Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I associated with anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, or any of the cast members of the movies.

---

Rain poured down all around as harshly as was physically possible. The air was frigid, and the wind seemed to reflect what was going on. There was no denying it: this was the end. Not just the end of the school year, but the end of an era. Whosoever lost this last battle lost the war, and lost more than their life, but the lives of others would also be affected. One wrong move and that would be it. It only took two words to take away a life.

There was no escape. A crowd had gathered on this hilltop to witness the fate of the known world. As a bolt of lightning cracked, a proverbial line became visible: two groups. One was dark, menacing, and cloaked to match the darkness of night. The other was fearful, yet hope was glimmering through their eyes as they watched a 17 year old boy walk toward his foe, toward his destiny.

A figure stood in front of the shadows. His face marred and hatred gleamed in his eyes. There was no denying that he was the very essence of evil, the epitome of greed and hatred. The Dark Lord watched this boy step before him. For a brief moment, a sense of awe struck him. How was it that this...boy...stood between him and the remnants of the world that awaited its destruction? Was he not afraid of facing the most powerful wizard of all time? Yet here he was! A boy! This awe revealed a slight grin as the Dark Lord realized the irony of the situation. After all, it was at this age that his power began to grow; a shadow of his present self, but still a powerful wizard. He dared not look at this boy as anything less than a threat. To his credit, the boy had lasted in a duel with him, and lived to tell about it. He had also finally solved his enigmatic secret knowledge of horcruxes. He knew something the boy did not, though. He would not lose this night. Not after everything that had happened, no he would not!

As Harry Potter walked forward to meet his adversary, he knew fear. There was no denying that he was ready for this, but that didn’t make it any easier. His friends were behind him. As he thought back on recent events, his heart hardened. It was this...this...thing in front of him that had taken away almost all that he held dear. He would not stand to let this go. There was no way!

Both men drew their wands. The moment was drawing nearer, and the anticipation was felt. Lord Voldemort raised his left hand, drawing with it a sword that looked all too familiar to Harry. He knew what that had to be. As a realization hit him, he lost a little faith. Regrouping fast, he took a few more steps to the dark figure ahead of him. The Dark Lord passed the sword to another man and walked forward. No one moved. Not a sound was uttered.

Time itself stood still. A moment that had been waited upon for almost 18 years had arrived. The rain stopped as the wind held its breath. As a bolt of lightning struck the ground directly between the two duelists, two curses were said. Simultaneously, two green bolts erupted from the wands and hurled directly at their opponents...



Harry awoke screaming. He looked around. It was only a dream, wasn’t it? That moment couldn’t have happened…after all, he had only been back at Privet Dr for a couple weeks. He stood up, rubbing his eyes as he looked out the window into the darkness. The darkness that would be as whole as ever until the events that took place in his dream became reality. Would it happen that way, Harry thought. Would I lose that much before that moment comes? And when will this occur? Harry’s thoughts were driving him mad as he returned to his bed.

For these past couple weeks, he’d been thinking about the very same night. Not as vivid as this dream, but nevertheless, the same night. It had been a very interesting beginning to the summer. After he’d gotten home, he was “requested” to tell the Dursleys exactly what had been going on and to explain why he left so abruptly last summer. Though it took a lot of patience and a lot of endurance (after all, having his name be “idiot,” “boy,” and “one of them” for several minutes, it became hard to concentrate!), Harry explained the whole story. All the while, fear crept into the hearts of Number 4’s occupants as the realization of the events of the wizarding world were suddenly slurred with their own. Though he was ignored more, which Harry thought was gracious of them, they gave him a little more respect. A little is perhaps too generous of a word, but at least he wasn’t subjected to many insults since his arrival.

He was glad he had Hermione and Ron. He probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. As a matter of fact, he knew he wouldn’t. After all they’d been there for him through the puzzles of his first year, the Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament, and so much more. He couldn’t imagine life without them, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to. They were his heart and soul. Lying back down, he reminisced on happier times...

He thought of the first time he met Hermione and Ron. He remembered their investigations through every year at Hogwarts. He thought about the Chamber of Secrets and saving Ginny. Then he remembered the end of his sixth year. He remembered their walks by the lake, the feeling of her fingers intertwined with his, the taste of her lips on his...

He stopped right there. He knew that he’d rushed that decision, but he knew it was right. He cared so much about her, but he wouldn’t allow her to be hurt. Not ever, not as long as his name was Harry James Potter. After all, his father had died for the woman he loved...wait, love? Did he love Ginny? Could he? No, it couldn’t have happened. But yet, there it was. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone. He would take this love to his grave, if it meant that was how it ended. Otherwise, maybe after the battle he could chance it. If he lived, that is.

He gave up on reasoning this point, and fell back asleep. His dreams were of those happier moments. But darkness always loomed in the distance of these moments. That would soon end. One way or the other, it would soon end.

---

Ginny wasn’t the only thing on Harry’s mind. She was just one of the many things that he’d lost recently. Sirius was still the lowest blow, but losing Dumbledore instilled a fear in Harry’s heart that he could not ignore. If this dream came to pass, surely he would lose. Without Dumbledore behind him, what was he to do...

That last day with Dumbledore was on an endless loop in Harry’s head as tomorrow became the present. The trip to the cave where Voldemort had cursed the other children when he was younger had been a bit more than Harry expected. The lake was eerie, and the events with the Inferi haunted him each time his mind retraced that expedition. How close had he come to his death in that cave?! Luckily Dumbledore was there to save him...yet that had been Dumbledore’s second to last mistake, was drinking that accursed fluid Harry poured down his throat. Harry cursed himself under his breath. It was his fault Dumbledore was weakened before Snape had finished him off. There was no other explanation. And he would pay. Oh, yes, if it was the last thing Harry did, he would meet up with his old professor. How could he have not seen it coming? But, come to think of it, he’d been the only one to see it! He thought Draco Malfoy was up to something, and it turns out he was. He told his friends to watch out on the night he and Dumbledore left, and had it not been for his advice, they would surely have shared his headmaster’s fate. He’d never be able to forgive himself if Ron, Hermione, or Ginny died and he wasn’t able to stop it. He’d lost so much already that losing one of his closest friends would be the end of him.

Along with these thoughts came thoughts of the promises he’d made at the end of the school year. He promised Ron and Hermione he’d be there for Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and he would honor his word. He would also return, for the first time since that fateful night sixteen years ago, to Godric’s Hollow. He needed retribution, and he wanted to find it at the resting place of his parents. The incident at the graveyard his fourth year at Hogwarts had left a lasting mark on his soul, and he longed to be comforted like that again. The comfort he felt when he saw his mother and father. His parents had rescued him…again. The moment wasn’t long enough, and he hoped that by returning to their home in the Hollow, he would find some comfort from his parents. At the very least, something he could take with him to remind him of his parents. His memory swept yet again through the years to his introduction to the Order of the Phoenix preceding his fifth year.

Mad-Eye Moody had shown him a picture of the original Order, and his eyes locked right onto his parents. They looked so happy, all of them did. Sirius was there, even Dumbledore. In the midst of all the danger taking place around them, they were content to be who they were, where they were. Harry hoped that the Order would once again have that closeness about them before the final battle, yet feared that would never come to pass. With Dumbledore gone, Sirius gone, and a few more out of action, the Order was shrinking in numbers. Perhaps it was time that he joined them. They would need him, after all. He would have to inform them of the Prophecy, but that would be fine. He wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to protect the ones he loved. Never again would Voldemort take someone away from him. If Harry couldn’t stop it, he’d push them away so they wouldn’t be in danger. He didn’t mind being hurt by being alone: just as long as it was only him who was hurt, and not someone he cared about.

Finally, his mind brought him to the end of his last year, his sixth at Hogwarts. Everything was going fine, until the end. He had Ginny and his friends, he had Dumbledore, and he had a chance against Voldemort. With Dumbledore behind him, they would definitely win this war. But the Dark Lord knew he had to dispose of the only wizard he ever feared before his course would be clear. Harry dreaded thinking about it, but he knew what he had to do. The path in front of him was not going to be an easy one, and the sooner he got onto it, the better. For as soon as he set foot on that path, the faster the final confrontation would take place.

He’d made up his mind before he even got back that he would leave as early as possible. He’d kept his promise to Dumbledore, as had his aunt and uncle. He needed to start searching for the other horcruxes, and he needed to start now. His relatives wouldn’t need a full explanation: they’d already received that. He just had to decide when to tell them, and explain that he wasn’t coming back. They’d be overjoyed to hear that for sure! With a determined feel about him, he got up and went to his desk. The sky was growing lighter, meaning that the day was approaching. The sun never came out anymore, as the mist and cloudiness was too much for the sun’s rays to penetrate.

Harry sat at his desk and grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment. He would write to Ron, telling him that he would need a ride back to the Burrow for the wedding and to make it as soon as possible. He put the quill to the parchment and wrote:

Hey, Ron.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I’ve been kind of stuck in my own world for a while, but I have come to the conclusion that I need to start fulfilling the promise I made, and start looking swiftly. I’d love to meet up with you sometime in the near future, so let me know when that can be, and how, and I’ll see you then. Hope your summer’s going better than mine,

Harry

Content with the letter after a couple re-reads, he gently pulled Hedwig out of her cage. She wasn’t very content at all, seeing as how her summers consisted of being locked in a birdcage, but she was more concerned this summer than all the rest for some reason. It was almost as if she could sense that something was bothering Harry, and something that was beyond his or anyone’s control. She was truly a smart bird. Harry tied the letter to Ron around her leg. She nipped his fingers affectionately, and stood waiting for more instructions.

“Hedwig, I need you to take this to Ron at the Burrow. It’s important he gets this as soon as you can get it to him. I need to meet up with him so I can start getting a move on this mission of mine. Can you do that?”

The snow owl gave him another nip on the fingers and a deep hoot of confirmation before beating her wings and flying out of the window.

Well, that’s one thing taken care of, thought Harry. Now all he had to do was let his relatives know about his plans, and await the reply from Ron. And save the wizarding world while he was at it, which, of course, would be a cinch. It’d probably be as easy as catching a Snitch out of thin air while a tornado was ripping through London at top velocity. Nervous though he was, Harry started to pack his things. He knew it’d be a little while before he got word from Ron, but he had to be ready for anything. After all, last year around this time, Dumbledore himself came to pick him up on rather late notice. As he sat in the middle of his room, half his things packed, Harry thought about what he was going to say to his aunt and uncle. He wanted to make it quick and to the point, yet something tugged at his heart to make it a little more meaningful. Chances were that this would be the last conversation with either of them he would have.

---

The gloomy day dragged on as Harry continued packing his things. He continually got distracted by his books on Quidditch from Hermione, and the old notes he’d received from years past as he relived each moment one more time. Many of the things in the letters he’d forgotten already. Had it been that long since these events took place? Even the letters during the summer before his fifth year which later infuriated him, seemed like a distant memory. After each letter, he’d put it away, reflect a little more, and feel his anticipation and anxiety grow waiting for Ron’s reply letter. After all the letters had been sorted out, the books put away, and his clothes crammed into his trunks, he turned towards the door. Although he’d been distracted with the letters and books and packing, he had also thought about what he was going to say to his relatives for their last conversation.

Making up his mind, he walked to the door with a purpose. As he walked down the stairs, his walk became slower. By the time he’d reached the bottom of the stairs, he knew exactly what he would say, and how he would put it to them. Walking into the kitchen, he got everybody’s attention. After all, it’d been a while since he’d walked purposefully into a room with them in it. Let alone walk right up to Vernon himself!

“Well, boy,” he said as Harry took a seat, “you seem to be quite confident today. Any particular reason? You aren’t having any of those...those...well, your kind over here anytime soon, are you?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I was just coming down to talk to you and Aunt Petunia about leaving...”

Harry waited for this statement to sink in before continuing. There was quite the change in atmosphere as Uncle Vernon fell back into his seat with the most surprised look on his face that Harry had ever seen. He chose that moment to add...

“...for good.”

If Harry had a camera, he sure could’ve used quite a few roles of film now! Vernon’s face wasn’t the purple color it usually was when he was upset. No, quite the contrary, to be honest. It was glowing brightly. So brightly, in fact, that Harry could not recall the last time he ever saw Uncle Vernon this happy, or if he’d ever seen his uncle this happy, for that matter.

“Is this true?! Well, Harry, tell me more, my boy! When is this, err, event, going to take place?”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. I’ve just sent word to my friend, Ron, and asked him if he could meet me somewhere. In the past, err, my kind have come directly here to pick me up. This time I’m saving you the trouble.”

“This is spectacular news, Harry! I say, spectacular news!” Finally, this boy would be out of his home, and FOR GOOD, he said!! This was a day he would remember for the rest of his life…the day his dreams came true, Vernon told himself. Nothing could destroy this feeling. Not even if one of those dementee, demen…those big black sucky things came into his house, or the old man, or a flying car...It was ALL going to be over, and soon!

The fact that Uncle Vernon was using Harry’s name (and my boy?!) told him that this was going to work as he’d planned. Shocked though he was at his uncle’s drastic change in treatment towards him, he continued.

“I’m already packed. I spent all day going through my things. I promise I won’t leave anything behind. And as soon as I hear something from Ron, I’ll let you know when I’m leaving, and take off.”

“Well that is certainly taking care of business, boy! Why couldn’t you have shown this much aptitude earlier in your life?!” Uncle Vernon tried to calm himself, and mildly succeeded. “Harry, I just wanted to say...”

But before he could say anything, there was a loud crack coming from the living room. Everyone stood still, expecting something to blow up. Then a familiar voice was heard…

“Harry? Harry, are you there?”

Harry knew that voice. It was Ron! That must mean he was using the fireplace to let him know what was going on. He didn’t think Hedwig would fly that fast! He suddenly remembered where he was, and looked up at his uncle, expecting a red-faced man ready to explode. Instead, he saw almost a proud look on his face as he looked back at Harry.

“Well, why don’t you answer him? You said as soon as you knew something, didn’t you? In fact, I’ll even join you. Come Petunia, Dudley, let’s all go!”

Petunia and Dudley weren’t sure how to take the situation. Truth be told, they’d never seen Vernon like this either. The fact that he was willingly talking to someone who performed magic was strange enough. But they followed him cautiously into the den area, where Harry was already in conversation with the...the...face in the fireplace?

“So you got my message, then?” Harry said breathlessly.

“What? Oh, yeah, we did,” replied Ron, just remembering the owl. “When did you send the thing? Hedwig is exhausted!”

“This morning, early. I’ve never seen her fly that fast before.”

“Neither have I, Harry. Anyways, my mum wanted me to let you know that dad’s already getting a rental car to pick you up. He’ll be taking a Trixie, I think it’s called.”

“A taxi,” Harry laughed. He forgot what it was like to laugh and actually have a fun conversation.

“Yeah, one of those. He doesn’t want to be conspicuous. He said he wanted you to stay at your house, though, until he gets there.”

Harry turned fast, fearing what his uncle would say. Vernon, however, sat there beaming, and actually leaned into the fireplace!

“Ron, is it? Harry is welcome to stay until your father picks him up. As long as he doesn’t come in, that is. I’d rather not have to redo something else that’ll blow up or something, you know?” he chuckled as he leaned back out. This was bizarre, Harry told himself.

“Well great then,” Ron responded. “He said he should be there by tomorrow afternoon sometime, so be ready, Harry.”

“I’m already packed,” Harry and Vernon said in unison. Ron sensed the strangeness of the situation, recalling the past few encounters with Harry’s uncle, and wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation.

“Alright, well I guess I’ll see you soon then. Bye, Harry.”

“Bye Ron,” Harry said, as the head of his friend in the fireplace disappeared. If he’d have been told that morning that he’d be gone from here the following afternoon, he wouldn’t have believed it. But it was true!

“Well, I’d say it’s time for a meal, wouldn’t you?” Uncle Vernon said, breaking his train of thought. “What would you all like to have? Pizza? Hamburgers? We can even go out if you’d like!”

Never in Harry’s dreams would he have imagined this possibility! But as it was his last night with these...relatives, he would accept their hospitality for the first and last time.

---

Dinner with the Dursleys wasn’t the most fun Harry had recently had. He wouldn’t have even ranked it in the top 100 things. But it did rank, however. Actually having a meal with them was one thing, but not being insulted or talked down too (too much, anyways) was also unique. Uncle Vernon continually calling the waitress for more food was kind of a nuisance, and Dudley trying to put the moves on some of the younger girls in the place was also very interesting. Trying, but not succeeding, Harry snickered to himself. It wasn’t the family he wanted. But for at least one night, he wouldn’t regret being related to this one.

Dudley drove home, the situation being that Uncle Vernon had consumed a few too many alcoholic beverages, and Petunia was too paranoid of that “Volde-what’s-his-face-thing” attacking them while Harry was away. The entire trip home, Harry tried to let her know that, by him leaving, there was no chance that would happen. He had to do this with shorted breath, however, as being in a car with Dudley driving was quite an adventure, and not the good kind! By the time they’d gotten home, Petunia was a new shade of white after the near-collisions with an older couple, three other vehicles (one being a double-decker bus), and several small animals (some regretfully did not survive to pass on their story). Vernon, however, could be heard from a block away, with his talk about how he was proud of his boy, Dudders, and he was glad to get rid of Harry (he still used his first name, remarkably).

As they all bedded down, Harry lay awake in his bed. A lot of lasts was this night. He wondered how many more nights like this he would have. If things went ill during his...confrontation with Voldemort, he would have had his last night at the Burrow, his last night with his friends, his last breath...

He shuddered at the thought, and decided to turn his thoughts to something more comforting: Hogwarts. He was still debating with himself about returning. How could he? Dumbledore wouldn’t be there. One good thing was that Snape wouldn’t be returning either. He’d told both Ron and Hermione that he probably wouldn’t go back just a couple weeks ago. Yet why was he debating so harshly with himself over a choice that was seemingly already made? He knew the answer well before he’d even asked it, as it was his argument for going back: Hogwarts was his home.

He’d never known a place where he felt safer and more loved than Hogwarts. It wasn’t without its misgivings, his enemies, and other imperfections, but it was without a doubt the place that Harry regarded as a sanctuary from the outside world. A large portion of his life was lived within those grounds, and to not finish what he started would be ridiculous. Yet how would he protect his friends if he was in Hogwarts? How would he find the horcruxes and finish this war? Another thought scared him…what would he do if he weren’t there to protect them? If he were away from Hogwarts, he wouldn’t be there to save anybody should something occur.

Well, I have the whole summer to think about it, Harry told himself. His sleep was a fitful one; his dreams filled with more possibilities of what was to come, and always ending with the rainstorm on top of that hill.

---

The following morning, Harry slept in. All that needed to be done was already done: he was packed, ready to go, and goodbyes were pretty much said (whether or not you counted Uncle Vernon’s nonsensical rubbish at the end of the night as a good bye). When he awoke, he grabbed his trunk, Hedwig’s cage, and walked down the stairs for the last time. He grabbed a bite to eat, sitting at the kitchen table. Dudley was playing video games next to him, so he just kept to himself. After his meal, he walked over to the den area and sat on the couch nearest the window. He could see Mr. Weasley coming from here.

After waiting for nearly two hours, a taxi pulled up. Harry rushed to the door, remembering Uncle Vernon’s words to keep Mr. Weasley out of the house. As soon as he opened the door, he was pounced upon by what appeared to be a bushel of brown hair. Startled, he pulled back a little, and he was able to hear a voice coming from the bushel.

“Harry, we missed you!”

He knew this voice to be Hermione Granger’s, and a smile came to his lips. Ron was also at the door, with a big smile on his face. Mr. Weasley was behind Ron at the car, trying to figure out how to pay the driver.

“I’ll help you,” Harry said, as he led his two best friends out from Number Four Privet Dr, walking out of the house for the final time in his life. He looked back, and smiled. Never again would he have to be bothered by these three Muggles again!

Mr. Weasley told the driver that he’d pay him when they got back to downtown London. He turned around and reached his hand out to greet Harry. The young wizard grabbed the outstretched hand and shook it firmly, glad to be back in the company of the ones he loved. This was his family, and they always would be. As he was about to open the door, it opened, and out stepped a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl with the most radiantly red hair Harry had known. He knew this angel, and as he looked into Ginny Weasley’s eyes, he felt himself smile his biggest smile yet. She reached out her arms and pulled Harry into a big hug. He couldn’t have been happier.

Inside the taxi, he sat between Ginny and Ron. Ginny wasn’t as talkative as Harry remembered. He wanted to talk to her and further explain what happened and why they couldn’t be together, but he couldn’t do that just yet. There would be a time for that later. He would just wait until then.

“So Harry, were your aunt and uncle glad to see you go?” Ron asked.

“I can’t remember if they’ve ever treated me like a family member before yesterday, to answer your question,” Harry responded. Looking around, he saw all smiles and everyone laughed at this comment. They all knew the hardships he had endured as a child growing up, and even into his teenage years. Harry never realized how much he had missed laughing and smiling and actually enjoying life. His mind wasn’t on Voldemort. It wasn’t about those he’d lost. It was about the love he felt for every member of this car (minus the taxi driver, but in this mood, he might just include him for the moment). They returned to downtown London, and Mr. Weasley had him pull up into an older part of the city. Harry knew this part of London from two summers past as soon as he saw a very familiar phone booth right next to where the taxi stopped. He helped Mr. Weasley pay for the taxi, and they all walked up to the phone booth.

“No, you’re not going to go to the Ministry today, Harry,” Mr. Weasley softly, as if to calm Harry down. The past two times he’d been here had not been the most pleasant of visits.

“Ron, Hermione, you both know how to successfully Apparate, correct?” he asked. Both shook their heads yes.

“And Harry, you as well?” Harry confirmed this.

“Okay, then. Listen up, everybody. You will all Apparate to the Burrow as soon as I’m gone. I have some business to attend to at the Ministry. Ginny, you just grab onto somebody, and they’ll take you.”

