when he spoke it made her cringe as he reminded her of an old teacher she’d had.

“Yes, we’ve established that,” he spat. The smile left her face as she looked into his eyes. He glanced down at his feet before turning to leave.

“I know what your name is,” she shouted out.

“Knowing who I am usually means you would know my name,” he shouted back but never turned to face her. The clacking sounded from behind him, it was coming quickly this time and he stopped suddenly, spinning around to face her.

“Listen,” he hissed in her face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He thought she wasn’t going to answer him for a second as her eyes surveyed all of his face. She glanced up and down as she took him all in and when she spoke her voice was soft and comforting.

“I’m not after an autograph or anything like that. I’m not going to congratulate you on what you did.” The man choked slightly on what she’d said and stumbled to think of words to answer this with. “I just wanted to speak to you.”

“I’m clearly not the person you think I am,” he responded harshly.

“Yes you are,” she said bluntly. The man shook his head of shaggy raven hair and stared her in the eyes as he spoke.

“You’re wrong.” The woman lifted the book she had been holding to his face and he took it in his hands. Scanning down the page he thrust it back to her and attempted leaving again. However, this time she grabbed him by the wrist and spun him round.

“Do you even remember who you are?” She questioned slowly.

“I am James Smith,” he stated. The woman shook her head.

“No you are not,” she said with a raised voice. A few passers by glanced at them interestedly. “You’re father was James but that is not your name!”

“Yes it is,” he hissed.

“Do you even remember your name?!” She repeated back at him. “Do you remember what you did?” The status of the men fell immediately. His hands began to shake and his eyes were full of fear.

“Please,” he whispered pleadingly. The woman carried on.

“Do you remember how everything that is here now is only here thanks to you? How all these people are alive because of what you did?” A small crowd was congregating close by and as the man glanced around worriedly the woman’s rage increased.

“Do you need me to tell you what your name is?” The man shook his head widely as a single tear fell down his cheek.

“Hermione please!” He shouted stunning only himself. The woman seemed to calm slightly at this sudden outburst and a reminiscing smile appeared on her face.

“Do you not remember Hogwarts where we learnt witchcraft and wizardry?” She spoke softly. The man absent-mindedly pushed his hand into his pocket and retrieved the piece of wood from earlier. He ran his fingers up and down it and the woman felt the invisible force push against her, although she did not move. “Do you need me to tell you what your name is?” The mans head shot up to look at her and he shook vigorously.

“Please,” he repeated vulnerably. “Please don’t.”

“Your name,” she whispered stubbornly. The mans eyes widened in horror and the supermarket became quiet as the growing crowd looked on. “Is Harry Potter.”

A.n. Yup, another note...Sorry if there's any mistakes but i don't have long to get this was unable to read over it =] Please leave a review, sorry if yur disappointed with the lack of Hermione/Draco so far but it will get there...Eventually n_n I really needed to express the fact that the war had a really bad effect on Harry, and the whole wizarding world for that matter!

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