Disclaimer: I wished on a shooting star the other night, but unfortunately still do not own Harry Potter. All the credit for that goes to my Queen, J.K Rowling! I am also not making any profit from writing this fanfiction.

A/N:This is my first fanfiction, but I hope you like it :) It starts off at the end of Harry's fifth year, when he's in the ministry. The first part of the story is taken from the Fifth book, The Order of Phoenix, with a few bits of my own here and there. But after this very short piece, the rest of the plot is completely mine. Promise :) It will get a lot better too, as the story progresses. And if you see any grammar mistakes, please don't hesitate to correct me! Thanks!

Chapter 1

Harry was running.

Running after Bellatrix as fast as he could. He shot as stunner in her direction, but she reacted so fast he barely had time to duck.

"Protego!" she screamed.

His own stunner bounced back at him.

"Potter I'm going to give you one chance!" shouted Bellatrix. "Give me the prophecy-roll it out towards me now-and I may spare your life!"

"Well you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Harry roared, and as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead; his scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury quite unconnected with his own.

"And he knows!" said Harry with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix's own. "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"What? What do you mean?" she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that then?"

His scar seared and burned…the pain of it was making his eyes stream…

"LIAR!" she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. "YOU'VE GOT IT POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME! Accio prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"

Harry laughed again, because he knew it would incense her, the pain was building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst.

He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him.

"Nothing there!" he shouted. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that!"

"No," she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED-DO NOT PUNISH ME-"

"Don't waste your breath!" yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I Potter?" said a high cold voice.

Tall, thin and black hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring…Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointed at Harry, who stood frozen, quite unable to move.

"Crap," he thought. He tried to think of something, anything to get him out of this mess he was in, while Voldemort was listening to Bellatrix's snivelling apologies. But strangely he wasn't afraid. He was about to say something when Voldemort spoke.

"I have nothing more to say to you Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Just at that moment the headless golden statue of the wizard, came alive and splayed itself, between Voldemort and Harry. The spell glanced off its shiny chest.

It was Dumbledore of course.

After Voldemort had disapparated with Bellatrix, ministry officials came flooding into the ministry.

"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall where Bellatrix had lain trapped, only moments before.

"I saw him Mr. Fudge, I swear it, it was You-Know-who; he grabbed a woman and disapparated!"

"I know Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge. "Merlin's beard-Here-in the ministry of magic-Great heavens above-this doesn't seem possible-my word-how can this be-?"

"I will explain everything later," said Dumbledore, "after Harry gets back to school."

''Portus,'' said Dumbledore. The head glowed blue and trembled against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more. Fudge was complaining, but Dumbledore turned his back on him. "Take this portkey Harry. I shall see you in half an hour."

Just as Harry put his finger on the already blue portkey, he faintly heard someone shout, "Motas Verada!"

Just as he was about to look up, and see what was going on, there was a tugging behind his navel, and he was jerked forward, and landed with a hard thump, just outside the entrance to Hogwarts. He looked up at the the doors leading to the looming castle that was his home, and cursed. He thought the Portkey was taking him to Dumbledore's office.

He was absolutely covered in blood, cuts and bruises. But the students of Hogwarts were probably used to it; he so often came in like this anyway. He walked forward but every time he did, he felt a horrible pain in his chest. He ignored it. It couldn't be that important anyway.

Even so he pulled up the hood of his cloak, and planned to rush up to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. With a bit of luck, there wouldn't be anyone in Great Hall anyway.

He took a deep breath, wiping away a few stray tears, and ignoring the urge to kick something, he put his hands on the great handles, and threw open the doors. It took up a good deal of force, and for some strange reason, he felt slightly drained. He took one look around him, and groaned softly. Everyone was having breakfast. The scent of bacon and eggs slowly wafted through his nostrils, causing his stomach to grumble. He was quite hungry.

The entire student body froze, staring at him. A few people looked scared, which sort of confused him. They knew who he was. It was only a little blood. They never really took much notice whenever it happened before. He supposed they were sort of used to it by now. So why act like this now? Took another look around. He could see Dumbledore up at the teacher's table.

Wait…Dumbledore? He should have been at the Ministry!

Or up in his office, waiting for Harry! Harry was a little peeved. Why was Dumbledore in here, he asked himself, enjoying a bit of breakfast, when he should have been either finishing up with Fudge, or up in his office, waiting to give Harry the explanation he so desperately needed right now? He sighed. He was just about to make his way out, when he heard Dumbledore himself address him.

"Who are you?" He had his wand pointed at Harry's chest. Harry was getting impatient now.

"It's me professor!" he hissed. What was Dumbledore playing at?

"Take down your hood," said Dumbledore quietly. What? No! He couldn't take off his hood! Everyone was already freaking out by seeing the little bit of blood on him that was already visible. If they saw his face there would be an even worse reaction, for sure.

"Look I'd rather not Sir," whispered Harry. This was quite annoying. Why did Dumbledore want him to take off his hood? Dumbledore knew what had just happened.

"Take down your hood," Dumbledore repeated menacingly. "Now."

Harry didn't understand. What was Dumbledore on about? He had never acted like this before now.

"Take it down!" Dumbledore warned.

"Alright!" Harry hissed.

He reluctantly pulled down his hood. Everyone gasped. A replica of James Potter was standing there, covered in blood.

A/N: Did you like it? I have the next few chapters written out already; I can post them soon! If you have any questions just PM me :) What do you think will happen next?

Hope you like it, anyway. This chapter is very short, but it will get much longer!

Cookies if you review :)

~ Quidditchexpert