“Okay, dad,” Ginny replied, and wrapped her arms around Harry as soon as Mr. Weasley had used the phone booth to get to work. Harry felt comforted, yet at the same time, awkward. After all, he and Ginny were no longer together. He ignored it, and concentrated hard on the Burrow. As he stepped forward and spun, his world started swirling as if he was being sucked down a drain. He felt his feet leave the floor for just a moment. Then the floor reappeared. The blurs faded away, and he saw the Burrow. Oh, how he’d missed it. Ginny let go and backed away a little as Ron and Hermione came back. They all walked into the Weasley’s house together, where Harry was greeted by Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Fleur, Bill’s fiancée. The sights and smells that were so familiar all came floating back to Harry as he settled in. At least for now, his worries weren’t the center of his life, and he could enjoy the company of his friends. No one could touch him now, not even Voldemort. He felt at home, at peace, and happy.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I associated with anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, or any of the cast members of the movies.

---

For the next couple weeks before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Harry enjoyed his life. He was finally away from the Dursleys, and he was where he wanted to be. Ron and Hermione hardly ever left his side, and the trio’s bond as friends grew even stronger. Although Ginny was distant, her and Harry were able to talk to one another on a different level. It was as if Harry was living in a dream-world that he never wanted to leave. So, naturally, he feared waking up, and each night, he did indeed wake up in cold sweats with nightmares; images he couldn’t get out of his head. He wasn’t sure what to do, or how to overcome this. Was it a weakness? Or was this really what was going to happen? After each time he would wake up, the following day would be just a fraction worse than the previous, and he could feel the darkness slowly creeping back into his mind.

Harry finally thought it best to tell Ron and Hermione what was going on. Not just about his dreams, but about his plans for the summer, and the school year. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but it was something he had to do. On the afternoon of the day preceding the wedding, he pulled his two best friends aside. This was unusual, as he almost always spoke to them in front of everyone, telling jokes and having a good time. The difference in Harry’s attitude was certainly enough to scare Hermione.

"Harry, what’s wrong," she asked, looking alarmed.

"Yeah, mate, you seem a little pale," Ron agreed. There was something on his mind that was troubling him.

"Well," Harry began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past few weeks on a lot of different things. I mean, you remember how last school year ended, with the funeral and everything. I said then that I wanted to go back to Godric’s Hollow, and I will as soon as the wedding’s over. I feel that this is a trip that I should make alone."

"Harry, we said that we’d go with you, and we aren’t going to let you go by yourself," Hermione said, but not in her usual bossy tone. There was a gentleness and much concern in her voice as she continued.

"I personally don’t want to let you go alone because I feel we’re a family, the three of us. I mean, I don’t want you to continue hurting by yourself. I want to be there for you, in your good times and your bad ones. And besides, what are friends for? Ron and I will always be with you, no matter what."

"Hermione’s right, Harry," Ron continued. "You’re not going without us on this trip. We said we’d go, and so we will. We’re with you ‘til the end."

Harry had never felt so grateful for his friends than he did at this moment. It was one thing for a friend to say they’ll follow you wherever you go, but these two have proven it. And not just once, but on several occasions. Make that several occasions...per year! He knew he could count on them, and so he agreed.

"Alright, alright, I’ll give in. But I’m just not sure what to expect on this trip. I mean, what if something bad happens?"

"Then we’ll be right there beside you, to whatever end," Ron said with a smile.

"That’s not all, though. I also told both of you that I wasn’t sure if I was going back to Hogwarts this next year or not." Judging from the sad look that came across Hermione’s face, Harry thought it best to further explain.

"The thing is...all last year, Dumbledore and I researched into Voldemort’s past, and what I saw was, to say the least, scary. It’s almost as if he was born evil. Even as a small child, he found ways of manipulating others by fear. As it turns out, he found a way to almost make himself invincible: horcruxes. Now, a horcrux is anything you want it to be. After you kill someone, your soul is ripped in two. If you know how, you can put half of your soul into an object. Any object you want. Dumbledore said that Tom Riddle’s diary second year was one of these, and he found and destroyed another. That’s why his hand was black last year."

Both Ron and Hermione caught on rather quick, remembering Dumbledore’s withered looking hand during their sixth year. Harry rather regretted not hearing the whole story of what had happened, as Dumbledore had promised to tell him.

"As it turns out, there are 7 pieces of Voldemort’s soul in existence. Two of which have been destroyed. The night Dumbledore...the night we left, we went to a cave and found a third one. That was the necklace I was holding. In it had a note from someone named R.A.B. I’m not sure who that is, but it seemed as though he was one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters who was turning against him. The necklace I found was a fake, and this Death Eater, whoever he is, has the real one."

"So," Hermione interrupted, "what you’re saying is that, you’ve got to find the other five horcruxes before you can even kill him?"

"Well, four horcruxes. The seventh piece of his soul is still in his body, and that’s the last piece I have to destroy."

"Man, I know this sounds mean, but I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about that," Ron said absentmindedly. He felt guilty after saying it, and put his head down.

"Well, I don’t want to have to worry about it either, Ron, but it’s something that I’ve got to do, whether I like it or not. I mean, I could just walk right up to him and let him kill me-"

"NO," both Ron and Hermione shouted at the same time. Well, at least they don’t want me to do that, Harry thought to himself.

"Just kidding, you two. I have an idea what three of the four remaining horcruxes are, but I’m not sure what the last one could be. That’s why I thought about not going back this year, so that I can actually finish this, and with me away from Hogwarts, I would assume Voldemort would follow me and leave the school alone."

"Yes, but Harry...what if he doesn’t leave the school alone, and attacks when you’re gone?" Hermione asked emphatically.

"That’s why I’m going back; to make sure that doesn’t happen." Harry had made up his mind just then that it was best to be with his friends. He would work something out with whomever the headmaster was this year, and take time off to search for the horcruxes. This way, he had the best of both worlds (if it was to be considered the best of anything at all, for that matter), and judging from the expressions on his friends’ faces, he’d made the right choice.

"Thank you, Harry. It’s not Hogwarts without you," Hermione said, and gave him another hug.

"Dinner time, you three," Mrs. Weasley said in her usual joyful voice. As the trio turned for supper, Ron pulled Harry aside. There was one thing that was bothering him, and he needed to ask Harry about this without anyone else around.

"Say, Harry, what are you planning on doing about Ginny?" Ron asked. This had been bothering him for some time.

"Why do you ask," Harry replied, not wanting to get into this right now.

"Well," Ron said slowly, "she’s been a lot quieter since the end of last year. I asked her about it, and she said you broke up with her at the funeral. I’m worried, as she spends more time in her room than she usually does, and she’s made herself scarce around the three of us all summer. So, I guess I was just wondering why you broke up with her, and what you’re going to do about her this year."

Harry remained silent and looked at the floor as if it were a television show that fascinated him. He did not want to think about his feelings for Ginny, and certainly not aloud. And he never thought about telling Ron about it, either. After all, Ron had been sort of awkward about the whole thing, so why would he want to know? Harry knew that he wanted to be with Ginny, now more than ever before, but he couldn’t risk it. Should he tell her brother this?

"Harry?" Ron interrupted his thoughts.

"Look, Ron," Harry began, knowing he had to choose his words wisely. "I care a lot about Ginny, and I never, ever wanted to hurt her. That’s why I broke up with her: I don’t want Voldemort to go after her to get to me because of my feelings for your sister. As far as this year is concerned, it’ll be hard for both of us, but if we just have some more distance, at least until this thing is over, then I think it’ll be for the best."

Harry wasn’t sure whether he’d said too much or not, but Ron didn’t look as pleased as he’d hoped he would.

"I guess, mate, I guess." Ron didn’t know what else to say. His best friend obviously was also having a hard time with this, but wouldn’t at least give it a chance. After all, if there was ever a time to need love and caring, it was most certainly now. Both boys went to the kitchen to join the family for supper. Neither one spoke about Ginny, and acted as if it was something that was never discussed. Yet both knew that this was a conversation that would definitely be held later on when time permitted.

---

When they all woke up, reality set in. Today was, after all, a happy day: a wedding day! Fleur had already left to prepare, and Bill was as antsy as ever at breakfast by the time Harry and Ron came downstairs. In his mind, Bill thought that this day would be a great day, no problems. He never expected to be this nervous. His stomach was in knots, and he seemed to be having trouble breathing some of the time. His mind also had a tough time comprehending what people were saying, so he’d give them answers that he thought would work, such as "Yeah, that’s great," or "I know what you mean." When he got a strange look, he knew he got the wrong reply to the wrong comment, but he was too worried to worry about it.

Mrs. Weasley was cleaning up a storm, but she couldn’t help but be amused by her son’s actions this morning. He acted just as her husband did before they were married. He could hardly finish a sentence when they spoke before the wedding, and couldn’t speak at all during it! Oh, how she loved recalling that day. It wasn’t a big wedding by any means. Most of the people who attended were family members, with some friends that finished Hogwarts at around the same time they did. The Potters were there, Sirius Black was there, and a vast majority of the original Order of the Phoenix came as well. Mrs. Weasley chuckled at the thought of her dress. She loved her dress, yet could not find anyone to carry the train, so she had to bewitch it to follow her at an elevated height! It would have been embarrassing had it not been for Arthur’s face. As soon as he saw her, it didn’t matter what she wore, and she knew it. His face looked as if he was seeing her for the first time, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Their first few years of marriage were great. They had Bill and Charlie almost immediately. Shortly thereafter came Percy, the twins, then Ron, and lastly, Ginny. A large family, but she wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. She always knew this day would come, and what a time for a wedding!

The house was busy and bustling with excitement as the moment drew nearer. Mrs. Weasley had everybody do their fair share of work to prepare the place as best they could. Being a rather violent time in their lives, the wedding had to be held at the Burrow, so she wanted it to be as memorable for her son and her future daughter-in-law as she could. Overseeing all operations, she made all who were helping do twice as good a job as normal. For Ron, this was not a fun task, as he had the job of making sure the gnomes were kept in an enchanted area and wouldn’t make any noises. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at Ron’s fruitless efforts in trying to catch them. Crookshanks actually took pity on him and chased a few at him. The first actually knocked him off his feet in surprise! Of course, the best at choosing a moment to arrive, Fred and George Weasley Apparated just at that moment to see their beloved brother being toppled over by a gnome, all of ten inches tall. Being the older brothers, they naturally felt the need to fulfill their obligation and insisted on bringing it up the remainder of the day at the most inopportune moments for Ron, making his whole face turn bright shades of red.

Hermione and Ginny worked as a team on the decorations for the outside of the house. Mrs. Weasley taught them how to materialize garland and they were doing a marvelous job. Even Mrs. Weasley complimented, gaining a hard look from Ron, who was exhausted, red, and sweaty after catching only three gnomes out of the group of eight. Harry had the delight of teaching Mr. Weasley how to blow up balloons. Thinking it was an easy task, Harry told Mr. Weasley briefly how to blow them up, demonstrating the techniques. Mr. Weasley, not being sure how to hold it, ended up letting one go, and absolutely loved the sound that it made. He loved it so much, in fact, that he insisted on blowing up every balloon five times, and letting them go! Naturally, doing this activity in such a manner took most of the afternoon. By the time the sun cast an orange glow on the Burrow, everything was prepared. Bill had left some time earlier, per Mrs. Weasley’s orders (so as not to spoil the surprise), and everybody had gotten dressed. Harry and Ron wore their dress-robes from school, Fred and George wore some very fine, deep green suits made from dragon skins, Hermione wore a light blue summer dress, Ginny had on a violet, very formal gown (which made Harry “involuntarily” stare at her several times), and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had on their best outfits. All was set, except one thing.

It was a tradition with the Weasleys to make a bell that would sound as the marrying couple would share their first kiss in wedlock. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley got everybody in a circle, and started making shapes in the air with their wands. Harry and the rest followed, and soon enough, a bright light formed at the center of the circle. By the combined magic of the family, the light grew, and took shape as a huge bell, then shot up into the sky, and hovered above where the couple would say their vows. It was quite a sight to see, this bell. Completely comprised of enchantment, it glowed brightly, illuminating the entire yard in a dazzling display. The wedding was finally set and ready to take place.

Shortly after making the bell, a friend of the Weasley family, Remus Lupin, came forth in a black suit with a cross necklace. He was to conduct the wedding. The Order arrived after he did, and all made their own seats out of thin air, as the Weasleys weren’t able to supply that many. As they all took their seats, Bill Weasley arrived, and walked down the aisle. His parents stood up and welcomed him with their smiles; their indescribable joy shown in their eyes as their son passed them. After he had taken his place beside Remus, they walked out to the middle, put their wands together, and created a red carpet. It wasn’t the best carpet, but it would do for the ceremony.

Two latecomers arrived just then, apologizing emphatically to all for their lateness: Percy and Charlie Weasley. Charlie went up to his brother and gave him a great hug. Bill tried his best to return the hug, but his stomach’s knots seemed to have bounded his arms to his sides as well. Charlie turned and walked to his brother’s side.

"It is time, everybody," said Remus. He signaled to Charlie, and Charlie pointed his wand at the bell. In an instant, a sweet, gentle melody floated down over the small gathering of friends and family. A small girl, younger than Ginny, walked down the aisle timidly. She held flowers in her hand, and gently placed them on the ground as she passed. The last thing in her basket was a ring, which she kept in there. Turning around, she stood opposite of Charlie and waited. All eyes turned to the back of the aisle, which concealed the last person who would walk down it. Again, Remus signaled to Charlie, who raised his wand again at the bell, and the music stopped. As anticipation grew, Charlie whispered an incantation, and the bell started playing a familiar, joyous march.

Bill couldn’t breathe. This was it! Reminding himself to breathe, he looked on, waiting...waiting...Then there she was. If Bill was having trouble breathing before, he definitely had a problem now, as not only his breath but his words failed him as well. All eyes followed his gaze to his bride. Harry had known that Fleur was beautiful, as she was part veela, but nothing could have prepared him for this. As she came out, she held her head high, and wore a smile that competed with the bell for brilliance. Her hair was pulled up, and all could see it was a flawless job. Her dress, all white, was glittering all over with crystals; the train reached out no more than four feet behind her, yet she seemed to be gliding through the crowd. As she proceeded forward, not a word was spoken as everyone stared in awe at her magnificence and beauty. Gracefully reaching the end of the aisle, Bill was able to start breathing again. Then he pulled her veil back, and again was awestruck. This is my bride, he said to himself with pride, and he could not resist a smile. All eyes turned to the couple, as Remus started to speak.

"Dearly beloved, friends and families from all over, we are gathered here on this blessed day to bear witness to the union of these two young people. In a time when happiness is scarce and high spirits are rare, a joyous event such as this is a most welcome sight. All here have lost much in recent times, but today, we are given the blessing of seeing a new beginning in this marriage. Let us not hope, but have complete confidence that this day is just one of many more that are on their way, and that the darkness that clouds this world now will soon disappear.

"Today, we witness the marriage of Bill Weasley to Fleur Delacour. I will now ask you to recite your wedding vows to one another."

Bill could not take his eyes off of Fleur. He didn’t even reach in his pocket for the vows he had written earlier. He looked at her with all the love and compassion a man is capable of, and said what was in his heart.

"I’ve never known a person like you in my life. I never knew what it was like to be alone until the first time we parted. I never knew what love felt like until your lips met mine. When we touched for the first time, I felt more alive than ever, and when I first saw you smile, my heart stopped beating for a moment. On the day I confessed my love for you, I gave you my heart. Today, I give you my life and my eternal love. Never will I love another as I love you, and I will spend every waking moment of my life from now until time stops showing you how much. You are my heart, my happiness, my life, and I have never been as happy as I am today, to be able to call you my wife. I love you, Fleur and I will always love, protect, honor, and trust you for every day that goes by until my last."

Fleur didn’t know how to respond to that. Never had her heart felt so truly complete. She had spent so many hours working on what she was going to say, and dreaming of what he was going to say. On this day, a day she would never, ever forget, her husband-to-be spoke every word she always wanted to hear. As she looked deeply into his eyes, she spoke, at first barely more than a whisper. Once her voice returned to her, she spoke with more passion than she knew she had.

"Bill, I will never forget ze day we met. Eet was almost by acceedent, yet eet was meant to be. I couldn’t wait unteel ze next time I would see you, and zat feeling grew each time we parted. I now know why zey call eet falling een love. A fall ees a risk, as ees love. But I learned zat eef I fell, you’d be zere to catch me. I 'ave always dreamed of meeting a man such as you. Someone who would take care of me, who would love me, who would look past my faults and see who I really was. You not only did zat, but when I gave you my 'eart, you took eet een your 'ands, kissed eet, and 'eld eet up for all the world to see. I never knew I could love zis much, and yet I feel zat my love will grow stronger with each moment I spend as your wife. I love you more zan life itself, and I will always love, 'onor, and trust you with my life, my 'eart, and my 'appiness."

If the entire audience wasn’t crying after Bill’s vows, they certainly were after Fleur’s. The atmosphere was sacred, as if God himself were personally blessing the ground upon which this celebration of happiness was taking place. The couple locked eyes once more, and whispers of love only audible to each other were passed back and forth to the other. Charlie handed Bill the ring, which he gently placed on Fleur’s finger. Fleur’s younger sister passed her Bill’s ring, and she repeated in kind his movements. Now hand in hand, and only inches apart, they turned to Remus, who smiled and spoke once more.

"Both of you have declared before all present that you will love, honor, protect, and trust the other. You have promised that you will live together for the rest of your days as man and wife, and have passed rings to one another, symbolizing the eternal love shared between the two of you. So, by the authority vested in me, I am pleased to pronounce you husband and wife. Bill, you may kiss your bride."

As Bill placed his hands on Fleur’s face, he was overcome with joy. Fleur, whose radiance was glowing with every movement she made, leaned in to Bill’s kiss. As their lips met softly in their first kiss as husband and wife, there was nothing in the world but love. A love that would never die, and would never be forsaken. After eternity had opened her eyes again to the world, Bill and Fleur parted and turned to face their families.

"May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Bill Weasley, to all in attendance," concluded Remus, in a tone much happier than was usual for him. Everyone stood and applauded as Bill and his bride walked back down the aisle. They stopped at the end, looked at each other, and turned around. Then they both started laughing. They were waiting to see when someone was going to stop them!

"Well, dinner’s more than ready, I’m sure," said Bill jovially, "and this is a celebration! Let’s all eat and enjoy this joyous evening!"

Dinner that night was another joyous event. Laughter was the most common language of the evening, as everyone there was laughing merrily. Even Alastar Moody was enjoying himself, and having a few laughs here and there. Fred and George controlled their immense urges to start a food fight, and instead grabbed two pies, and set them aside for some “innocent” fun later. Harry was having a blast, yet he knew that this was the last time for a long time he would have this much fun. After a very interesting conversation with Charlie about the dragons he was in charge of and their ideas of antics, he quietly slipped outside. As he stood outside the Burrow under the brilliant light of the illuminated bell, he listened to the sounds of happiness coming from behind him, faintly. He also heard the silence surrounding him. Isn’t this ironic, Harry said to himself. No matter where you go, no matter how happy a place can be, there’s always a place that is not so happy. Sensing he was not alone, he quickly turned around and saw Fleur, her radiant smile still glowing on her face.

"Hello, 'Arry. I wanted to talk wit' you, eef zat's alright."

"Yeah, that’s fine, Fleur. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you!"

"Zank you, 'Arry! Zis day would not 'ave 'appened if eet ‘adn’t ‘ave been for you."

"Sure it would have. I mean, you talked about the day you guys met, and all that, so I’m sure this would’ve happened even if you hadn’t met me."

"No, eet wouldn’t. I’ll tell you why. I was wit' a friend of mine from Beauxbatons, talking about ze Tournament. And I told 'er zat I’d met you, and zat you were a very courageous and honorable person. Well, Bill was sitting a few seats away, and 'e 'eard me talking about you, and zat I’d met you. 'E leaned over and asked me a few questions, and before I knew eet, 'is group of friends and mine were at ze same table. 'E walked me 'ome zat night, and eet just worked so well. So, I wanted to say zank you for everything. I owe you my life een more ways zan one, now."

"There’s no need to, err, say that, Fleur. Honestly, I’m really glad I was able to help, and I always will."

With this, a sadness overtook the pair, and both knew the uncertainty of Harry’s last statement. Harry noticed this, and immediately took action.

"Anyways, there’s a party going on, so why don’t we get back to it?'

Fleur’s smile returned, and they walked back to the party. When they entered the door, both almost fell over from laughing: Fred and George had saved the best prank for last, and had used an enchantment to send the pies right into the unsuspecting faces of Ron and Bill! While both were getting cleaned up, the Order began to clear out.

"We’d love to stay, Molly, but unfortunately, Death Eaters don’t sleep or take breaks," growled Mad-Eye. "We’ll see you at the next meeting in a couple days. Take care, and congratulations, you two."

"Yes, indeed," concurred Tonks. "It was the most fun I’ve had since I can remember. Good luck to you!"

As Moody, Tonks, Remus, and the remainder of the Order left, so did Fleur’s family. They had a long return trip home, and had to get started. They revealed one last present to the newlyweds: they had built them a house! It wasn’t the biggest thing, but it was somewhere they could start from. Both Bill and Fleur graciously thanked them as they cleared out.

Bill and Fleur left soon after the rest, taking an enchanted car for a moonlight flight. The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione watched them go before all went back to the house for a good night’s sleep. All, that is, except for Harry. He looked onward into the sky, knowing what his world had in store for him. Yet his heart was filled with hope of what he may find on the next step in his life’s journey. He now set his mind on a way of getting himself to Godric’s Hollow. He at least needed a picture. It was too bad Mad-Eye Moody had left already, as he seemed to have quite a few pictures from that time. Then it hit him that he, too, had a picture! He decided to grab it after Ron went to sleep, so he returned to the house and went upstairs to bed.

As expected, Ron was out in a matter of minutes, snoring loudly, and every so often mumbling about some bird chasing him through Diagon Alley. Harry chuckled to himself as he went to his trunk. He pulled out an old book, quietly whispered, Lumos!, and started flipping the pages. He knew what he was looking for, and he would find it. Sure enough, his eyes met up with two pairs of eyes that he was most familiar with, yet sadly had never known. Behind his parents was Godric’s Hollow, their home. Harry was not tired in the least bit, so he stared at that picture for hours, studying every detail of the house.

Looking outside the window, he saw the first glimpses of the sun. He told himself now was the time, and his heart jumped with nervous excitement as he carefully walked down the stairs. He walked out the front door, and heard someone behind him. Quickly, he jumped behind the bushes beside the front door and waited. Not a minute later, Mr. Weasley walked out the same door, yawning and stretching. He walked to the middle of the lawn and Apparated out of sight. Harry’s breathing resumed, and he followed the same path. He looked around one last time, taking in all the sights. He would sure miss this place, and he most likely wasn’t going to be back here for a while, at the very least. He turned his back to the house, and closed his eyes, taking in all the smells and sounds of the Burrow. Breathing deeply, Harry opened his eyes, and turned around to view the house one more time. What he saw was indeed the Burrow, but two people walking out of it towards him. As they approached, a knowing smile was present on both faces as Ron and Hermione stepped up to their friend.

"We knew you were going to try to go by yourself, so we went to bed earlier so we’d be able to catch you," Ron said while yawning. "Besides, Hermione said that only you would know how to get to Godric’s Hollow."

"Well, she’s right as always, Ron," Harry said smiling. As much as he may deny it, inside he was grateful for both his best friends and their determination to stand by him.

Ron and Hermione knew what to do, and both grabbed a part of Harry’s clothing. Harry pointed his wand skyward, closed his eyes, focused only on Godric’s Hollow, and secretly prayed he could do it. He stepped forward, twisted, and sure enough, he felt his feet temporarily leave the ground.

---

The trio hit the ground rather hard. Harry could not wait to open his eyes, yet was afraid to. Slowly, his eyelids lifted, revealing a sight that brought tears to his eyes for a number of reasons. There in front of him was Godric’s Hollow. That alone was enough to bring tears to his eyes. But it was not as it looked in the picture. It was very obvious that the house had not been visited in some time. In addition to the natural wear, there were several black smears on the outside, revealing the struggle that took place on these grounds so many years ago.

Hermione looked at Harry’s face, trying to decipher what was going on in his mind. As she looked at the house, she saw an old home beaten up. It was certainly fixable, but she couldn’t see why anyone would want to. It wasn’t in the best shape. She looked at Ron, and she could see he agreed. I guess I was expecting too much, she said to herself as she, Ron, and Harry walked cautiously up the steps to the front door. Harry timidly touched the doorknob, and turned.

The door creaked open, and Harry pulled out his wand. It was too dark to see, and yet something in his mind told him not to turn on any lights. Death Eaters may very well expect him to come here. Three Lumos! spells were said simultaneously as the friends walked further into Godric’s Hollow. Harry turned to his left, from the main corridor. He lit his wand a little brighter, and he saw a room that he had no memory of, yet strangely felt very comfortable in. It was the den area, the living space of the Potters. There was a television on the floor next to the wall closest the hallway. Two couches were on the opposite side of the room in an “L” shape. A table was on the wall facing the outside with windows, and in the dim light, Harry saw something that made his heart leap. He ran to the table as fast as his legs would carry him, and grabbed the first picture off the frame. He’d longed all his life for more glimpses of his parents, and in his hands and before his eyes were so many memories, captured and preserved with an enchanted camera. He was in a lot of them, and his parents’ smiles were in all of them. Hermione grabbed one with just Harry as a baby, and smiled. He didn’t have the scar, or the worries he has now, she said to herself, gently setting the picture down. As she turned around, she saw Ron looking at the pictures as well. It was hard to say what Harry was feeling, as neither of them could see him very well.

Harry pulled every picture he could from their frames and placed them in a bag he’d brought in case he found something he wanted to keep. Walking back to the main hallway, he turned left to continue further into the house. He saw even more pictures on the wall, many of people he didn’t recognize. To his right was a closet. As he opened the doors, he noticed it was cleared out. Completely. Sadness overtook him as he closed the doors and continued on. Another room on the left didn’t interest Harry as much as it did Ron: the kitchen. Ron was starving, as he’d not eaten breakfast. He was about to look for food when Hermione noticed the wheels turning in his head and kicked him in the shin to bring him back to reality. Harry walked down another hallway to the right. He saw stairs leading upwards and a room on his left. He walked into the room, and froze. There were a couple chairs and a desk in this room, which must’ve been James’ study quarters. What scared Harry was that both chairs were knocked over, and the desk was in disarray. This must’ve been where his father had met his end. Slowly he turned around, and looked at the stairs as though they were a dragon. He knew well what awaited him upstairs, and was dreading it.

Hermione saw Harry’s face, and knew what he must be thinking. She vaguely remembered him saying something about how everything took place on the second level, so she assumed he feared seeing the actual place where his legend started. She grabbed his hand lightly, and smiled as gently as she could to show her support. Ron came to his other side and placed an arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s knees grew weak as he stepped forward. He was so very thankful for his friends now, when words failed him and his own mind was both against and for him. Each step seemed to add ten pounds to his weight as he slowly walked up the staircase. The whole time he couldn’t help but think that the path he was taking was the path that Voldemort had taken that same infamous night. As he finally reached the top of the stairs, he saw that it cornered and wrapped around a banister. He walked forward down the new hallway. Ron and Hermione looked around the place as Harry wandered forward. They’d never known what Harry’s parents were like, and were curious. Hermione stopped by another table with pictures, as Ron looked over her shoulder. There was a Stealthoscope right above the pictures. So Harry’s parents knew he was coming, thought Ron. He lightly put his hand on Hermione’s shoulder, leaning over to see the pictures as well. Suddenly, Hermione jerked and looked around frantically.

"Where’s Harry," she asked with a sense of urgency in her voice.

Both of them immediately turned around and started looking in the other rooms. They saw a room that could only have been Harry’s as a child. Painted light blue, it had the trappings of an infant’s interests around it, and had a comfortable feel. They continued down the hallway past a bathroom. There was only one room left. Hermione and Ron exchanged looks as they entered the room.

Harry was on his knees at the opposite end, crying hard. Both Hermione and Ron rushed forward.

"Harry, are you alright," both asked repeatedly.

Harry did not answer right away. In fact, he didn’t answer at all. He lowered his hands, held one of them out, and revealed a sash. Hermione took the sash from Harry and examined it: flowers and hearts were all over the sash, and a saying that said, "For always, forever I will love you." Harry continued to weep as his friends comforted him. Hermione returned his mother’s sash to his hands, now wet with his tears.

Never had Harry felt so much emotion in such a short amount of time. He’d traced the very steps of his worst enemy, and seen so much of his past and his parent’s lives that it was almost too much. As he walked into this room, he knew what it was. He saw something on the opposite end of the room, and carefully walked over to it. Seeing what it was, he grabbed it and pulled it to his chest. He then remembered something he’d forgotten over all this time. It was a new memory that he would treasure always: His mother singing to him before bedtime, and her playing with him with her sash. The words of the song ended with what was written on the sash, and Harry could see her face. He could see her face. Not knowing what to do or how to react, he sank to the floor and surrendered himself to tears. Having his friends around him now, their arms around him, made him feel comforted. So much history in this house, and he’d only now seen it. As he started to cease crying, he looked up at his friends.

"Thank you for being here with me," he said with a thankful tone, and as much of a smile as he could muster. "I never knew what I would find here."

"I did," said a voice that had not been there before.

All three teens’ hands shot to their wands and were pointed at the door when the figure turned on the lights. Temporarily blinded, all three kept their wands ready.

"It’s alright. I assumed you would come here eventually, Harry. I come here myself, sometimes, when I get lonely."

Harry recognized the voice. It was a friendly voice, not one of anger or hatred. Struggling to adjust to the brightness of the lights, he saw the person he’d thought it was: Remus Lupin.

"I know it’s not the biggest or the best place," said Remus, "but Harry, when Lily and James lived here, there was no place more homely. I truly miss them, and all the good times we had within these walls."

Harry struggled to regain use of his voice, which had left him since he entered the house. He turned his gaze to meet Lupin’s, and he knew he didn’t have to say anything. Remus knew. He had to. He was the last of the group still here. Harry knew that if anyone knew what he was feeling, it had to be this man, who was as alone as he was.

"Let’s talk downstairs. You two come with me," Remus said, motioning to Hermione and Ron. "Harry, I’ll give you a few moments to yourself."

Harry, now alone, looked at the room in the light. It had a completely different atmosphere, and looked much more welcome. He saw that it was his parent’s room. Looking to his left beside the window, there was a dresser with a book on top. He opened it and noticed it was a woman’s writing: his mother’s writing. He wiped the tears away from his eyes and put the book in the bag with the photos and his mother’s sash. He would read it later, but not now.

Retracing his steps, he was amazed at just how friendly the place looked when the lights were on. He was able to see the lively hood of the pictures much better, and the stairs were not nearly as foreboding. He passed the office and the kitchen, passed the wall of pictures, and entered the den. He received quite a shock when he got there, for sitting in the room was not only Remus, Hermione, and Ron, but Mad-Eye, Tonks, and both of Ron’s parents.

"Have a seat, Harry, dear," said Mrs. Weasley.

"How did you all find me," Harry asked, bewildered.

"Ginny admitted to eavesdropping on you and Ron and Hermione, and she told us what you were planning," Tonks replied. "Remus figured it was about time you learned some more about your parents, and we’re all here to tell you the story."

Harry, finally overcoming the shock of seeing a room full of people in his parents’ house, sat down on the floor, opposite the Order of the Phoenix.

"I noticed you took the pictures out of their frames," Remus started. "I assumed you would, as you haven’t known your parents save for the few photographs we’ve shown you. I knew when you were ready you would return here, and see for yourself what your parents were like. As I told you during your fifth year, Harry, James was a thrill-seeker, but he would always clean up his act around Lily. During their seventh year, he was quite a lot more down to earth than you saw in Snape’s memory. That’s when Lily started to see something in him. They spent more and more time alone, and grew quite close by the end of the year. Sirius and I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d have to wear our dress-robes to their wedding, and sure enough, a couple years later, we did."

"It wasn’t like the one you saw, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley took over. "It was a big wedding. All of their friends came from all over to see this. Lily’s Muggle family even came to see her. She had the most beautiful dress. I’m sure there’re pictures somewhere around here with them on that wonderful day."

"After the wedding is when things started to get more drastically dark," growled Mad-Eye, following up where Mrs. Weasley stopped. "Voldemort had all of his followers and his full strength. We don’t know how he did it, but he seemed to grow stronger after each killing, and things just got so much worse. Your parents decided it was time to act, and, with Dumbledore, organized the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. That was the picture I showed you a while back. We were all so determined to do what was right that we almost forgot what we were up against."

"James had a fighting spirit when it came to defending those he cared about," Remus spoke up. "When he learned Voldemort was coming closer to our direction, he started preparing."

"Yeah, and working on the Unforgivables," Moody added.

"Indeed, yes," continued Remus. "He worked on the Unforgivables in case he had to defend you and Lily. He and Voldemort actually had a duel the night that it all happened. He wasn’t able to handle the strength of Voldemort, and he died saving your life. He lives in you, however, Harry."

At this, Harry looked up at Remus, ever so curious as to see where he was going to go with this.

"Ah, yes, Harry, you remind me more of your father than you may realize. You also have that fighting spirit when it comes to your friends. They are your family, and in your mind, you’ll let nothing and no one take them away from you. You excel at the same subjects James did, and you have the same enemies. You also have Lily’s calmness and degree of logic."

"James was more of a jump-the-gun kinda guy," Tonks added.

"The Order was James, Lily, and Dumbledore’s creation, Harry. They knew they had to do what was right, no matter what the cost."

"Why are you telling me this now," Harry interrupted. "I mean, it’s not like it was back then. Now is so much more different."

"While that is true, Harry, we still look in the same direction for hope and courage."

Lupin let this statement sink in as Harry comprehended what was just said. So his parents were the starters of the Order of the Phoenix?! His father was prepared to do anything to save his family? Yet there was so much happiness here! How did this all work out?

"In case you’re wondering, our meetings were held here every once in a while. Sirius would hold the other ones. We needed at least two places to vary our meetings so the Death Eaters wouldn’t know which place to stake out."

After a long pause, the Order members exchanged looks, and Harry was left wondering what was next. He knew the gaps to end the story, and he’d just learned a great deal more about his parents. He wondered to himself if he should tell the Order what they needed to know about how this story would end. He would have to pick up where his parents left off and finish it.

"I’d say it’s about time we stop with the storytelling and inform the boy what we’re trying to say," Mad-Eye Moody said with a sly grin on his face.

Harry looked up at the Order, not knowing what to expect.

"Come with us, Harry," Remus said. "There’s more to talk about, but in privacy."

"Like what," Harry asked, now more curious than ever.

"It’s about time you became one of us, Potter," Mad-Eye said with an actual smile. "You’re not only old enough, but you’ve got a name to live up to. Let’s get out of here. I’ll lead."

As the group left, Harry’s anticipation grew, and so did Ron’s.

"You’re going to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix!"

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I associated with anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, or any of the cast members of the movies.

---

Apparating from location to location, led by the vigilant Mad-Eye Moody, the group finally made it to number twelve, Grimmauld Place later that evening. Arthur decided to check on something at the Ministry and left after they had finished lunch. It was quite the group to see. Tonks decided to have a little bit of fun with some Muggle babies by changing her hair and making funny faces. As they entered the House of Black, Harry was once again overcome with emotion and sadness. He now knew about his parents, he’d known about Sirius, and he’d seen both places where the Order had met. He knew the story of the Order, and was certainly about to learn more.

Everyone walked into the dining area, and sat down. Already present were Minerva McGonagall, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Horace Slughorn. Ron and Hermione were right at Harry’s side as he faced the Order. He remembered when Kingsley used to be in this room, as had Dumbledore, Sirius, and Snape. The thought of his old Potions professor infuriated Harry, as memory after memory returned to him when he had the chance of stopping the events of last year, and he didn’t. He secretly promised himself that he would indeed meet the Potions master once more, and in that moment, he would seek revenge from the man who took away so much from him. After all, it was Snape who had been the cause of his scar, his parents’ deaths, Sirius’ death, and Dumbledore’s as well. He had a lot to talk about with Snape: quite a lot, for that matter!

“Are you ready, Harry?” asked Remus, bringing Harry back to the present.

“Yes, err, I suppose,” Harry stammered, not quite sure what to expect. “What exactly is going to happen?”

“Well, as we told you at Godric’s Hollow, it’s about time you became a member of the Order of the Phoenix. We’ve been discussing it for some time, and feel that you have met the requirements for being a member in many ways. First, a member of the Order can have no fear in the presence of darkness or danger. You have more than demonstrated this since you walked in to Hogwarts. After all, it was you who headed up a Defense Against the Dark Arts club at Hogwarts. It is you who has faced Voldemort on three separate occasions and lived. And it is the heart of your family that beats in your body, making you just as strong and wise as your parents. Henceforth, you will be a member of the Order of the Phoenix, if you swear to stay loyal, protect all members, and any information learned has to be told to the rest of us. Do you agree, Harry?”

“Yes, I agree,” Harry said with confidence. He was not going to be alone in this fight after all, and that was a comforting thought.

“First of all, Mr. Potter,” Minerva started, “I must ask you to divulge to the Order as to what you and Professor Dumbledore were doing last year, and why you left on...that evening.” It was still a difficult task in living without Dumbledore for every person in that house, and silence followed this question, both out of respect and curiosity of Harry’s answer.

Harry took a deep breath and started from the beginning, telling them about the Prophecy. He realized they did not know nearly as much as they needed to know, and this information was vital for them to comprehend. He told them as much as possible. It was a long story, and with as many gaps as the Order had in their information, it took Harry a very long time to finish. Every eye was on him, and many had fear in their hearts. A fear that grew the further Harry went with the story. He brought up the fact that Snape was responsible for his parents’ deaths, as it was he who heard the first part of the Prophecy. He continued to the investigations he and Dumbledore conducted over the past year, exploring Voldemort’s past. The cave, the orphanage, even the memories from Slughorn (who finally realized that Harry had seen the memory of the Horcruxes and silently cursed himself for allowing it...or did he, he pondered) were all told as Harry drew to the ultimate truth: it would boil down to just him and Voldemort, one on one, but unless he had destroyed the other Horcruxes, he could not defeat the Dark Lord. Even more silence followed this final statement as Harry took a seat at the table and looked at the faces of the Order members, and his friends.

Ron and Hermione knew most of what he’d said, but the gravity of his predicament finally hit them fully, and they both looked scared for Harry. As much fear as they had in their faces, Mrs. Weasley had triple the amount. She couldn’t bear to lose Harry. He was one of the family! She told herself to tell Arthur as soon as he arrived from work. The remainder of the Order was in shock. The information just given to them by Harry filled in the gaps of the story they just told him! And if this was true, then it was a good thing Harry was now a member of the Order: otherwise, their cause was almost worthless!

“So what you’re saying,” began Moody, “is that, after each killing on his first run, Voldemort created a Horcrux, and that’s how he became stronger?”

“Yes,” replied Harry, vividly remembering this same conversation with Dumbledore less than a year ago. “Voldemort knew that he wanted to become as invincible as possible. He also knew the number seven is the most powerful number in magic. He used the Horcruxes after killing people. The reason this made him stronger is because, after his soul was ripped in two over and over again, he became less human, and more consumed by his hatred. That’s why he was unstoppable. Only a few knew about it, and none of them knew the Prophecy.”

“Well,” Remus started, “it would appear that you’ll need some help on this endeavor, wouldn’t it? As of right now, the Order’s main priorities are to find those Horcruxes, whatever they may be.” Turning back to Harry, he asked, “How do you destroy these things, Harry?”

Harry was afraid of this question, as it was something Dumbledore never told him how to do. His old headmaster was never able to finish his story of how he “magnificently” destroyed Marvolo’s ring before last school year. For this reason, Harry did not know how to respond.

“I don’t really know,” Harry cautiously answered, seeing the discouragement on the faces of the Order members. “Dumbledore knew, but he never told me how.”

“Well, let’s not lose all hope,” Minerva spoke up, breaking another period of silence in the room. “We’ve still got some time left to sort this out. You’re forgetting we still have to figure out what these things are.”

“I have a hunch about three of the remaining four,” Harry said.

All eyes turned towards him. Some had hope, others doubt. Harry hoped for all their sakes that he was right about all three.

“While looking into his past, I remember him possessing a gold locket, originally held by �““

“Slytherin!” shrieked Minerva. She remembered Voldemort’s interest in Hogwarts history, and she remembered that there were only three possessions previously owned by the founders of the school still in existence. That must mean that the second one would be from Hufflepuff.

“That’s right,” Harry continued, both relieved and concerned with Minerva’s reaction. “The second is a cup from Hufflepuff. He stole both of these from a lady who was collecting them. She showed them to him, and he killed her for them. I think because of his obsession with the school and power, he might have used them as Horcruxes. Especially since they went missing after the lady was killed, and then he went into hiding.”

“That makes sense,” said Minerva, having waited for Harry to finish this time. “Those artifacts would certainly contain a lot of power in them, and that’s what Voldemort wants. But those are only two, Harry. Do you have any ideas as to what the remaining two are?” she asked with a worried tone in her voice.

“Dumbledore had a hunch about the snake that follows Voldemort, but I don’t have any clue about what the last one is. It could literally be anything.”

“Well, it looks like you still have some searching to do, then, Mr. Potter. Now that we have this information, I think we should talk about your next school year. I heard that you would not be returning this year. Is this true?”

“I changed my mind over the past few days. I will be coming back. I don’t want to risk not being there at Hogwarts if something bad happens.”

“Very admirable of you, Potter,” Mad-Eye Moody chimed in.

“Indeed, yes,” continued Minerva. “As you have responsibilities to both your school work and...well, what we just talked about, you will be given certain privileges above your fellow classmates. You will let us know when you are leaving to continue your search, and you will not be going alone.”

“But Professor, I can’t risk the lives of others!” Harry protested. “This is my responsibility, and I don’t want anyone else to be hurt if something should �“”

“Should something go wrong,” Minerva said, with a tone that demanded no argument, “then there will be more than one of you to fight. I don’t want to discuss it further at the moment, Mr. Potter,” she said, noticing Harry was about to speak again.

“Now then,” she continued, “as this pertains to all three of you, I will inform you of some changes at the school. First off, as you may have guessed, I am Dumbledore’s replacement as Headmistress of the school. This makes Hagrid the head of Gryffindor house. Professor Slughorn will be head of Slytherin.”

This decision made Harry very happy, as Hagrid was a close friend, and Slughorn would be another professor he could trust. This might make Slytherin somewhat more bearable, thought Harry to himself. Unfortunately, this was not so.

“Speaking of Slytherin,” Minerva proceeded, “Mr. Malfoy will be coming back as well �“”

“NO,” all three of the Gryffindors yelled at the same time, but it was Ron who was able to get the next comment off first.

“You’re going to let the guy who was the reason for Dumbledore’s death back in school?! Bloody hell, you must be mental!”

“Ronald Weasley, you watch your mouth!” Mrs. Weasley yelled.

“If you’ll give me a chance to explain, Mr. Weasley,” Minerva said hotly, “you just may realize my reasoning behind bringing Mr. Malfoy back to school.”

Ron knew he wasn’t going to win this argument, and judging from the look on Hermione’s face, he’d better give up or not live to tell about it. With one last look of disapproval on his face, he sat back down and listened to Minerva speak.

“I’m bringing him back for a number of reasons. First, Mr. Malfoy did not commit the heinous act last year: that was Severus. Yes, he did assist in it, which is the reason for number two and three. Number two is that, if Voldemort trusts the Malfoys, which we have every reason to believe this is to be true, he’ll want Draco back in school as a spy. I want to have him back so that we can reverse that. I’ve already had Professor Slughorn make a lot of Veritaserum, among other potions, to...convince...Mr. Malfoy to not be honest about the goings-on of Hogwarts, and also to acquire information from him about the Dark Lord’s activities. Perhaps he will tell us where the remaining Horcruxes are. Did you think of that, Mr. Weasley?”

Ron looked shocked at her last statement. Harry, as irritated as he was that Malfoy would be at Hogwarts one more time, had to respect the brilliance of the idea. He’d never thought of it from that angle.

“Lastly, he will be under extreme surveillance at all times, and he will not be able to go anywhere without at least one professor knowing his whereabouts. So, there is no need to worry about another event happening.”

“It’s still a great risk, Minerva,” Remus stated. “No one here knows what Voldemort has taught the boy. He may be able to resist such measures.”

“He may, but he is not as powerful as Mr. Potter, and he will surely not be able to get past us under so careful a watch.”

“And if he does,” Harry added, “I’ll be there waiting for him.”

“You will do no such thing,” Minerva turned back to face Harry. “You are not to touch him unless he attacks you or a fellow classmate. Do I have your word?”

As difficult as it was for Harry to surrender this hope of being able to rid Hogwarts of Malfoy, he reluctantly agreed. There was nothing he could do. At least at the moment.

“As for you, Mr. Potter, as I said earlier, you will be permitted to leave school grounds to continue your search. Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone else about where you go and you will return as soon as possible. As a member of the Order, if a situation requires more assistance, notify either myself or another member, and we will arrange for it. Don’t try to play the hero, Harry, as you have before. I understand that you are our last hope and that you will indeed have “power the Dark Lord knows not,” but that doesn’t mean you are able to handle yourself in an ambush or a situation where the odds are not in your favor. In which case, it is essential you have at least one person in this room with you when you leave.

“And what’s more, being given these new liberties does not mean your school work does not matter. I expect no less than the performance you have sustained all your years at Hogwarts, and will keep an eye on your marks. The same punishments apply to you, as do all other rules. I will not ask if this is alright with you, as it is not open for renegotiation. Any questions?”

Harry tried his hardest to comprehend all that was just said to him. Professor McGonagall certainly hadn’t changed, that was for sure! That being said, there was one question that had just come to his attention, and worried him.

“Professor, will I be able to use magic outside of Hogwarts?”

Although he would be of age by the time the upcoming school term began, he wanted to be sure he’d be able to at least use some spells if he needed to.

“Yes you will, Potter,” said a cold, hard voice from the back. The Minister of Magic had been very quiet this whole time, and chose now to speak up. There was still some animosity between Harry and the Minister from their encounter at Christmas almost a year ago.

“Something that will be said at the first day of school is what I’m going to tell all three of you here and now,” started Scrimgeour, “but this mainly applies to you, Potter. The laws in regards to Underage Usage of Magic have been temporarily dropped, as the Ministry of Magic feels it is critical that every witch and wizard is able to defend themselves if they are in trouble. This applies to all magic: Potter, your Patronus, all jinxes, and anything else used in self defense. Also, the Apparitions test is cancelled for this year, so if either of you are capable of Apparating, then you won’t have to worry about testing for it. Therefore, this should flesh out your inventory, Potter. Best of luck to you.”

Although the Minister seemed genuine, there was a stiffness with which he stated these last statements that Harry and the rest of the room’s occupants sensed. In fact, it was so stiff that Harry almost felt it was Snape telling him.

After revealing this information, Rufus turned to the rest of the Order.

“As that is all I needed to say, I shall escort myself out. I have other business to attend to, such as keeping the wizarding world in order. If there is any update on Potter’s progress, inform me immediately. Once all of these devices are destroyed, I will come back.”

With that, he grabbed his robe, turned on his heel, and briskly made his way to the front door.

“Can you believe that prat?” Ron spoke up as the door shut behind the Minister.

“Ron, watch your language this time,” Mrs. Weasley said, a forced calm in her voice.

“Mum, how can you defend him?! He practically treated Harry as though he were someone who was mental. I mean, yes, the news was good, but he didn’t have the right to treat Harry the way he did.”

“No, he did not,” growled Moody from the far end of the table. “However, I haven’t known him to treat someone in such a way without a particular reason...”

After this comment was made, both of Moody’s eyes were on Harry. The rest of the table followed his gaze. Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He thought back to the conversation almost a year ago, trying desperately to remember what was said between the two of them.

“Well, err, I remember him asking me to visit the Ministry more often to give the impression that I was on their side, but I told him I didn’t want to, and I didn’t agree with him holding Stan Shunpike in Azkaban without a reason. I, err, kinda challenged him on that...”

“That would explain a lot,” Moody said, with a rather humorous tone in his voice. “Was that all?”

“The conversation ended with him asking me where Dumbledore was going all last year, which he now knows. But I refused to tell him last year. He thought that Dumbledore was holding me against my will, but I told him I was Dumbledore’s man, through and through.”

This comment silenced the room. As with Albus Dumbledore before them, the room became choked up and teary-eyed with this statement of Harry’s. Everyone knew it was true, even in this moment. With Dumbledore gone, this comment hit each heart a little closer than usual.

“Then I wouldn’t worry too much about the Minister, Harry,” Remus said softly.

“Well,” Mrs. Weasley began, “I’d say it’s about time for bed. It’s been a long day for everyone, and with all the news we’ve just been informed of…well, it’s time for bed. Come on, you three.”

But before Ron, Harry, and Hermione got to the stairs, the front door opened in an instant, with Mr. Weasley walking briskly into the main room. He had a look of worry on his face as he walked to the dining room. The three young wizards quickly followed him, hearing him yelling, “Percy’s been fired and is going to be sent to Azkaban!”

A stunned hush overcame the room as Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered, all bearing the same stunned look Mr. Weasley had. Mr. Weasley had every eye in the room as he sat down next to his wife, every eye begging him to elaborate.

“When I went to the Ministry this afternoon, I went to see if my help was needed on anything. I saw a large group of people standing in the hallway. The Daily Prophet was there as well. I saw a man being taken away by security. He looked up at the last second before they took him in the elevator, and it was Percy. He looked beaten up and miserable, Molly! And his robes were smoking and blackened in areas. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I ran to catch up, but was stopped. I asked security what had happened. He naturally asked what business of mine was it, so I explained that was my son. He apologized and took me to a separate room, where we were joined by a second officer. It was there they told me that Percy was spying on the Minister for Cornelius Fudge! Our old Minister! Apparently he couldn’t accept the fact that Scrimgeour is a better Minister than Fudge ever was, so he agreed to steal documents and eavesdrop on the goings-on of the Ministry so Fudge had all the information he could ever need. I can’t imagine what he would need it for, though.”

Molly looked horrified by the news, for obvious reasons. This was her son! She realized she had stopped breathing, and she forced herself to restart. Hermione pulled a chair behind her and gently guided Mrs. Weasley to it and sat her down. Once seated, she spoke tentatively.

“Why was he beaten up, Arthur?” she asked.

“They wouldn’t say,” he replied, exasperated. “I assume he put up a fight, though. I can’t think of any other reason security would harm him. I believe he was in the Department of Mysteries, if I’m not mistaken. But I’m not sure why Fudge would need information from that department.”

“Does the disaster a year ago bring any memories to mind?” Moody asked with a vicious tone in his voice.

The group turned their attention to Mad-Eye as he explained his reasoning.

“Harry and Voldemort’s prophecy wasn’t the only prophecy relevant to Voldemort. Fudge had contacts beyond what he knew, and his handprint was on a lot of those prophecies. If my worst fear is true, which I know it is, Voldemort has Fudge in his possession. Arthur, have they caught Fudge yet?”

“No. I overheard them saying they couldn’t find him, and they had some Seers looking into it.”

“If they don’t have him yet, then they won’t find him unless Voldemort wants to get rid of him,” Moody stated. “That’s as much confirmation as you need.”

“Then we will work on that,” Lupin said. “Harry has to search with one of us, and he will indeed do this.” With his comment, he cast a knowing glance to several members of the Order, all unnoticed by Harry and his friends.

“The rest of us will look for Fudge. We need to see what he knows, and see what Voldemort’s after. I will lead this. Is there another member who wishes to accompany me?”

“I will,” Arthur said immediately, putting his face in his hands. “I need to find a way to redeem my son, Remus.”

“And we will work on that in time,” Lupin assured him. “But we need to set our priorities on Fudge and those Horcruxes. These are the things that are giving Voldemort his strength, and that’s what we need to take away from him.”

“Wait a moment, Remus,” Arthur said slowly. “What are these Horcruxes you were speaking of? And why does Harry have to do anything about it?”

“I’ll explain everything later, dear,” said Molly.

After all the evening’s excitement, everyone was quite tired. Alastar and Remus decided to retire after the meeting, as did Arthur and Molly. Minerva said she had to leave, as she had some other meetings. Before she did, she turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione for one last bit of information.

“Your letters will be sent tomorrow, but there will be a slight difference: your books will be included with the letters. I don’t want the students going to purchase books or doing anything outside Hogwarts that may cause them harm.”

“They’re just books, Professor,” Ron said. “What harm could come from going to buy them from Diagon Alley?”

“I just want to be more careful, Mr. Weasley. I’d rather not have to lose any more than that which has already been lost. Diagon Alley is not the place it used to be. There is a lot of theft and violence, as the stores are all shutting down and wizards are rushing for whatever they can grab. It’s no longer safe there. I feel that by sending the books with the letters, it will further prevent any potential, if improbable, harm. Good luck this year to all of you, and I will see you on the first day of the term.”

“Professor, I do have one more question,” said Hermione. “From what you and the Minister have told us, there seems to be a lot changing at Hogwarts. Are there any more changes that will be taking place?”

“You are very keen, Ms. Granger, and I knew you would assume as much. As usual, your assumption is correct, as there are more changes that I have not told you yet. Those changes will be revealed to you at the feast on the first day. Good night, and be careful, you three.”

She looked at each of them fondly, and her eyes hovered on Harry for just a moment longer than the other two. She now knew, perhaps better than he did, what was in store for him, and she was scared for him. After knowing him for so long, making the promises to him that she’d made, and seeing him and all the trouble he undertook for someone his age, she couldn’t help but feel close to him. With a small smile, she walked out the front door, gently shutting it behind her. Things would certainly be different. After she left, the three teenagers walked up the stairs, and one by one drifted into a fitful sleep, neither sure of what unexpected surprises awaited for them in the coming days...

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I associated with anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, or any of the cast members of the movies.

---

The following day began early for Harry, as he awoke from yet another dream involving Voldemort. Yet this one wasn’t quite a dream. Harry couldn’t place it, but he felt the dream, more than saw it. He had no memory of anything that happened, which was unusual. In the past, Harry was able to usually remember a few details of these “visions” right after they occurred, but this time he was not. It was just a feeling, but it was a feeling that scared Harry. Voldemort was very pleased, but yet there was something more...something that wasn’t there before in any of Harry’s previous dreams: anticipation. It seemed as though the Dark Lord was waiting for something good to happen, and that was something that put Harry in a nervous mood. Thinking as hard as he could, he couldn’t think of anything that would make Voldemort both happy and excited. Then again, it was very early in the morning, and he wasn’t fully awake. He thought on it for several minutes; then, not being able to come up with a logical solution, he lay back into his bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

---

The day progressed rather uneventfully. Mr. Weasley left early to start working on his new mission of finding redemption for Percy, and Mrs. Weasley went to check on Ginny. Harry and Hermione later discovered that Fred and George were watching her, so they understood Mrs. Weasley’s over-eagerness to return to the Burrow to check on what was still standing and salvageable from the activity that no doubt took place in her absence. Moody left later that afternoon to run some errands of his own. The only ones left were Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Remus. Remus was keeping himself busy with books and researching magical law, attempting to find a loophole to free Percy and at the same time condemn Fudge. Thus, it was a day without much occasion.

The scene was unbearable for Harry. Here he was, in the house of his late Godfather, with Sirius’ best friend, and his own best friends, and absolutely nothing was going on. Hermione was, of course, buried in a book, and Ron was...doing what Ron does when he’s bored, and that’s sleep. Not wanting to have this boredom continue, he walked up the stairs to the third floor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He walked into a room with another old friend: Buckbeak.

The hippogriff was set free earlier, but returned of his own accord for seemingly no reason. Remus had placed him in the room he was in before, and that was the room Harry chose to enter. Buckbeak bowed in return to Harry’s bow, and squawked excitedly, grateful for the company. Being in this room, doing what Sirius did for so long, somehow comforted Harry. He felt like his Godfather, being kept in this place, wanting to leave but not having a reason to leave. He grabbed some ferrets on the wall, tied to strings, and started throwing them in the air for Buckbeak to catch. Watching the hippogriff joyfully grab the dead animals made Harry smile.

After some time, Harry once again was at a loss for what to do. He pulled the hippogriff into a hug and told him he’d see him later. Walking down the stairs, he looked at the clock: it was quarter after six in the afternoon. He walked to the kitchen and started collecting dinner. Hermione, Remus, and Ron entered after him and repeated his actions. As the four sat down to eat, there was an awkward silence in the room, as if all that there was to say was said the previous night. All ate quickly to avoid the strange atmosphere of the meal. Shortly after finishing, Harry turned to Hermione and Ron.

“Would you be interested in joining me for a walk?” he asked.

Both nodded in affirmation and the trio got up to leave.

“Harry, be sure to stay in areas where others can see you,” Remus warned. “At this time, although you are able to handle yourselves, should something happen to you, it would be a bad thing indeed for not just you but the rest of us. Alright?”

“Sure, Professor,” Harry quickly responded, grabbing his coat and heading out the door, pursued by his two friends.

---

The three young wizards walked through a park a few miles away from Grimmauld Place, talking about old times and their adventures. They climbed onto a swing set and started playing around, enjoying this break from reality. Without warning, Ron fell out of his swing, backing away rather quickly. Hermione looked at him with a concerned yet bemused look on her face. Harry followed his gaze to a sight that stopped his heart.

There in front of him was a black dog, wagging its tale. Not just any black dog, though. No, this dog looked rather thin and shaggy, and had a unique smile on its face. Harry wasn’t sure whether to believe his eyes or not. Slowly, he approached the animal, longing to believe it was his beloved Godfather. The dog walked up to Harry’s outstretched hand and started licking him. Overcome with emotion, Harry dropped to his knees, pulling the dog into an enormous hug. It started barking happily as Hermione and Ron approached as well. Harry was crying tears of happiness.

“I knew you would come back, Sirius! I knew you wouldn’t leave me!” he exclaimed.

Ron came over to the dog and started petting it as well. Hermione, however, stood in shock. She looked closely at the dog, hard-pressed to believe that, after all this time, Sirius would suddenly appear exactly where they were at that moment. It was this careful observation that she noticed the dog’s face change from that of happy and innocent to still, and then to a rather unpleasant demeanor.

“Harry, let go of the dog,” she said carefully, just as the dog started growling.

Reluctantly, Harry let go of the dog, then turned to Hermione to try to convince her that Sirius was back. While he turned, it scratched his chest, drawing blood. The dog backed away from Harry, fur on end and teeth bared.

Now it was Harry’s turn to look shocked. Why would Sirius do this to him? Didn’t he know who he was? As he backed away further, he noticed Ron and Hermione both had their wands out, pointed at the dog. Frantically, he jumped in front of the animal.

“Don’t hurt him!” he shouted in a loud voice. He couldn’t let his friends hurt his only family member.

He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his arm as he was dragged to the ground by the dog. Screaming in pain, he locked eyes with the dog. The look he got back shot him in the heart: it was a look of hatred. Before he could do anything to respond, the dog was jinxed by Ron, and sent flying into the bushes across the playground. Both Ron and Hermione dropped to their knees next to Harry to make sure he was alright. It was then all three heard laughter coming from those same bushes. Helping Harry to his feet, the friends exchanged knowing looks: they knew those laughs.

Draco and Lucius Malfoy walked out of their hiding spots and around the stunned animal now lying on the ground. This prompted Harry to pull out his wand as well. All in that park were now armed and ready for a wrong move.

“So emotional, Potter,” Draco taunted. “Oh, Sirius, you’re back! Let’s all celebrate! Pathetic!”

“Indeed,” agreed Lucius. “Honestly, Potter, I didn’t think you’d be that delusional. Although, we assumed you would be. Hence why we took so long to find a dog that looked just like your dead Godfather. I thought we did a rather marvelous job, wouldn’t you agree?”

Harry’s grip on his wand tightened, sending waves of pain through his body. He could care less at the moment. All he wanted was Draco.

“I figured we could have a little fun before school began, Potter,” Draco said. “After all, I am coming back. And with Dumbledore out of the way, it should be a rather pleasant year for me. I mean, without him constantly snooping around, I should be able to do whatever I want.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, Malfoy,” Harry said fiercely.

“Well, why not put your words to actions, then. We’re alone. There’s not a Muggle in this park. So why not have a go right now? I’ve been waiting for this a long time, Potter. Let’s play.”

Draco drew his wand and pointed it directly at Harry, taking a defensive stance as he waited for Harry to agree, which he knew he would.

“You’re on, Malfoy!” Harry said, and not waiting for a response, he threw his arm out and shouted Immobulus!

Draco froze on the spot, looking horrified. Harry walked up to him, keeping his wand at the ready, in case Lucius tried to interfere. At that moment, Harry let out all his frustrations, not bothering to censure himself or leave anything out.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like leading the life I’ve led, you vial bastard?! Do you think I care what happens to me anymore? I’ve got nothing left to lose! I’m fed up with having you treat people the way you do. You act as if you’re so far above everyone, when you don’t even amount to a bloody thing. You’ve taken just about everything I have left. You tried to take Ginny away from me, then Hermione, and then you succeeded with Dumbledore and Sirius. I’m not letting you get away with what you’ve done. I don’t give a damn what you think about it, or if your dad is with you on this. You will not hurt another person ever again once I’m through with you! And you can tell Voldemort this, Lucius: he can try as hard as he wants to hide, but I will find him, and I’m not stopping until I do.”

“Harry, release him,” a voice said. But it wasn’t Lucius’ voice: it was Hermione’s. Turning around, he saw her walk up to him and gently place a hand on his arm. She looked at Draco and said Enervate! Harry looked at her with confusion as Draco was reanimated to his old self. Shaking, he walked away from the duo. Hermione smiled at him, then whirled around and punched Harry across the face as hard as she could!

Ron almost fell over from shock as he saw his best friend almost knock Harry out cold! Hermione then pointed her wand at the boy on the ground as he slowly got up.

“What was that for, Hermione?” he asked, having absolutely no clue why she would do something like that, and to him of all people! Malfoy would be understandable, but him?

Ron walked up to Hermione to try to perhaps calm her down. He received the same punch Harry did, only in his stomach. With a flick of her wand, Hermione sent Ron skyward with Wingardium Leviosa! He went flying up about fifteen feet when she suddenly let him drop! Harry was up on his feet, running as hard as he could. He caught Ron just before he hit the ground. He quickly got up on his feet again, only to see Hermione advancing towards him, with her wand out and a look of sheer malice on her face. Harry drew his wand reluctantly on his friend. Hermione threw a jinx at him, which he blocked. She threw a couple more, which were also blocked by Harry. His mind was racing. He knew that, in any duel, he had to fight back. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything to Hermione. As the two circled each other, Harry walked past Lucius and Draco. He heard a whisper, almost as if it were a breeze, followed by Hermione shouting Crucio!

Harry fell to the ground in excruciating pain, looking up to see Lucius and Draco laughing hard. He couldn’t understand what was going on. Why would his best friend do this out of nowhere?! Suddenly he was released from the Cruciatus Curse. He got to his feet as quickly as he could, his body still wincing from the pain that had just hit him. He looked at Hermione, who still had her wand pointed at him. Only he looked into her eyes, and he saw she was crying. Harry remembered at that moment what Beallix had said during his fifth year: to use an Unforgivable Curse, you had to mean it. He looked at Lucius, who was concentrating on Hermione almost unblinkingly. He whispered something else, and Hermione once again used the Cruciatus Curse. This time, Harry rolled out of the way. Then it finally hit him: Lucius had Hermione under his control with the Imperius Curse! That’s why she was attacking him and Ron!

Harry jumped to his feet and shouted Expecto Patronum! at the two Malfoys. Draco was hit by the silvery stag, but Lucius managed to dissolve it before it reached him. Then Hermione shouted Expelliarmus! This sent Harry flying backwards. He held onto his wand with a death grip, making sure this wouldn’t be the end of the fight. He was slammed against a tree nearly fifty feet from where he was standing, hitting his head hard. He told himself he couldn’t lose consciousness; not now.

Once more, he got to his feet, pain coursing through his body as if it were his blood. He looked over at Ron, who was sitting in awe of the situation. He ran towards him, dodging jinxes and spells from Hermione. As he tackled Ron and rolled the both of them behind a nearby tree, he told Ron his idea.

Both of them left from either side of the tree, running at full speed. Lucius wasn’t sure which to hit first, and his hesitation cost him. Ron shouted first Expelliarmus! to disarm his friend, then Wingardium Leviosa!, sending Hermione into the air. Harry kept on running straight at Lucius, whose face now had a look of fear on it. Harry stopped a short five feet from his opponent and screamed Sectumsempra!

Lucius couldn’t explain what happened next. Blood seemed to be everywhere, and it was his own! Draco grabbed his father as he passed out.

“This isn’t over, Potter,” he shouted with a malicious tone of voice. “Not even close!”

Draco dragged his father to a safe distance, still under the aim of Harry’s wand. Harry wasn’t going to let this end with just the father down and out. Pulling his wand back, he gave Draco the most hate-filled look he could, and shouted Crucio! at his rival, who simultaneously Apparated out of harm’s way. The bush they were standing in front of burst into flames as the spell missed the targets and hit it instead.

Harry looked at the burning bush for a moment, letting go of as much anger as he could. Finally a degree calmer than he was, he remembered Hermione was ten feet above him and Ron. Putting his wand away, he walked over to Ron and told him to release the spell. Ron threw his wand on the ground as Hermione fell into his and Harry’s arms. She didn’t speak, but had a dazed look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong with her, Harry?” Ron asked nervously.

“Lucius put her under the Imperius Curse,” Harry responded. “She’ll be like this until we can get her some help. Help me carry her back to Grimmauld Place.”

The two friends proceeded to do just this. The task was made more difficult, however, as Hermione was still under the Imperius Curse and wasn’t very mobile.

“What the bloody hell was that curse you threw at Draco’s father?” Ron asked. “I’ve never seen that before!”

“Do you remember that curse I told you about in the Prince’s potions book last year? The one that began with an “S” and said “For Enemies”?”

Ron shook his head to confirm this.

“Well, apparently, Snape invented it to punish my father and Sirius for humiliating him. I used it on Draco last year, so that’s how I knew what it did.”

“Could you maybe teach me that one?” Ron asked with a determined look on his face. “It could come in handy if something like this happens again.”

Harry agreed, and told Ron the curse, how to use it, and what it did as a result as they continued towards their destination. Finally, they reached Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Ron let go of Hermione’s legs to open the door, then the boys gently carried her inside and lay her on the couch in the living area. Remus went to greet them, and gasped when he noticed the trio in their present conditions. Harry had blood still running down his arm from the dog attack, and dried blood was on his head from the blows dealt by the tree and other obstacles that he ran into. Ron was paler than ever, and had a bloody nose. Hermione was on the couch with a weathered look on her blank face: a look Remus knew all too well.

“Harry, what on earth happened? I thought I told you to stay in areas that were safe!”

“We did, Professor! We were at that park a few miles from here in plain sight. The Malfoys attacked us there, and put Hermione under the Imperius Curse.”

“I could’ve sworn Lucius was still in Azkaban!” Ron exclaimed.

“He was, until last week’s attack by the Death Eaters,” Remus explained. “Apparently Voldemort wanted all his old followers this time around, which means he’s gathering more strength. This attack is not a good sign at all.”

“Wait a moment! That’s it!” Harry said, startling everybody.

“What’s what?” Ron asked, confused.

“Last night, I had another dream. Well, it wasn’t really a dream, but it was a feeling from Voldemort’s mind. I...err, he, was anticipating something. It was as if he were expecting something good to happen. This had to have been it!”

“In that case, Harry,” Remus started, “you’re lucky to have lived through it. If Voldemort wanted to send those two in particular after you, it was probably not just to play with your mind. It was to weaken you, or perhaps to see how strong you are. Well, you certainly sent him a message! I think that the Malfoys were so intent on taunting the two of you that they waited too long to actually do any lasting harm.”

“Can you help Hermione?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I can,” Remus said in a calm voice. “Sit her up.”

With some effort, the three of them got Hermione into a seated position. Lupin pointed his wand at her and said Imperio Decerpo! Hermione sat straight up with a wide-eyed look on her face, gasping. Then, just as abruptly, she passed out on the couch.

“Well, she’s not under Lucius’ control any longer,” Remus said. “Let’s get her to a bed so she can rest for a while.”

While Hermione rested, Harry and Ron told Remus everything that had happened during that strange afternoon. As they elucidated the prior events, Mad-Eye and the remaining Weasleys walked in, hearing the rest of the story. Molly was shaking with fear after they finished, holding Ron so hard he could hardly continue breathing.

“You could have been killed!” she exclaimed, now grabbing Harry. Ginny, who had come back with her, as had her brothers, tried their hardest not to laugh at the looks on Harry’s and Ron’s faces.

“Come on, Mum,” said Fred sarcastically. “So they’re a little beaten up.”

“Makes ‘em stronger, after all,” concurred George, patting Ron on the back, which made Ron wince in pain.

“At least we know Harry can handle a situation like that,” Fred continued.

“Indeed, that’s right,” said Remus. “Harry has yet again proven he’s capable of handling surprising situations.”

Harry did not want to be in the spotlight on a night like this. He nodded when he needed to, and answered when they asked him a question, but his mind was not on this discussion. He was worried. If they would go so far as to attack him while he was with others around him, what would stop them from doing it again, say, at Hogwarts? What if he wasn’t able to do anything about it? Another question plagued his mind: why did Hermione stop using the Cruciatus Curse when she did? These questions repeated themselves in Harry’s conscience for the remainder of the evening. He was also worried about Hermione, so when he was able, he slipped out of the room where the Order was talking with the Weasleys and walked towards the room where his friend was now resting.

Harry slowly opened the door, so as not to wake her. He closed the door in the same fashion and delicately made his way towards the bed, sitting ever so lightly on the edge of it. He watched Hermione sleeping peacefully, and was grateful that she was able to do so. Had things turned out differently...he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. He leaned over and put his face in his hands. He knew this year was going to be hard, but if this was a taste of things to come, he wasn’t sure how much of his heart would be left by that last battle.

“Harry, are you alright?” a gentle voice asked him.

Harry sat up and looked at Hermione, who had a look of concern on her face.

“Sorry if I woke you, Hermione.”

“I was waking up anyways,” she assured him. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong? You look rather scared.”

“I was scared. I thought I was going to lose you, today. I wasn’t sure what to do, or what to think. I mean, they’re all telling me that I’m a hero for being able to think on my feet, but I wasn’t sure what to do today. Really, I wasn’t. When you...err, Lucius started attacking me, I was afraid of hurting you.”

“Hurting me? Harry, I was right behind you when you were talking with Lucius. I don’t remember anything after that, though. What exactly happened that scared you?” When he hesitated to answer, she asked, “Does it have something to do with me?”

“He had you under the Imperius Curse, Hermione,” explained Harry, who was now sitting in a chair beside her bed. “He used you to attack me, and I didn’t know why until it was almost too late. I didn’t want to hurt you, nor did I want him to hurt you. Just having him control you tore me apart. You’re one of the best friends I have, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t been able to...if you would...”

Tears overcame Harry as his emotions exposed themselves from their hiding places. Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed gently, trying to comfort him. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders, literally, and it hurt her knowing she couldn’t do anything to help him more. She couldn’t even defend herself! She felt tears starting to form in her eyes. Tears she didn’t want him to see. She pulled Harry to her and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She felt his sporadic breathing against her chest as she started to cry with him. They’d been friends for a long time, and it was hard in a world such as they lived in, to find hope in dark places. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at him. As she locked eyes with him, she felt the urge to tell him what had been on her heart for a long time.

“Harry, I love you. We’ve been friends for the longest time, and I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you �“”

“Me, either. That’s why �“”

“Just...please let me say this,” she requested, and Harry stopped talking. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through these past few years, and I wish there was something I could do to help you. But I want you to know that I will always be there for you whenever you need someone. I guess you could say you’re my hero.”

Both of them blushed at this comment as they looked into the other’s eyes.

“I would do anything for you, and...well...I just wanted to let you know that. I’m with you now and forever. You’ll make it through this, Harry, I know you will.”

Harry was getting choked up again. He never expected this from Hermione, who was usually quiet about her feelings. Smiling, he pulled her in for another hug. The two rested in the other’s arms for a couple minutes before the door opened and Ron walked in.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, not wanting to interrupt anything important.

“Yeah, Ron,” Harry said. “We’re fine. I was just checking on Hermione to see if she was alright.”

Ron closed the door and sat on the opposite side of the bed across from Harry and Hermione.

“Today was a close one, that was. I’m just glad you were there, Harry. I’ve got to say, the three of us make a good team.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Harry said sarcastically, and the other two laughed. As the three exchanged looks, it was an unspoken understanding that, no matter the happenings of the future, their friendship would stand through it all and remain true. They’d made it this far, and they would make it through to the end. Hermione started tearing up again, and pulled both Harry and Ron into a group hug. Neither of them left the room until late that evening, as they all told jokes and stories to each other, savoring the moment as long as they could. It was their time, their world, and their friendship. No matter what dark forces lay ahead of them, that truth could not be taken from them, and would be defended no matter what the cost.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I associated with anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, or any of the cast members of the movies.

---

The remainder of the summer was spent mostly indoors, for obvious reasons. Hermione rested for a time, regaining her strength, while Harry spent countless games being annihilated by Ron in wizard’s chess. The summer had been the best of Harry’s life, and he felt more apart of a family than he ever had before. The next day, the group of Hogwarts students would make the long journey back to the castle. This would be the last time for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were all excited. Having the whole Weasley family coming in frequently over the summer to Grimmauld Place was comforting to Harry, and the most honorable House of Black was starting to look like it was inhabited by folks other than dark wizards.



After three solid hours of chess, Harry had lost patience and almost given up...until Fred and George decided to watch. Both started ganging up on their younger brother, frustrating him. Ron made a wrong move, and Harry saw his chance. Quickly, and quite prominently it must be noted, he moved his queen, removing Ron’s castle and ending the game.



“Checkmate!” Harry exclaimed, surprising everyone in the room by the outburst.



“No bloody way!” Ron said incredulously, reviewing the move that had just been played. Once the truth of the matter reached Ron’s brain, he shook his head and looked at his friend. Harry looked back with a very pleased expression on his face.



“Oh, fine then. One game, Harry, it was one game!”



“But that’s the first time I’ve ever beaten you!” Harry pointed out. He was so happy he could’ve written a book about it. Surely this had to be legendary enough to immortalize through writing!



“He beat you?!” Ginny said, coming over to rub it in. Fred and George would have as well, had they been able to breath between laughing so hysterically. The mood was light, and everyone was in smiles. That was not to last, however.



Later that evening, Arthur, Molly, and Tonks came in with worried looks on their faces. They rushed to the kitchen to talk to Remus. Fred and George tried using their Extendable Ears, but a spell was put on the door so that all they could hear was static. Moments later, Mad-Eye limped in, soaking wet with sweat, and blood trickling down his face. He was followed by Slughorn, who was also covered in sweat, and breathing hard. Bill and Charlie Weasley followed just behind them. Lastly, and most surprisingly, Kingsley Shacklebolt briskly walked in and shut the door just as quickly behind him. Same as the other two, he was breathing hard. But his face looked worse than Moody’s did! It was as if his entire face were colored red rather than skin-color. He led the group into the kitchen as well. Mad-Eye was the last one in. He turned around quickly and saw the group of teenagers walking with curiosity towards the room.



“Potter!” he shouted. “You’re a member of this Order, are you not?! Come in here!”



Harry wasn’t about to miss what happened to these men for anything. He walked forward, tailed by Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and their brothers. A look from Alastar gave them their answer.



“Only Potter,” he explained with a tone that was non-negotiable. They backed up and walked to the den area, having nothing to do but wait.



While the teenagers waited on the outside, the atmosphere within the kitchen was completely different. Arthur and Remus grabbed towels and washcloths for the returning Order members, which were anything but their original colors after a few minutes. Everyone in that room was shocked to see Kingsley.



“We thought you were dead!” exclaimed Tonks, looking in shock at the older Order member.



“I was, according to most,” he replied. “But it takes more than three Death Eaters to take me out completely.”



“I could’ve told you that, Shacklebolt,” Moody said with a chuckle. “We’ve worked for too long together. I know that as fact. Just as I knew that this idea, which was no better than a child’s, would not have worked for a minute, Slughorn!”



At this, Horace started cowering, not wanting any more trouble than what he had caused. It took roughly fifteen minutes to apply counter-curses, provide antidotes, and heal wounds before any of the five men were able to answer questions. One by one, they relaxed, except for Mad-Eye, who still sat rigidly, glaring at Horace.



“What exactly happened?” inquired Arthur.



“The fact that Kingsley came back with us should tell you how bad it was, Arthur!” was Moody’s response. He then proceeded to yell some more at Horace, who couldn’t make himself any smaller without the use of magic.



“That’s enough, Alastar!” Kingsley bellowed. “It’s been a hard night as it is. Let’s not start killing more people, alright?!”



“Killing more people?! What on earth happened out there?!” Molly asked, concern in her voice as she wandered towards her sons sitting at the table.



“We were ambushed, Mum,” Charlie said, looking over at Bill, who nodded in agreement.



“Hold on one moment,” Kingsley said, focusing on Harry. “What are you doing in here, Potter?”



“He recently became a member of the Order, Kingsley,” Remus stated. “So he’s allowed to hear everything that we are.”



“Very well, but do understand that what I’m about to tell you is not for the faint of heart,” Kingsley responded.



The room went deathly silent as the five men all exchanged agonized looks to one another. It was Kingsley who spoke first.



“To bring to date those who do not know, I was protecting the Muggle Prime Minister, as per our Ministry’s orders. Some time ago, I had a relatively lethal encounter with three Death Eaters trying to take control of the Muggle Ministry. I fought them off, but was hurt rather badly in the process. I had to fake my own death and take Polyjuice Potion to disguise myself as a Muggle to stay on duty with their Ministry. We assumed once Voldemort was back, he would start attacking Muggles as well as wizards, hence why it was of utmost importance I stay there. Unfortunately, we were right.”



He paused for a moment, sighing heavily before continuing.



“The Prime Minister of the Muggles has been murdered this night.”



The gasps coming from each mouth of the room showed the significance of such a loss.



“For a Muggle, though, he put up one hell of a fight! He was fist-fighting Dark Wizards for a few moments before they got him with the Killing Curse. I was there...along with a few other Aurors from the Ministry of Magic. The others were being killed. There had to have been at least six of us. I was fighting two Death Eaters, and after the second one went down, I looked at the Prime Minister. I was rather amused with his fighting and dodging. I saw the green light before he even knew what was happening. His body fell to the ground and they carried him away. I pursued, and ran into Mad-Eye. He heard I was in trouble, and he joined me in our pursuit. The Death Eaters threw several nasty curses at us, missing us most of the time. As you can see, they nailed me in the face with the skin-eating curse. One of them threw something at Alastar, and he got hit rather hard as well.”



“It was a Muggle knife,” Moody chimed in. “Rather hard to deflect, as I’m sure Potter here knows.” Harry just stood there, nodding promptly to answer the question. Having never dodged a knife before in his life, he just went by what he saw on the few movies he’d been able to watch behind walls at Privet Drive.



“He Apparated to get some help, and at the same time, two more Death Eaters Apparated in front of me. In this line of work, and at times like that, it’s ‘kill or be killed,’ I’m afraid. So I took them out. I continued to follow the leaders, and the rest of these guys showed up. They took out the remaining Death Eaters that were following me, and we continued to go after the Minister. They Apparated away just before we could get them. Now I always keep a set of brooms with me at all times, so we Apparated to where I keep them. Once all of us had one, we took off, scouring the city for any trace of the Minister.”



Kingsley took another break, his eyes starting to water. He tore himself apart because of the sight his eyes beheld.



“We found him...”



“Yeah, we found him,” Moody continued, “hanging from a rope, which was tied around his neck, from one of the arms of Big Ben, that tower clock they have.”



“That wasn’t all, though,” Bill said, speaking up for the first time. “After we found him, we were going to find a way to get him down. Death Eaters came out of nowhere, attacking us with every curse they had. We flew out of there as fast as possible, exchanging curses and dodging the Unforgivables. We finally made it here in, well, the state we’re in now.”



The room now had a terrified disposition. This was not good news at all.



“That’s terrible,” Molly shrieked, gathering Bill and Charlie in her arms. Harry stood in shock, as did Remus and Arthur. It was hardly imaginable that such an attack could happen. For the latter two, it hadn’t sunk in yet just how much danger they were in. However, Kingsley cleared his throat, uttering a statement that scared everybody.



“There’s more.”



The room once again was silent as a graveyard. Every ear leaned in to hear how there could be any more.



“I went flying past them a few times after we fled,” said Kingsley. “I wanted to see what they were planning. As it turns out, they put the entire clock tower in flames! Then they started randomly harassing Muggles as they left. It was the most horrific scene I’ve ever seen.”



There couldn’t possibly be anything more that could be said that would shock them further. Then Harry asked the only question he had left.



“So, what did Professor Slughorn do that was so terrible?”

Mad-Eye turned and looked intensely at Harry before answering.



“We suspected there may be a few Death Eaters hanging around the Muggle Ministry, so we had to stay alert. It was your dear Professor’s decision to try some magic to see if that brought them out. He used a spell that shouts off red sparks in the sky that take different forms, which apparently was their signal to start chaos. His reasoning for it was that, if there were any of Voldemort’s followers in the area, they would be scared away. If you can figure out the logic in this, then explain it to me.”



“Why is Voldemort doing this?” Harry asked tentatively.



“Because he’s after you,” said Horace cautiously. “By planting little seeds of fear in the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, he hopes to draw you out. Once he finishes you, the world is his.”



“You mean if he finishes him,” corrected Remus. “You’re forgetting that Harry defended himself and his friends against two Death Eaters recently. One of which has given you two a run for your money.”



This last comment was directed at Moody and Shacklebolt. The Order continued discussing many things that night. Each one made Harry more scared than ever. He was now realizing the full extent of the Dark Lord’s power. Now, more than ever, he wondered just how much of a chance he would have standing up to a wizard that had never been killed or defeated.



Harry walked out an hour later, after all the arguing and debating was over. He was once again reminded, this time by every member of the Order of the Phoenix, of the weight that was on his shoulders and the cost of his failure. His friends surrounded him as he walked up the stairs in a daze. Never before had he felt so overwhelmed. After all, not just the lives of those in the Wizard world depended on him. The Muggles were in danger too.



Once upstairs, Harry explained the whole meeting to his friends. By the end, he lay on his bed, physically and emotionally drained. Fred and George left in deep conversation, while Ginny walked out shortly after. Ron and Hermione didn’t know what to say, but they stayed with Harry until he was asleep before leaving him.

---

At half after three in the morning, Harry stirred, and couldn’t fall back asleep. Frustrated, he quietly left his room and walked to the den area. He turned on a dim light and sat in the first chair in front of him. He was restless and scared, yet also excited. After all, in a few hours, he’d be back at Hogwarts. Then all he had to worry about was school...and the horcruxes...and Ginny. Ginny?



Sure enough, Ginny was standing at the doorway, looking worried. She had on her night robes, and as she walked slowly up to where he was sitting, Harry could see she was barefoot. She had her hair down, which was the way he liked it. Ginny knelt down next to the chair Harry was sitting in, and sat looking into his eyes for a moment before speaking.



“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked. “You look so scared, and you’re really worrying me. I know you’re not one to open up about things, but you know you can trust me.”



“It’s not a matter of trust, Ginny,” he replied softly. Gosh, she looks beautiful, he though to himself before bringing his attention back to the present. “I’ve just got a lot to worry about, that’s all.”



“You have too much to worry about, Harry. I hate that you feel you have to do this alone. So many people care about you. So many people would do anything for you. Why won’t you at least let them help you through this?”



“Because this is something I have to do alone,” said Harry, more harshly than he intended. He brought his voice back down and continued.



“I don’t want to be responsible for the death of any more people, especially someone I care about. I couldn’t bear to live with myself if that happened to anyone.”



“So you think we’re not strong enough to help you, is that it?” Ginny was starting to get upset, and it showed in her voice.



“That’s not it at all. The Prophecy says that only I can defeat Voldemort.”



“But that doesn’t mean you can take on all that he is, Harry! You can’t take on all the Dark Wizards around by yourself! You’ll die!”



“Do you really think I don’t know that?! I know I don’t stand a chance. Tonight proved it! His Death Eaters took out six, SIX Aurors! And he hasn’t shown his face since the night at the Department of Mysteries! I know I don’t stand a chance, and that’s why I don’t want other people dying to save me. If I’m going to go out, then I want to go out alone.”



“I’m not going to let you do that, Harry Potter! I care too much about you to let you do that!”



“How are you going to stop me?” Harry asked, meeting her defiant glare with one just as passionate. “How can you stop what’s going to happen?”



Tears started to fall down Ginny Weasley’s face, despite her fighting them. She looked deep into Harry’s green eyes, looking into his tormented soul. She saw the fear, and the fierce compassion he had for protecting those he cared about. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Pain started to ebb away at her own heart. She cared a lot more than she had told him, and the fact that he wouldn’t let her stand beside him hurt her. She finally lost it and bent over crying. Harry slid off the chair and gathered her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, crying hard. Being this close to each other was both a comfort and a plague to either one. They both wanted to be together, but Harry knew he couldn’t. It killed him to have her in his arms and not be able to comfort her more, to hold her tighter, to kiss her. Ginny could not stop thinking about the last time they were like this. After barely speaking for an entire summer, she felt very relieved to be in Harry’s arms again. Talking to him was something she’d wanted to do, but felt she didn’t have the right.



Her heart continued to betray her thoughts as she took refuge in his arms. Tears continued to stream down her face as her heart poured out its agony. She desperately wanted him to touch her face; to kiss her; to look at her like he used to and tell her that all was going to be fine, although she knew things would never be the same. She pulled away, locking eyes with him. Harry lost himself in her gaze, unconsciously leaning closer to her. His feelings did not want to listen to his mind, which was telling him to stop. The closer he got to her, the more he wanted to pull her as tightly to her as possible and never let her go. He saw the same look in her tear-filled eyes. Their faces drew nearer as if they were two stars drawn in the same constellation. Ginny closed her eyes, her lips just inches away from his. Harry couldn’t take any more, and made the decision he knew he would regret.



“I...can’t do this, Ginny,” he said, slowly pulling away.



Fresh new tears started to fall down Ginny’s face as she pulled her broken heart away from his arms.



“Why won’t you just give us a chance? Why did you end it in the first place?” She could barely speak through her crying.



“It’s just...I...I can’t lose you. And I know Voldemort. He’ll go after you to get to me. I know he will! And I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”



“So you don’t think you’re hurting me now?”



Harry didn’t have an answer to that. He knew she wanted to be together at least as much as he did, but he was so scared of losing the one woman he’d fallen for that his mind won the battle with his heart.



“This just...can’t happen right now, Ginny. I’m sorry.”



He didn’t know what else to say, and he couldn’t bear the sight of Ginny, the beautiful fifteen year old witch in front of him, with the most gorgeous, long red hair he’d ever seen, crying anymore. He turned from her and walked away towards another part of the house. He could hear her running up the stairs, balling her eyes out. He walked into the kitchen and sat down. He stared at the table for a moment before his emotions also overpowered him. There in that kitchen, all alone, the Boy Who Lived put his bleeding heart on the table and cried himself to sleep.

---

A few hours later, Harry heard many noises coming from all over. He awoke with a start and looked around. Everyone was getting ready for the train. As he looked out of the kitchen door, he saw that, not only was everyone packed, but they were walking out the door! At that moment, Mrs. Weasley walked over to him and gave a surprised shriek.



“Harry! Why aren’t you ready to go?!” she asked, shocked that he was in the kitchen at a time like this! They had to go!



“Are you alright, dear? You look a little pale,” she added, seeing how he looked worse for wear. Not five seconds after she asked this question did Ginny pass outside the door, looking straight at Harry for a moment before continuing on her way out. Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley with as much of a smile as he could muster and told her he was alright.



“Well, come on then, dear. Let’s get moving! Ron packed your things, so your trunk is all ready for you. Now get a change of clothes and let’s get out of here, or you’ll miss the train!”



Ten minutes later, everyone was in the enchanted car with Arthur behind the wheel. Driving at break-neck speed, he floored it to the train station. The car emptied as fast as possible, with all its occupants running as fast as their legs could carry them. Bursting through the station after passing through security, they ran through to platform nine and three quarters. A wave of relief hit them all as they realized the train was still there.



Mrs. Weasley gave all her children quick hugs, then Hermione, then Harry. She looked at him and asked once more if he was alright.



“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for a great summer!”



“Oh, you have nothing to thank me for, Harry, dear. Just remember, if you ever need anything, ask me. You are a member of this family now, just as you are a member of the Order. Anything you need, send us an owl. If we can’t contact you that way, we’ll find other means. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine this year. Now enjoy as much of it as you can by first making it onto the train!”



With one final hug, Harry was off running. The conductor looked annoyed that he’d been stalled by this student. Then he looked again. That student was Harry Potter! That settled it in his mind: he could take as long as he needed. Once Harry was on board, the train took off, traveling at a brisk speed to account for lost time. Harry went to look for his friends, who he soon found were waiting for him.



“Where were you?” inquired Hermione.



“I was...err, held up,” Harry replied.



“Well, we’ve got to start with our Prefect duties,” Ron said, “so we’ll catch up with you later, mate.”



With that, the two of them walked away to the Prefect cart. It was once again Harry and Ginny. The tension resumed, until Ginny saw some of her friends waving at her. She turned around and looked at Harry with a sad smile before walking towards her friends.



What, is this a new thing? Harry thought to himself. Everybody’s leaving me. Well, it’s probably for the best, he thought. After all, hours before, he was telling Ginny the same thing. He gathered his belongings and began searching for a place to sit. He hadn’t walked that far when his shoulder was rammed by someone else who was walking past. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Draco Malfoy stood right behind him, a glare pointed in his direction.



“You’ll pay dearly for what you did this summer, Potter,” he spat out.



“Oh, I’m sure I will, Malfoy. By the way, how’s your father?” Harry asked with a devilish smile on his face.



Draco drew his wand, but by the time it was halfway out, Harry’s wand was at his throat. This was enough to convince him to stop.



“Know this. I’ll be watching your every move. If I see anything...anything out of the ordinary, I’ll come after you personally. It’s been six years of this. We’ll see who comes out on top.”



“You’ll see that I will, Potter,” Draco said, his voice quavering. “I’ll deal with you later. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”



“I’m sure you do,” Harry said sarcastically, and withdrew his wand. The two backed away, still facing the other, before turning simultaneously to go in opposite directions.



Harry walked further to the next cart, where he found Neville sitting by himself. He decided to walk in and sit with him.



“Hi, Harry!” Neville exclaimed. “How are you? How was your summer?”



“Hi, Neville,” Harry said nonchalantly. “I’m fine. My summer, however, was one strange event after another!”



“Really? Tell me about it, then!”



So Harry regaled Neville with the tale of his summer. He mentioned the encounter in the park, the boring stages, and conveniently left out the night before with Ginny. Then Neville started telling Harry how his summer had gone, with his Grandma keeping him close by for her assistance. She bought him some new dress robes and a few other items as well. Then his face sank to the floor in a melancholy sort of way.



“What is it, Neville?”



“Trevor ran away,” he said sadly. “I looked everywhere for him, but I couldn’t find him. So my Grandma said to use the school owls and she’ll work on getting me another frog.”



“I’m sorry to hear about Trevor. If you’d like, I’ll let you use Hedwig as often as you need to.”



“Really?” he asked, his face brightening.



“Of course. I’m sure she won’t mind.”



They talked for a few moments before they were joined by the Creavy brothers. As soon as the duo entered the room, both excitedly began telling Harry Potter how their summer went, step for step, day by day. After about an hour of incessant storytelling, they stopped for a moment before bringing up another topic.



“What do you think they’ll do, now that Dumbledore’s gone?”



This was the one topic Harry did not wish to discuss. He shook his head solemnly and looked out the window, hoping they would drop the issue, which thankfully they did. A few minutes went by, then Harry smiled unexpectedly.



“What is it, Harry?” asked Neville.



“We’re there!” he exclaimed.



They dressed in their Hogwarts robes quickly and gathered their things. Once outside the door, they made their way off the train. For Harry and Neville both, this was bittersweet.

Ron and Hermione walked up to them and smiled.



“It’s mental, isn’t it?” Ron asked. “I mean, it’s the last time we’ll leave this train to school for the rest of our lives!”



“Well,” began Hermione, “let’s make this year one we can’t ever forget.”



“I don’t think we’ll have a choice with that one,” Harry said. When his friends became quiet, he smiled mischievously.



“After all, it’s our last year. Let’s have some fun!”



His friends’ smiles returned, yet his was erased not a minute later. Ron and Hermione looked at him with a worried look on their faces.



“What’s wrong, Harry,” asked Hermione.



Harry looked around them. Everything seemed normal and in place. All except one thing, which bothered Harry immensely.



“Why are there so few of us?”

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I associated with anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, or any of the cast members of the movies.

---

Once all were within the protection of the walls, more students noticed the absence of their peers, just as Harry did. As the students walked into the Great Hall, the facts really hit them hard: there had to be less than half of the students the previous year at this time. Every student sat close to the teacher’s table, filling up as much space as possible. The table with the most students was Slytherin, which had at least three-fourths of its students present. Gryffindor was the second largest group, with roughly half of its students. Ravenclaw was third, and Hufflepuff was last, both with about as much as Gryffindor combined. Overall, there were 157 students sitting at the tables, compared to the 400 or so from last year.

At least the first years are still coming, thought Harry. While they wouldn’t be great in number, they would still fill in some of the gaps. He and his friends looked for some of the others. Dean and Seamus were there. Ron noticed that Luna was not at their table. He turned back with a worried look on his face, hoping that she was alright. Harry, hearing about Luna, turned to look at Ravenclaw, looking for one person in particular. Then he remembered that Cho finished schooling before the summer. He breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to the table. Hermione noticed Zacharias was also gone, as was Romilda Vane and several others.

Many students carried on conversations, but in hushed voices. The room was quite silent, truth be told. Even the professors were quiet. Absent from the table for obvious reasons were Snape and Dumbledore. The rest of the staff, however, remained intact and present. Moody was there as well, for reasons Harry couldn’t figure out. Did the Order of the Phoenix want more security at Hogwarts, or was there something they weren’t telling him? After all, no teacher was able to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts more than one year, as the position was cursed. Harry was confused by this. His eyes traveled back to Hagrid, who smiled slightly at him before breaking eye contact. If Hagrid’s here, thought Harry, then where are the first years? So many questions needed answering.

Minerva stood up and excused herself from the teacher’s table to stand at the podium Dumbledore would always stand by. Her mood was solemn and she looked much older than she did the past few years. The worries of her age showed in the lines in her face as she looked over the vastly smaller group of students before her. She gathered her thoughts before speaking.

“Here we are again, students,” she began. “I’m sure many of you have questions that you would like the answers to, and I will heed these inquiries after our meal is finished. For the time being, enjoy the feast, and please feel free to talk amongst yourselves. Let’s have this place be a little more festive.”

With that, food magically appeared on the plates of the students sitting at the tables. The mood lifted to one of earlier times as the students started eating. Most discussed their summers to those who they’d been out of contact with for that duration of time. Harry watched as Ginny talked animatedly to her friends, the smile having returned to her face. He was happy for her. He wanted her to be happy, even though he wouldn’t let her get close to him. He turned to Hermione and Ron, who were eating silently. They all exchanged glances and continued eating. All that was to be said by them was being spoken by those around them. The feast concluded a few moments later. As there were fewer students present, it only made sense the feast would end sooner. Minerva once again made her way to the podium, the same weathered look on her face. She held up her hands for silence, as Dumbledore did before her. As every student seated knew what this meant, the room quieted quickly.

“Now, as most of you have gathered, there are quite a few less present than before. Allow me to explain. As a whole, the professors of Hogwarts and the parents of those students who were to be first years here, we decided it was best for them to wait until this tension has subsided a bit before we allow first years at Hogwarts once more. This keeps the students safe at home, where their parents know their whereabouts at all times. While it may seem meaningless to some of you, to a parent, it means a lot. With no first years, however, there is no song from the Sorting Hat.”

This comment was met with some groans, as several students looked forward to the hat’s new song, Harry included. Minerva waited a moment for the groans to cease before she continued.

“Not only first years are gone this year, but so are several other students in other years, from second to seventh. They are absent for similar reasons as the first years. Some parents believe it is simply too dangerous to allow their children out of sight. As some of you may know, this castle is protected by some of the most powerful spells known in the wizarding world, so you are safe here.

“Something else that was new this year was the situation with your books. Every student was sent their books this year, and not required to pay. Once we knew how few were returning this year, the professors bought the books we were to use ourselves and sent them to you. That is a gift from us as a nod of gratitude for your attendance here this year.

“There is also a new teacher present: Mr. Alastar Moody. Some of you may remember when he was here a few years ago. The man who taught the classes was an impostor, so the real Mr. Moody has agreed to teach this year. He is here as a precaution and to help us teach a new curriculum of Defense Against the Dark Arts. His classes begin next week, as he has a few things in need of attention prior to the start of his term.”

Minerva choked up a little before continuing with what she was to say next.

“I would also like to take this time to pay respect to Professor Albus Dumbledore, our late Headmaster. It will be a very challenging position to fill in for, but I will do my best. Now if you would all remain silent for a moment to pay respect for Professor Dumbledore, I would greatly appreciate it.”

No one, not even the Slytherins, dared to speak during the moment that followed. Dumbledore was a wizard respected by all, even Voldemort, who feared and hated him. The room was very still as the memories of previous encounters with the former Headmaster were recalled by each student. Harry remembered the entire year he had with Dumbledore and everything he told him. He also remembered their conversations at the end of each year, especially his fifth. Harry vowed in this moment to guard and uphold the goals and aspirations of Dumbledore with every fiber of his being. As long as he was breathing and his heart was beating, he would fight for what Dumbledore stood for, and for his friends that still remained at his side. After this moment of silence, Minerva cleared her throat and concluded the opening speech.

“For those that do not know, the new Head of Slytherin is Professor Slughorn, and for Gryffindor, it’s Professor Hagrid, so you will follow them afterwards. This year will be more different than in past years. Classes will still be required, as will your dedication and hard work towards them. You all know the rules, so please follow them. Also, as the Sorting Hat always states, work on unity. If the school is united in this war against the dark powers that are rising, we can overcome it. We just need to believe in ourselves, and hope that we are strong enough to overcome the most perilous odds facing us.”

The last comment she said, she locked eyes with Harry, and the entire room knew why. For the past couple years, it was said he was the “Chosen One,” and quite a few students believed this statement. After the opening speech by Professor McGonagall, the Slytherins guffawed at the closing statement and pushed their way out of the room. Theirs was the largest group of the four; therefore, they felt they could command the rest more. Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors held their tongues as the Slytherins passed, followed by the Ravenclaws. Once outside, the conversations started to escalate.

“Professor McGonagall wasn’t joking when she said there were a lot of surprises in store when we got back,” Hermione said as the trio pulled off to one side of the corridor. “I mean, this is the first time in the history of Hogwarts there have been no first years.”

“Yeah, not to mention that Slytherin is the size of us, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff combined,” said Ron glumly.

“While that’s true,” Harry said, “maybe this year will be a little better after all.”

Both Ron and Hermione stopped walking and stared at Harry, unsure whether or not he was in a daze or speaking without knowing it. A comment such as that was not usual for their friend.

“Think of it this way. If we are to ever truly unite the school, this is by far the best way. Look around us! There’s so few of us that it wouldn’t take much to take out one group of us. But if at least the three groups join together, that’ll make us that much stronger.”

“Wow, Harry,” exclaimed Hermione. “That was brilliant! I never thought of it that way.”

Ron was still trying to figure out what he missed as they continued walking to their dormitories. Just then, Harry heard his name being called and turned to see who wanted him. Professor McGonagall walked towards him and his friends with a stern look upon her face.

“I need to speak with you straightaway, Mr. Potter. It’s a matter of the Order, so you must come. Professor Lupin, Professor Moody, and the rest are there, as well as the staff. So if you’ll follow me...”

Not leaving any time for questioning, Professor McGonagall turned and started walking away. Harry looked helplessly at his friends before following the Headmistress. The two walked through the many corridors before coming to a very familiar gargoyle statue standing tall and proud against a wall.

“Pesky Pixies,” said Professor McGonagall, and the gargoyle sprang to life, leaping out of the way to reveal the spiral stairwell leading to Dumbledore’s old office. Once there, it was a crowded scene. Not only were Remus and Mad-Eye there, but so was Tonks, Kingsley, Slughorn, Bill and Charlie, Hagrid, and all the other professors of Hogwarts. This meeting must be important, thought Harry.

Minerva walked up to the desk, and the loud chattering of the adults slowly ceased. She looked out and motioned that Harry take a seat, which he did. Again she looked over the desk to see all those present, taking a deep breath before starting.

“I’ve gathered you all here for a number of reasons. The Order of the Phoenix is something you all have heard of, and many of you are a part of. I will not force you to do anything you feel is unfair or not necessary, but our numbers have been dwindling for quite some time, and we could really use some more help. Harry Potter is here, as you can see, because he is the only student who is in this organization, and for good reason, too.”

Minerva continued by briefly discussing what was talked about in one of the last Order meetings. She talked about the Horcruxes, the Prophecy, and the danger that was sure to come. When she finished, all eyes looked upon Harry, who shifted in his seat and looked, nervously, at the floor.

“With that being said, I would like for all of you to become members of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore was, as you know, the head of the Order until...well...he used to be the leader. I will try my best to take his place, but I need as much help as I can get. Now, to turn the attention back to Potter. He has permission by me to leave school grounds, on the condition that he tells either myself or another member of the Order. If any of you has a clue as to the whereabouts of any of the mentioned items as Horcruxes, you will tell the Order and you will tell Potter. He will need to be accompanied on these exploits, so we will also need volunteers to go with him.”

“I’ll go with him when I can,” said Mad-Eye, turning to Harry with a look of fondness.

“I, too, will go with him when I’m able to,” said Remus. Slowly but surely, a few other members volunteered. Harry, while not wanting to put someone else’s life in danger, knew he wouldn’t stand a chance by himself, and was grateful.

“Alright, that’s about it for the meeting, then. Please note that all further meetings will be held in this office. You will all receive a message telling you the time with OP next to it, designating the time and nature of the meeting. With that, the meeting is dismissed.”

When the many adults got up to leave, Harry sat there in stunned silence for a moment. It was becoming a regular thing for him. Now he was fully aware of the danger ahead of him, as he had been the previous night. He did not want to be the Boy Who Lived any longer. He didn’t even want to be known at all as anything but normal, which he was obviously not. He also thought about the Horcruxes again: a thought that had not crossed his mind for some time. If Dumbledore, powerful as he was, lost his hand to one of these contraptions, what would it take to destroy the rest? He didn’t know, but he knew he did not have the knowledge of how to destroy them. This was a frightening thought.

“Harry?”

Hearing his name called brought him out of this confused state. He looked up and saw Remus, Mad-Eye, and Minerva were all that were left, and they all sat in front of him.

“What are you thinking now, boy?” asked Mad-Eye.

Harry did not answer. He felt he didn’t have the strength. The adults could see that the boy was troubled, so they did what they could to comfort him.

“You know, Harry,” began Remus, “you’re going to be surrounded by the best witches and wizards around when you are here, as well as when you leave for your missions. I know you don’t want to risk any lives other than your own, but you need protection, and that’s what we’re here for.”

Harry looked up again and saw the comforting smile on his former professor’s face. He returned it slightly before asking his first set of question.

“What will happen if I can’t do this? I don’t know how to destroy a Horcrux! It was hard enough getting the one with Dumbledore that evening last year! How do I even find them? That last one was buried so deep in the caverns that I would’ve never known how to get at it.”

“Harry, calm down,” said Minerva gently. She knew these questions were coming, and she had a few things to tell Harry that the Order had been working on over the summer since their meeting about the Horcruxes: things that Harry was not told in order to spare his already tormented mind any more punishment.

“You will be able to do this,” she began. “If that Prophecy means anything, it says that you are capable of killing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That means that you have the power and ability to accomplish this task. These Horcruxes are a part of his soul, which means that they are a part of him. You will be able to destroy these, Harry. Though we don’t know the exact way of doing so yet, we will find it. Now, we’ve located two of them for you over the summer.”

Harry looked at her in shock. They found two already?

“The first is the locket of Slytherin, which you had a duplicate of last year.”

“Yeah,” replied Harry. “It had a note saying that the real one was stolen by someone named R.A.B.”

“Do you know who that is, Harry?”

Harry shook his head. He’d spent time thinking about who it could be, but never could come up with anyone whose name had those initials.

“Regulus Alphard Black was the man’s name.”

“Sirius’ brother?”

“Yes,” continued Remus, picking up where Minerva left. “While he was the pride of the family and Sirius the black sheep, Regulus always wanted to be on top: the best. Hence when he found the Horcrux, he took it as a way of destroying Voldemort. It was his way of beating the best. He knew he would be killed for it, and so he was, more than sixteen years ago. I think Sirius talked him into turning against Voldemort, and that’s why he grabbed the Horcrux. He knew no one else could do it.”

“But then why was everything reset if it was just a fake? And did he destroy it?” The questions just kept coming to Harry, and he was finally getting some answers.

“He did not destroy it,” Mad-Eye said, “and I’ll tell you how I know that. I was talking to Arthur the other day, and he told me there was something suspicious about Lucius I should look into. So I grabbed my invisibility cloak and walked into Malfoy’s department. I spied on Lucius the rest of the day at the Ministry, and nothing happened. I followed him home to see if perhaps something strange was going on in the Malfoy Mansion. He walked through several different passageways before losing me, but I waited for him to come back. He told his weasel of a son that ‘it was safe,’ and I assume it could only be one thing: the Medallion of Slytherin.”

“So the Malfoys have it?”

“I’d bet my other eye on it. You may want to ask someone else you know for verification before you tear off into that Mansion, however. The Malfoys are powerful and overly cautious when it comes to things of value to them, not to mention that the devise is hidden rather well.”

“What do you mean, someone else I know?” Harry asked.

“Think about it, Potter, and you’ll figure it out.”

Harry thought hard, but could not come up with anyone who had been inside that mansion before, other than Draco. There was no way in the world he would betray his father.

“Now Harry, I have a different sort of question for you,” Remus said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that spell in the Department of Mysteries: the spell that killed Sirius. Do you remember anything about it?”

“Only that it was red, and that it hit him right in the chest,” said Harry, not wanting to be reminded of the moment his Godfather was murdered.

“Do you remember any incantation that was said?”

Harry shook his head. He only saw it, though, for a split second. There was so much going on around him at the time that he didn’t remember any spell being said. Mad-Eye and Minerva looked strangely at Remus, who shied away afterwards. There was another question that Harry wanted answered.

“You said you knew the location of two Horcruxes...what’s the second?”

“The second is a bit more complicated than we expected,” said Minerva nervously. “Dumbledore was right about Nagini, the snake. She is another Horcrux. But while Professor Lupin was researching, he came across a fact that we can only fear is true. She is almost completely magical, and she will have so many spells surrounding her that she cannot be killed. There is no spell that can penetrate these. I don’t know what to tell you, Harry, but this is truly an impossible mission...”

“Didn’t you just tell me that I could do it?” said Harry exasperatedly.

“The rest will be easier, Harry, but we can’t find a way to kill the snake. She’ll have to be the last one you go after. Maybe if all of us can corner her, we can do some damage to the spells protecting her, but I’m not sure what else we can do.”

If Harry was starting to cheer up with the news of the location of the first Horcrux, he was instantly brought down by the knowledge that the last one could not be killed. He didn’t know what he was going to do anymore. He felt at that moment as if his spirit had left his body and flown off in the distance. His shoulders moved forward and slumped as he collapsed out of his chair. The adults were scared by this, so they carried him to his bed and sent Madame Pomphrey to his side to check on him. He was alright, just in shock. Minerva walked out of the Gryffindor commons room shaking her head.

“I can’t believe all this has to rest on his shoulders. He didn’t ask for this, and now the weight of the world is on his back! I wish there was something we could do for him, or at least one of his friends could do for him.”

“We all do,” said Remus, “but unfortunately this is something he has to do alone, like he’s been saying for some time now.”

The three adults left Gryffindor tower in a deeply sorrowful state, hoping against hope this would all be over soon, if only for the reason that Harry could rest his mind without the pressure of being the hero on his shoulders. Moody left later that night, and all had their thoughts on Harry, not sure how much longer he would be considered the Boy Who ‘Lived.’

---

Harry heard screams all around him as he ran. He didn’t know where he was or his destination. All he knew was that he had to keep running. The screams continued. Some screamed in pain, others in fear. Some screamed his name in such a way it broke his heart. He had failed all those he cared about. He saw Ron and Hermione fall to the ground. Ginny was already gone. He saw Moody fighting Voldemort, and ran towards them. Nearing their location, he saw Moody hit with a green light and fall to the ground amongst the mess of bodies twisted around each other. The Dark Lord turned to Harry and laughed, his wand out and his body covered in sweat.

“The Boy Who Lived, is that right? How about the Boy Who Failed! This is your end, Potter!”

With those eyes glistening with hatred and malice, Voldemort pulled his wand back and screamed with every fiber in his evil being the Killing Curse, then hurled it straight at Harry.

Harry’s world turned green for a moment before he awoke screaming. His eyes flew open to see Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Dean holding him down to keep him from moving. He struggled for a moment, the nightmare still too close and to recent to forget. His heart felt on fire, like it was bleeding openly for the world to see. After the initial shock passed, he settled down before collapsing again.

A moment later, he awoke to the shaking of his body by his friend Ron. He felt a huge feeling of relief that Ron was alive, and not dead as in the dream. His friend looked at him with concern and confusion.

“What the bloody hell was that about, Harry?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered honestly. He had no idea why he would have such a dream. With the cumulative amount of knowledge forced into his brain these past few days, it was a wonder he was still not in a coma.

“What happened in your dream?” Ron pressed. “Was it another one where you were Voldemort?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. My scar isn’t even hurting at the moment. It was just my fears played out to a conclusion I hope I never see.”

“So what exactly did you see?”

“I saw...the end of the world,” Harry replied with a sense of gravity. The two best friends looked at each other from either side of Harry’s bed before deciding to go back to sleep. This last comment made them both fearful of what could happen. Harry wanted to pretend this dream never happened, but it stayed in his mind the rest of the night, as if a movie projector was replaying it on his eyelids.

The next day began as a blur for Harry. As he sleepily walked through the portrait, he saw Hermione follow him. As it turned out, their first class was the same, and started at the unprecedented hour of half past seven in the morning: Professional Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. Not only was there a new curriculum for Defense Against the Dark Arts, as was told to them during the feast, but there was a more intense feel in this class as well. A sense of urgency seemed to possess Professor McGonagall as she quickly told the class what they would be learning and how they should approach this last year of their schooling at Hogwarts.

“This is your final year,” said McGonagall, “and you need to make sure this is the year you make the biggest impression. After all, succeeding this year, you are going into the workforce with every other witch and wizard, and the competition will be strong. This is also the year you choose the profession you will do the rest of your days. It is critical that you take this year seriously and that you work your hardest ever, and I say this in all seriousness. You are in this class because it pertains to the career you have chosen for yourselves. The rest of your schedule is designed like this to give you the most experience just before you start your lives after Hogwarts. You must make an impression this year, and I expect no less from each one of you. You may also want to note that, if you’re hoping to pass this class with an Acceptable, I suggest you do your best.

“As far as curriculum, you will be learning some new things, as this is another class that the course content has been changed. The reasons for this change have been unique, just like this year will be. You will be learning more defense-oriented material, so if the time comes, which will hopefully be never, you shall have the skills to defend yourselves. Another part of this class has never been taught before, and it is more advanced than anything you have undertaken in any of your studies: how to become Animagi.”

The classroom erupted in conversation at the prospect of becoming an Animagus. It had never crossed their minds that this could even be a possibility, and every student was very excited. Their intrigue attained, they quieted quickly to listen to whatever was to be said next. The reason it had never been taught in a classroom prior to that moment, as it were, was because of the complexity and legality of it. After all, not all witches and wizards were able to become Animagi, in spite of the proper tutelage. Apparently, Professor McGonagall thought it best she taught this material, her being an Animagus herself. This portion of the class had been devised by Animagi from the Ministry of Magic. She further explained that, while the majority of the class would most likely not achieve the full effect, the material would still be taught and required for passing the class.

“This is one of the larger things being taught in this class this year, but it is not the only thing. As seventh years, you all have, in some form or another, been able to achieve the skills of previous years. Though the Animagi chapter is large and difficult, and the most advanced you will probably ever study at Hogwarts, the rest of the material in this class is nonetheless complicated. My expectations are that you will all learn and master every transfiguration skill from previous years and be able to adequately perform the skills taught this year. By the time this class is finished, you should all be able to successfully transform any object, including yourselves, into something else and back again. Now please open your textbooks to page 14 and begin reading about the Introduction of Professional Transfiguration.”

To say the book was difficult to comprehend was an understatement, as it contained many spells and wand movements that hadn’t been covered previously. On many occasions, students approached Professor McGonagall’s desk and asked for her to help them better understand the reading, which she did. She later decided to get up and review the section just read. She showed them some examples and told her students they would be required to perform the examples provided by the next class. She also said that this was just review for the Animagus chapter, which would follow the first unit. With that, the class was dismissed.

After Transfiguration, Harry and Hermione worked their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Both looked for Ron and Ginny, but they weren’t there. Ron would be waking up soon, though. As for Ginny, since she was a year below them, she did not have classes until the ten o’clock hour. There were few students up at that time, so the two friends sat together and ate their breakfast, too tired to talk.

The day was still young, however. Harry and Hermione both had History of Magic next, where they were joined by a sleepy Ron. Naturally, as it is with sleepy teenagers in a boring class, all three fell asleep within the first ten minutes. Even Hermione, who was always as alert as possible in that class, was sleeping. After the hour was up, the three left, groggy and having learned nothing. They passed a very energetic Ginny on their way back to the Gryffindor commons room, who said good morning cheerily as she passed them on her way to her first class.

Having a break until later that afternoon, the threesome sat in their favorite seats by the fireplace. After sitting in these spots for six years, they were almost designated as their seats. They compared schedules to see which classes they had the same. As they were each to choose a different profession, their classes would be drastically different this year, and the chance of having a number of classes together would be slimmer than before. Harry and Hermione talked about the prospect of becoming Animagi in Transfiguration, a class which Ron had dropped. When looking at each other’s schedules, they noticed Harry and Hermione’s schedules were almost identical, with two exceptions. Hermione was taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, whereas Harry was taking Astronomy. Both saw they had a new class called Healing, and were curious as to what it was about. Hermione looked at Ron’s schedule, and was shocked. He was only with them for Charms, Potions, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He also only had six classes total.

“What are you going to do after Hogwarts, Ron?” asked Hermione, curious as to why their friend’s schedule was so different.

“Well, I’m still not entirely sure what,” he replied nervously, “but I was thinking about being a professor at Hogwarts.” When his friends’ eyes shot up in a shocked manner, he continued.

“The reason is because, well, when I was talking to Professor McGonagall in fifth year, she said I had a, uh, ‘strong aptitude’ for passing on knowledge. She also said that because of the way I was raised, it would be beneficial for me to stay in a less complex working environment rather than going into the Ministry. At the end of last year, she told me that I’d almost certainly get a job at Hogwarts as a professor, as they would be needing them in future years. I thought about it over the summer, and I, err, decided I’d give it a try.”

“It’s more than a try, mate,” said Harry, pointing to Ron’s schedule. “You’ve got Instruction classes every day of the week for two hour periods!”

Ron did a double take as he looked at his schedule, clearly not having paid enough attention at first. With a sigh of disgruntlement, he folded the paper up and shoved it into his back pocket.

“Well, at least you two will have a lot of classes together,” he said before walking away, leaving his friends looking onward. Harry and Hermione couldn’t explain their schedules other than coincidence, until they talked about which field they wanted to go into for a profession.

“What are you doing after Hogwarts, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“I wanted to be a Healer for the Ministry, Harry,” she responded. “They work closely with Aurors and others who are defending the Ministry of Magic. It’s not like someone at St. Mungo’s or anything like that, but it is something that caught my interest. There’s a lot of research for the subject, and it involves a lot of puzzle-solving.”

“Right up your alley, then,” Harry said with a gleam of humor in his eye. “Well, we’ll hopefully be seeing a lot of each other then, after school gets out.”

“Don’t be so melancholy, Harry. Of course we’ll see a lot of each other after Hogwarts; and Ron too. You’ll see. Let’s get going. We’ve got Healing next.”

---

When Harry and Hermione entered the new classroom, located close to the Gryffindor tower, they were surprised to find a rather empty room. The beige stone walls were decorated with a few diagrams showing the motions of some wand techniques the students had never seen before. The four desks were in a circular pattern, all facing the front of the room. A small class, it was for those who were training for Healers and Aurors specifically. Healing was also reputed to be one of the most challenging classes offered at Hogwarts. The ceilings of the room were high, and the walls broad. The professor’s office was in the back of the room, much like the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. This office, however, was covered by a thick, deep red curtain that also covered a great deal of the front part of the room. As the sixteen students took their seats, they looked around at their new surroundings, conversations naturally starting around the room.

“I wonder what’s behind the curtain,” exclaimed Harry. “What do you suppose is there, Hermione?”

When Hermione did not answer, he turned to face her. She wasn’t even blinking. Harry followed her star struck gaze as the rest of the talking ceased in the room. The professor had walked out of his office and stood quietly in front of the class. He wore black pants and a grey shirt with a long black jacket. Unlike most other professors, his robe was leather and had a more weathered look to it. The man himself was no more than forty years of age, yet looked a few years younger. He was ruggedly handsome, unshaven with messed up hair and a smile that eased every guy’s worries and melted every girl’s heart.

“Welcome to my class,” said the professor in his Scottish accent. “This is Healing, so if you’re in the wrong class, please leave the same way you entered.” When no one left, nigh flinched, he continued.

“My name is William Garrison, and I will, obviously, be your professor this year. You all are seventh years, and this is the only truly new class for you. I will take this time to inform you all that this is the only Healing class in the entire school, so take a close look around you. These individuals will be your allies in this class, and will be the only ones capable of helping you with your coursework.”

Professor Garrison walked around the room, speaking about the curriculum and the content of the class. Hermione, along with every female in the classroom, had fallen in love with his looks and his accent, as it was so out of place in a British school. He spoke articulately, yet fluidly enough to keep the attention of his class.

“Make no mistake: this class is no easy task. I’ve heard the reputation of the course, and I’m afraid it is every bit as difficult as it is deemed. This is one of the most challenging classes at this school. One of the many things that will get you through it is how closely it parallels Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Transfiguration. These classes combined make up the field you are going into: Aurors and Healers both. They are all methods of defense, which are ever so critical at the present.

“To prepare you for the world that awaits, we will cross these subjects a number of times to show you how they all interconnect. Don’t worry. I will start out at a reasonable pace and work you up to where you need to be. Today, however, is a day of introductions. I want each of you to tell me your names and your experiences pertinent to this class. We’ll start with you.”

He smiled and pointed at a girl in the back of the class, who succeeded in introducing herself after several failed attempts. She had no experience with defense or healing, but she hoped to learn. She never lost eye contact with Professor Garrison, and sat after her introduction looking flustered. The same was with most students, the exceptions being the boys, although they did seem to stand a little straighter in front of their professor. Most of the class, as it turned out, did not have any experience with defense or healing. It finally came to Hermione, and she stood up on weak knees.

“And what’s your name, my dear?” asked Professor Garrison.

“I’m...Hermione...Hermione Granger,” she stammered. As he walked in front of her, she looked into his eyes with adoration.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Ms. Granger. Is it true you have the highest marks in your class?”

Hermione looked down and modestly nodded her head.

“Impressive! I suspect you’ve had some experience then, am I right?”

Once again, Hermione nodded. She looked back up, and Professor Garrison noticed a change in her temperament as she began to tell of her experiences with Harry, Ron, and all the commotion that concluded their sixth year. After all, Hermione had been alongside Harry for most of his struggles, and had learned from him a great deal of her knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts. When she had finished, the teacher looked taken aback, then smiled.

“That’s quite a lot, I must say. Being friends with the young man sitting next to you, I would presume, would almost make these experiences expected.”

Professor Garrison smiled once more at Hermione and she took her seat. He walked to the last student in the room. Harry had a feeling it would be him to go last, and he was correct. He looked up at the professor and stood, locking eyes with him. Professor Garrison had an intense look that seemed to shoot right through Harry, peering into his heart. Speechless, Harry just stared back until his professor began to speak, still looking him eye to eye.

“So, you are the boy I’ve been hearing about for the past sixteen years: the legendary Harry Potter. The same young man who saw the end and return of Voldemort; the same young man who has foiled his plans on more than one occasion; the same young man who was with Professor Dumbledore before he fell. I’m sure, of all the class, you have the most stories and horrors to tell. So why don’t you, Mr. Potter?”

Harry was taken aback by the unrelenting gaze of his professor, as he was the only student to receive such a look. A more unexpected event caught Harry’s attention, however.

“You said his name!” was the first thing out of Harry’s mouth. Judging from the class’ reaction, he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Voldemort? Of course. Fear of a name makes no logical sense or reason. An Auror or Healer must lose fear of all danger around him or her before they are able to succeed in this line of work. Now, if you’ve any experiences you’d care to share with the class, you may do so with the remaining five minutes of it.”

And Harry did just that. He added the things that Hermione did not witness, including the deaths of Dumbledore and Cedric, the duels with Voldemort his fourth and fifth years, and many other events that were just as unforgettable. He slowly sat down as he finished, the class and the professor eyeing him the whole while. Professor Garrison never took his eyes off Harry. He just watched him with that piercing stare before saying his closing statements.

“Well, as the class can see, there are some of us who have an edge going into the following lessons. It is these individuals who can help you the most. You might try seeing past the houses you’ve been divided into and becoming allies. I think you all know that, in a time such as this, allies are hard to come by, and we’ll be needing as many of them as possible. These students can help you through this class if you need the help, as can I. Don’t be afraid to ask. For coursework, I only ask that you read the first chapter in your book. Write a half a scroll about what was said in your own words. This will tell me what you understood and what you didn’t. Next class is when I start lecturing, so be prepared. You are dismissed. That is, all except you, Mr. Potter. Meet me in my office.”

As the class filed out, Hermione gave Harry an apologetic look before leaving, mouthing that she’d meet him in the Great Hall for lunch. Harry turned around and returned to his desk. Professor Garrison motioned for him to follow him in his office, so Harry complied. Once there, he saw the office was quite different than he would have imagined it. There was the obvious desk, but there were potions and books on every shelf, with some titles Harry had never heard of. Many dealt with the Dark Arts, while others were in regards to Healing and complex spells. Professor Garrison watched him wander aimlessly around the room for a moment before breaking his concentration.

“I wanted to speak to you alone, Potter, as there are several things that you and I need to get straight between the two of us,” he began in a very serious manner that made Harry nervous. “Firstly, it’s obvious your level of experience far exceeds your peers. Let’s face it: you’re a legend in our world. That being said, I’ve also heard a great deal of your rule-breaking escapades, and let me firmly inform you that will not be tolerated by me. Moody’s not the only one who can prove a point when it comes to discipline. Furthermore, your past experiences do not dictate what grade you will receive in my class, nor do these experiences give you an excuse to not do your absolute best.”

Harry didn’t know what to say in the ensuing silence. He felt that the wrong comment would make him seem boastful or cowardly. While thinking of a response, he avoided Professor Garrison’s eyes, which always seemed to reach into the depths of Harry’s mind, seeking some unseen reality.

“So, you want to become an Auror, do you?”

Harry nodded blankly, still not quite sure what to make of the situation.

“You seem to know how to handle yourself in, shall we say, difficult situations. The trick to becoming an Auror, however, is to read a situation before it gets out of hand. That’s something you’ve got to learn before you even consider taking on Voldemort. Now, the Order’s brought me up to speed on things, so I’ll be helping you as much as I can. I wasn’t kidding when I said Aurors and Healers work together. I’ve actually worked with Moody several years back, when Voldemort was in power the first time.

“In any case, there’ll be plenty of time between now and school’s end for more discussion on this. I’m afraid you’ll be experiencing the difficulties of the Auror’s life sooner rather than later. But you'll need to excuse me. I’m late for a meeting with the other professors, so I will see you next class.”

With that, Professor Garrison left the office and Harry to go to his meeting. Harry stood there dumbfounded for a brief moment before collecting his senses and walked out. He walked to the Great Hall, immersed in his thoughts. He didn’t see Hermione walk up to him with a concerned look on her face, so she gently touched his arm to bring him back to the present.

“What did Professor Garrison want to speak to you about?” she asked.

“Well, he’s a member of the Order, and he’s worked with Moody before out in the field. He seems to know what he’s doing, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit, err, apprehensive around him.”

“You can trust him, Harry,” said Hermione. “He’s a teacher. Besides, he really seems to be very knowledgeable on the subject. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just a feeling.”

Harry wanted to believe the same, but something kept him from doing so. He had a feeling Hermione’s assumptions about Garrison were reminiscent of their second year in regards to Lockhart, but even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling he got from his professor. It was a kind of feeling that Harry hadn’t felt before: an almost embraceable, yet unsolicited threat. The two still had Herbology and Charms that day, and both were anxious to see Ron’s reaction to his first Instructors class.

As it turned out, Ron’s Instructions classes, while time consuming and coursework heavy, held Ron’s interest. He told them of what he was learning, and his discoveries as to why things appear one way to a student to achieve the desired goal of the professor. He didn’t have much time to talk after that, however, as he had work to do. He willingly walked to the table and took out his pen, making Hermione almost pass out with shock at the change in him.

---

The next couple days passed just as school always does, with much to do and little free time. Charms was its usual self, with little more than a review for the week, as was Herbology. The latter consisted of almost a duel between Neville and Hermione for who knew the most about the subject. By the time the smoke cleared, Gryffindor had earned well over 50 points, and they left the greenhouses content. Harry found his Astronomy class just as mundane as the years before, and Ron discovered he had a rather unsettling amount of work ahead of him. He had already suffered through many hours in his Instructor’s course. The workload greatly depressed him, and put him in an unhappy disposition for a while. On that Thursday of the first week, the trio walked down to the dungeons for Potions, a class that Harry knew was going to be difficult this year without the help of the Half-Blood Prince.

Professor Slughorn was in his usual pleasant mood as the class walked in. Harry was not pleased to see that Malfoy and his cronies had decided to continue the class as well. The class began just as the others had before it, with what would be covered. The difference is there was a quiz. Slughorn wanted to see what was remembered from the previous year. Hermione beamed at him, as her wish to disprove Harry as the best in the class had finally come true. The unfortunate thing for her was that, to Harry, the Prince’s book was one of his most prized, if not most despised, possessions. Though it had formerly belonged to Snape, the advice and spells contained within its aged, worn pages was invaluable, and Harry had been studying it in his spare time to make sure he was ready for any encounter he may have with the old Potions master.

The quizzes were turned in, and Professor Slughorn gave his students a reading assignment to keep them occupied as he graded the pieces of parchment passed in to him. He called out their names after he finished grading them and gave them a positive or negative comment as to their results. A familiar smile crossed his face as he looked at Harry’s table. Hermione’s smile was broader than ever...that is, until she heard the comments.

“Harry, my boy, you truly have outdone yourself! You have the top marks in the class so far this year, just the same as last. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; your mother would certainly have been proud!”

Hermione was fuming, to say the least, as Ron chuckled at her reaction. Professor Slughorn approached Harry and quietly asked him a question pertaining to Lily.

“Have you met with Professor Garrison yet?”

Harry nodded slowly, not sure why he was being asked about his Healing professor.

“I know he may seem like a hard person to cope with, but believe me when I tell you, he is one of the Order’s most valued members. You will come to see why in time. For the moment, trust him. Take my word for it, alright?”

Harry nodded once more before returning to his work. Professor Slughorn walked back to his desk and finished grading the quizzes of the rest of the students. When the class left, Hermione was still in an ill mood, but it had been slightly lifted, as she had received the second highest marks in the class. Over their lunch break, she couldn’t stay mad at Harry. She remembered the ending of their sixth year, and the summer they’d had, and her anger slowly melted away.

The remaining classes of the week were more challenging than anything the seventh years had experienced. Professor Garrison tested them almost immediately to see who completed the assignment. Each of the Healing students were also tested about their knowledge from Defense Against the Dark Arts as well as Potions. The results varied, so he ended the day’s lesson by briefly explaining how the three classes were interwoven. Every professor, as it turned out, even Professor McGonagall, had warned the students the classes would be much more difficult the following week. No one doubted this anymore.

The first weekend arrived, much to the delight of all: Ron especially. He returned from his Instructor’s class on Friday afternoon utterly exhausted and collapsed on the couch in the commons area, falling asleep the instant his head hit the cushioned surface. Having the class every night of the week for two hour sessions was difficult, particularly on students with nonexistent study habits. Harry enjoyed an entertaining, though much less competitive, game of Wizard’s chess with Seamus (he had to play the only person in the school who’d beaten Weasley). Hermione spent a lot of her time with other girls from Gryffindor, helping them with their coursework. Naturally, the weekend passed more quickly than the students would’ve preferred, and it was back to classes. The first couple weeks passed on in this fashion without consequence, except for Healing, which gave even Harry and Hermione a run for their money in terms of the skill level required to perform just half of the spells they were learning. They headed the class in grades and performance, but because Professor Garrison was always being asked for help, he volunteered the two as his assistants. It was a rather unique environment to work in.

Harry and Hermione woke up early every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to attend McGonagall’s Transfiguration class. The past couple weeks had been a challenge, although it was just review. The atmosphere this particular Monday morning, however, was electric: this was the day they would be starting the Animagus unit, which everyone was anxious for. Looking over the assigned readings for the day’s class, Harry and Hermione knew this would not be an easy task by any means. Most students, nor wizards and witches, for that matter, ever mastered becoming an Animagus. It was very complex and difficult magic, and it took a lot of work just to achieve the desired results. The animal one would turn into was determined by something buried deep within the heart of the person performing the magic. This made perfect sense to Harry, as Moody, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs all matched their Animagus perfectly: Moody was, obviously Lupin, the werewolf; Wormtail, Harry recalled spitefully, was a rat of a person, hence his Animagus; Padfoot, or Sirius, was always alone and the outcast, thus a lone dog or grim; and Prongs, James Potter, was proud and strong, thus a stag. Harry pondered what his would be, should he be able to attain an Animagus form.

The class was alive with conversations of this very matter as Professor McGonagall entered the room. She quieted them down before reviewing once more the material from the last week’s lessons. After each student demonstrated they had mastered these spells, she asked them a few questions about the Animagus transformations to see who had read. As it turned out, every student had read and answered the questions correctly. McGonagall was impressed. It wasn’t every year an entire class was so well prepared for an upcoming lesson, let alone at this hour on a Monday morning. She chose this time to do her introduction to reiterate what was already known.

“Just to remind you, this part of the class has never been taught prior to this year, but the Ministry sees it fit that you should learn as much magic as possible should you ever need to use it. This particular book, which contains the Animagus unit, was therefore chosen. As you know, the Animagus is the form of animal a witch or wizard can transform themselves into. It is the second truest form of a person’s physical being, as it comes from the deepest part of your heart. Sometimes family heirloom or genealogy can influence this transformation, or a traumatic incident from the past. Sometimes, however, an Animagus can take a form unexpected to the user. This is why it is one of the most complex types of magic you will ever do, and many don’t ever get to their final form. You all read the procedures in the book, so allow me to demonstrate the transformation before I proceed.”

With that, the class watched the familiar scene of their professor transforming into a cat. The feline figure mewed in a jovial tone before reverting to its original form. The class applauded, which made Professor McGonagall’s face flush for a moment. She composed herself quickly before continuing.

“Now how did I do that? Yes, Ms. Granger.”

“You focused on your most defining moment in your past and allowed it to overtake you entirely, thus changing your form to whatever the memory allowed you to be,” answered Hermione.

“Very good, as usual, Ms. Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. However, what you said is really only true for the first time you change forms. Once you know your Animagus, you are able to focus on that alone and it will transform you. The hard part is finding the correct memory. Otherwise, you won’t change at all. Once you find the right memory, you will automatically turn into an animal appropriate in personality and temperament to your own right now. Then you will need me to transform you back to your original state. Once that step is completed, you won’t be able to change back into an Animagus until you’ve studied quite extensively, which is what the rest of the unit is about. Keep in mind this does not happen quickly, nor can you speed up the process. It takes years to fully master the art of being an Animagi, and it’s not a task I expect you to do well. If you’re able, we’ll see your Animagus in class. Otherwise, you will still study the chapter and do your best to keep up. Now, I want everyone to close their eyes and search their minds and hearts for a memory that you feel defines you. Well, go on!”

The students closed their eyes one by one and thought hard. Professor McGonagall was amused at their faces. It was evident some were really trying to concentrate. Either that, or perhaps they felt, by deforming and scrunching their face as much as possible, they would be able to change. Though this made some of them quite amusingly unrecognizable, it was not a method of transformation by any means, or in any form of magic. Consequently, they all opened their eyes moments later and looked around disappointedly.

“What did you do wrong?” asked Professor McGonagall. When no one answered, she explained something she had intentionally omitted earlier. “Sometimes the most remote or unobvious stimulation can jar your memory. Try again.”

The same thing happened as last time. The scrunched faces of deep concentration, the sweating of those who knew they hadn’t succeeded. Only this time, when the students opened their eyes, their professor was gone. A Ravenclaw girl in the back had a cat sitting suddenly next to her, glaring at her eye to eye. A look of shock came across the girl’s face, then suddenly she was gone! In her place was a Golden Retriever dog with beautiful, long fur. She barked happily as the cat transformed back into their professor.

“Now you see what I meant,” she said with a smile on her face. “I must admit, though, I wasn’t expecting this on the first day. That’s quite impressive.”

The dog started wagging her tail and panting at this comment before running around the room. Each student pet her head and laughed at the funny situation. The dog returned to the side of Professor McGonagall after a minute or so and sat, waiting instructions.

A moment later, the girl reappear in the place of the dog, still sitting with that silly grin on her face. She stood up and joined her cheering classmates.

“Ten points to Ravenclaw. Well done, Melinda! Now, I must ask...how did you do that? A witch or wizard is rarely, and I mean rarely, ever able to achieve an Animagus state on the first attempt.”

“Err...to be honest,” Melinda responded, “I’ve already studied Animagi. Last year I grabbed a book and tried to change forms, but this is the first time it’s ever worked for me.”

“That’s still very impressive,” Professor McGonagall said, making the girl blush. “You may sit back in your desk and work on the next section. The rest of you, continue to practice.”

And so they did. Over and over the class closed their eyes and concentrated on memories. Unfortunately, over and over again, the students were disappointed with the lack of results. Once the period was over, the class packed up. Professor McGonagall reminded them that class was cancelled Wednesday due to a meeting she had. With that, the class filed out.

Harry and Hermione met up with Ron for History of Magic, where they all, the exception being Ron, paid attention. Their professor noticed this and actually awarded points in his class for the first time in a decade of teaching. They had their break, where Ron was told the story of Melinda as a dog, and how both Harry and Hermione both wondered what they would become once they solved the mysteries of their past. Ron wondered aloud what he would be, suggesting such beasts as dragons and trolls. Hermione wasn’t pleased to hear it, but she didn’t have time to deflate Ron’s ego at the moment. Today they had Defense Against the Dark Arts.

---

When Harry walked into the room, it was as if he was walking into a memory he never wanted to relive: the room was almost exactly as it was three years ago. It had the dark, ominous feel to it, with the enemy scanners and detectors placed in the office and forefront of the classroom. Recollections of Cedric and the horrific events of that day involving Voldemort’s return and the revealing of the false Mad-Eye, Barty Crouch Jr., flooded Harry’s mind again as he took another step into the time capsule before him.

The class was silent as they awaited their professor. But Moody was no where to be seen. Harry nervously got up and checked the office: no sign of him there. The class volume gradually increased as each student discussed theories as to why their instructor was not here. Five minutes passed without a trace of him, and this made Harry worry. It was not usual for Moody to be late for anything, especially when he made a commitment to be at a certain place at a certain time. Constant vigilance, he always said, and this was far from it. Just as a few students packed their bags to leave, the door flew open, and Professor Moody stormed in, his usual scowl present. The scars on his face had worsened due to the curses he sustained during the fight at the Muggle Ministry. He glared at the students about to leave, and they quickly retook their seats. Not giving any explanation to his tardiness, he started the lesson.

“I am Professor Moody, as you all know by now. I was scheduled to teach here three years ago by request of Dumbledore, but had a rather callous encounter with an enemy I thought dead. I hear there is a curse on this job. Supposedly, a teacher can only hold this position for one year’s time before some untold occurrence eradicates them from it. As the school needs more protection, I was requested once more to teach. In any case, I will be your instructor for the Dark Arts course. You all heard the speech at the beginning of the year about the curriculum changing, correct?”

The class nodded their heads in unison.

“Then you won’t be surprised that, when you open your textbooks, you will know almost nothing about the materials there. I’ve already seen what you have studied, and you have learned almost nothing. In the book that I chose for this class are secret spells and curses that are not taught in any other magical school in the world, as they are truly Dark magic. The Ministry believes this material is too advanced and too inappropriate for this sort of class, but they’re not teaching the class, are they? The Dark Arts are alive and well, and you’d best be on your guard if you’re hoping to get to your last day at Hogwarts.”

Moody limped back and forth in the front of the classroom, going over some of the curses in the book. Several of them were counter-measures to be taken should something be thrown at a student unexpectedly.

“Some of you have more aptitude for this than others, but this class will be more challenging than you could possibly imagine. If you need assistance, there are ways of receiving it. Now, if there are no questions, then I suggest we start. Open your books to the first chapter and read.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged looks of awe and astonishment as they opened their textbooks for the first time. They exchanged more looks after reading the first paragraph. The book was impossibly complex, and contained descriptions of what each curse was designed to do. Some of the ones listed in the first chapter alone were rather grotesque in nature, and others were very intricate. Even Hermione had difficulty understanding how the curses were performed. Moody watched over the class with both eyes, scanning to see who comprehended the first chapter. He knew it was perhaps the most complicated text on the subject, second to only one, which was missing. It was the only one of its kind, and that would more than likely be in the possession of the Dark Lord. After the hour, the students left. Harry stayed behind, curious to see what Moody would have to say about his Healing professor.

“So you met Garrison, did you?” growled Moody with a grin. Harry nodded. “A very interesting man he is, as you’ll come to discover. He works quite well in the Dark Arts, and I’ve worked with him a number of times before.”

“He mentioned that,” said Harry. “I felt a bit...odd, when I met with him after class. He called me into his office...”

“I’m not sure what he told you, but he’s a very powerful wizard. Healers and Aurors work side by side often. It’s a partnership that saves more lives than you’ll ever be able to count. He’s seen the darker side of magic, and he’s saved my neck a number of times. He was also in that picture of the Order I showed you a couple years ago.” Moody paused, noticing Harry scanning his memory of the picture for Garrison. “Remember the youngest looking one in the back behind Sirius?”

The image cleared in Harry’s mind, and focused on the man behind Sirius. He remembered now, and wondered how he had not made the connection before. He knew that photograph forwards and backwards. He stayed trapped in his thoughts for a moment longer before looking back to the amused face of Moody.

“But Professor, why hasn’t he been with the Order lately?”

“He has his reasons,” Moody replied simply. “If he wishes to share them with you, he will when the time is right. Now, you still want to become an Auror, yes?” Harry affirmed the comment. “Well, if that truly is your plan, which I feel you have a talent for, you’ll need both of us, as well as that fool, Slughorn, to help you through this next year. We’ll also be the ones going with you on your missions throughout the year. Speaking of which, have you thought of what you’re going to do to get into the Mansion of the Malfoys?”

Alastor dropped his voice on that last statement, as if the walls were spying on them. Harry didn’t have the faintest idea of what Moody was trying to get across to him, and got smacked in the head by his professor’s staff in an attempt to jog his memory.

“How do you expect to be a challenge for Voldemort when you can’t even figure out something as simple as getting into a mansion? Seriously, boy, THINK! Who else, other than Malfoy, has stepped foot in that Manor?”

Then it hit Harry, ironically in the same way the broom idea hit him three years ago, in the same office of the same man, so to speak. He looked up at Moody, who had a grin on his face.

“Figure it out yet?”

“Dobby!” Harry exclaimed, surprised he didn’t think of it before.

“If I were you, I’d get to work on that, Potter. Your time is running short. Voldemort will be looking for the next move to make, now that the Muggles are running scared from the clock tower incident. Let me know when you’re going, as I’ll be the one to go with you. Understand?”

Harry nodded once more, and received a hard pat on the shoulder. He turned and walked out of the office, feeling confident he would be able to do this task after all. As he wandered through the corridors, he decided to take a different route to Gryffindor tower. Walking through one of the courtyards of Ravenclaw, he saw a group of students surrounding an area that he couldn’t see. He also heard fast-paced music. He pushed his way through the crowd to see what was going on. He was amazed at what he saw, as it was something he’d never seen before.

A student, with a facial complexion Harry had never seen before, was dancing. Only it wasn’t the dancing Harry was used to. The kid was by himself, and kicking and punching thin air to the beats of the music. He did it so quickly, though, that his movements were a blur. He’d often leap off the ground, replacing his feet with one hand while doing a double-legged kick, then spin and flip upward back to a vertical base. He continued like this for a few minutes more before kneeling on the ground with his hands together in front of him and his eyes closed, signaling the end of the presentation. The group of spectators cheered him as he bowed in appreciation and respect for their attention before departing. The crowd disbanded quickly afterwards. The music, as it turned out, was coming from a circle of wands placed on a bush. The students to whom those wands belonged all knew the song, and with their combined efforts, the wands emitted sound waves mimicking the song they were thinking about. The boy walked in Harry’s direction, and stopped five feet in front of him.

“Say, aren’t you Harry Potter?” the boy asked in an accent Harry had not yet heard.

“Yes, I am. Who are you? Where did you come from? And what were you doing just then?”

“Wow, you ask a lot of questions for a first meeting!” the boy exclaimed with a smile. “Well, my name is Ricky Li. I transferred to Hogwarts from a school of magic in Hong Kong, which is close to China. And I was doing a martial arts demonstration in the mixed styles of Shuri-te, Kung Fu, and Capoeira. That about answer your questions?”

“I do have one more...”

“Go ahead, Potter.”

“Could you teach me how to do that?”

Ricky laughed aloud for a moment before looking back at Harry. He had an easiness about him that relaxed Harry. The new boy thought a moment longer before giving his answer.

“Stop by this courtyard sometime next week and I’ll see what we have to work with as far as a trade is concerned. Knowing the issues you have on your shoulders, though, I may just do it free of charge. Depends on my mood, I’m afraid. See you in a week, Potter.”

With that, the boys parted ways. Harry continued his walk towards Gryffindor tower with more excitement than he knew how to contain. He had so much still to learn about a great many things, but he was confident, for the first time in a long time, that he would be able to meet and master every challenge presented to him.

Harry had an agenda. As he wondered the hallways between classes, he knew what had to be done, and tonight was the night to do it. The past week had been an interesting one. There was the load of homework for everybody. Harry had to start putting together the Gryffindor Quidditch team soon. There was also Malfoy, who had grown moodier over the past couple days. Harry was outdoing him in every class they had together, which Harry was thankful wasn’t many. Many things weighed heavily on his mind. He would talk to Dobby tonight, but he was still wondering what his Animagus would be. The Horcruxes ever-present in his thoughts, he knew the time for hunting them down would be soon. Thus, the day dragged on to its end.

The evening would be a routine event for Harry. He talked to Ron and Hermione about what he was planning. Ron, of course, could be counted on as an accomplice. Hermione, however, decided she had too much work to finish. She apologized sincerely before departing, leaving the two boys to their plot. They waited until eleven o’clock in the evening before daring to move from their stations in the commons area near the fire place. Once the last student left for bed, they waited exactly five minutes: then they were off.

Harry raced up the stairs and quietly opened the door to his dormitory room. He softly muttered a new spell he learned to keep the wood from creaking under his feet as he jetted across the room to his chest, withdrawing his father’s invisibility cloak. He retreated, gently closed the door, and met Ron by the portrait. With just the two of them and not Hermione as well, it would be a little easier to fit them both under the cloak this time.

Both Gryffindors lit their wands and followed the Marauder’s Map down the many corridors of the castle until reaching a familiar painting. Ron reached out and tickled the pear on the painting, which opened a door not visible at first, both because of the dim light and because it was hidden. Harry and Ron entered through the door into the kitchen, and the home of the House Elves.

Upon the boys’ entrance, the elves stopped their work and looked their way. It had been a while since their last visit, and the house elves had forgiven the troubles Harry and Ron had caused earlier. They smiled at the boys and asked them if they would like anything. Ron acquiesced, naturally, but Harry respectfully declined. He scanned the room for the one elf he desperately needed to speak to, but Dobby was no where in sight. He walked forward through the sea of other elves to the fireplace, where he saw Kreacher sulking in the back corner. He called him forth, and Kreacher, not having any other choice but to obey, approached, muttering audible insults along the way.

“What would Master like of Kreacher?” he asked, stooping in a contemptuous bow.

“Have you seen Dobby?” asked Harry in a tone that demanded respect. “And don’t tell me you haven’t seen him or you won’t tell me where he is if you have seen him.”

The elf muttered curses at Harry for thinking of any loopholes to the question, and thus answered honestly: “Dobby is outside the castle.”

“What is he doing outside the castle,” asked Harry, now concerned.

“Dobby’s friend, Winky, died the other day, though she had it coming, the wretched �“”

“That’s enough, Kreacher!” Harry said sternly. “Where is he outside the castle?”

After several rephrases of the question, Harry got the answer he was looking for. He told Ron, who was too interested in the food and the talk from the house elves to care much, so Harry left alone under the cloak. On his way out, Ron quickly said he’d wait for him in the kitchen before returning to his meal and conversation. Harry grabbed the cloak and put it on, leaving the festive environment that the kitchen always encompassed to find his friend.

Consulting the map, he found the nearest exit of Hogwarts, narrowly dodging Filch and Mrs. Norris. Once outside, he followed Kreacher’s directions, crude as they were, to a spot that the map pointed out as Dobby’s location. Harry looked up and saw the elf, ears drooped and a frown on his face. He was standing over a pile of dirt in front of a small stone, reading “Weenkey.” Harry felt saddened by the scene in front of him, and dropped his cloak from his shoulders.

“Are you alright, Dobby?” he asked tentatively.

Dobby turned around slowly, a sad look upon his face and tears streaming down his long nose. He tried to return Harry’s smile, but didn’t have the heart for it.

“Hello, Harry Potter, sir,” he responded. “Dobby is sad tonight, sir. Dobby’s friend Winky died today, and Dobby had to say goodbye to her.”

With that, the elf broke down into tears. Harry reached down and picked the elf up in a comforting hug, feeling an enormous amount of guilt for the question he had to ask. Dobby wept for a few minutes before pushing away from Harry and straightening up on the ground. He looked at Harry with a face of deep appreciation.

“What would Harry Potter like from Dobby, sir? After all, it is not every day that Harry Potter goes looking for Dobby. Dobby is sorry Harry Potter had to see him like this.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault, Dobby. I asked Kreacher where you were, and he told me where to find you. I have a favor to ask of you, if you want to help me. You don’t have to, as you are feeling sad today, but if you would, I would be very appreciative.”

“Dobby would be honored to help Harry Potter in any way he can, sir! Just ask Dobby what you will, and he will do it. Did Harry Potter want Dobby to follow the Malfoy boy again, sir?”

“No, not this time,” Harry chuckled. “But it does involve the Malfoys.”

Dobby looked confused at this statement, but nodded his head and perked his ears up to let Harry know he was listening.

“Can you remember when you were in the Malfoys’ Mansion?”

“Yes, Dobby can,” the elf replied, shuddering at the memories.

“Do you remember Mr. Malfoy having anything hidden away, like a locket or a box that he wouldn’t let anyone see?” Seeing the elf struggling to speak but hesitating, he added: “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to.”

“Dobby will answer, sir,” he replied quickly, more as a self-reminder than a statement to Harry.

“There was a box my master would look at from time to time, hidden away in the back part of the Mansion, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby remembers where the box is very well, as Dobby was punished for looking inside it, sir.”

“You saw what was inside?” Harry asked excitedly. “Was it a locket?”

“Dobby was not able to look for long, and cannot remember what was inside. Dobby is sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Harry responded disappointedly. “Dobby, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it that Harry Potter wants?”

“I need you, in the near future, to take me to the Malfoy Mansion and lead me to that box.”

From the expression on Dobby’s face, it would seem as if Harry had asked him to kill the Minister of Magic! Dobby looked horrorstruck, and didn’t speak for quite some time. When he did speak, his voice was unsteady.

“If Harry Potter wishes to go to the Mansion, then Dobby will take him there. But there is only one time that Harry Potter can do this task, sir.”

“When is that, Dobby?” Harry asked, determined to finish this before the elf changed his mind.

“At the end of the week, sir, when my master leaves for the Ministry of Magic. I heard the Malfoy boy say it yesterday.”

---

When Harry and Ron returned to the commons area of Gryffindor tower, both were filled with food and ideas. Harry explained everything that was said to Ron, and the two of them sat in their respective chairs by the fireplace, trying to formulate a plan. Harry had to talk to Moody and Remus about this, but he imagined he would have to find a way of getting in first. After a few minutes, Hermione wondered down to meet them. Harry assumed she would, as she was usually curious to see what trouble he and Ron had gotten into.

“So what did you find out?” she asked with a yawn, drawing the sides of her robe around her.

“Dobby knows the way inside the Malfoy Mansion,” Harry responded. He retold the story quickly to Hermione, who was gradually waking up. Once he had finished, Harry slumped back in his chair and became silent for a while.

“So how are you planning on getting in?” Hermione asked after a while.

“That’s what Harry and I were about to discuss,” said Ron.

“Well,” began Harry slowly, “I would have to wear my father’s Invisibility cloak into the mansion. I’m sure Dobby knows of a way in other than the front door. He’ll lead me through the corridors to the room where Lucius is hiding the Horcrux, and I can grab it and leave.”

“It sounds too easy, Harry,” warned Hermione. “I think Lucius of all people would have traps set around this if it were a part of Voldemort’s soul. Oh, Ron, you’ve got to get used to that name! If I were you, I’d ask Moody what sorts of trappings there could be in a mansion, and how to disarm them. I doubt he’ll be able to go in with you, but I’m sure he knows how to get past anything.”

“Yeah, with parts of him missing,” added Ron, which gave Harry a rather unpleasant thought of him without certain limbs. He shook it off and passed a few more ideas between the two before they went to bed.

The next day, Harry set off to meet Moody after his morning classes. He found his professor in his office, pondering over some old books. Moody turned around right as Harry opened the door with a piercing look from both his eyes.

“Did you figure it out yet, Potter?” he growled.

Harry nodded, explaining to Moody what he had found out from Dobby and his plans for getting in.

“Don’t take Malfoy for a fool, Potter,” Moody warned. “Though he may seem like a witless idiot, he’s one of Voldemort’s most trusted, which means he has some power to him.”

Moody paused here for no apparent reason. He got up from his chair and started pacing around. His magical eye was moving all around the room, taking in all his surroundings. He seemed to be contemplating something vast, or perhaps he was remembering something from his past. After a few more seconds, he returned his look towards Harry.

“I’ll be going with you on this one,” he stated plainly. “I don’t trust Malfoy in the least, and if he’s anything like he used to be, he’ll be wanting a fight. And as determined as you are, you won’t stand a chance against him. The traps thing is a strong possibility, though. That’s something we’ll have to work on.”

He paced some more before explaining to Harry his ideas. He went over some of the craziest traps he’d ever encountered and how he’d gotten past them. Harry was bewildered with some of the stories now being told to him. When he left, he was confused as to what he would be doing at the mansion. It would either be an easy in and out or mortal combat just to get to the chest. Apparently Moody had encountered some trappings that only occurred on the way out of the place. There was a way to avoid everything, which Moody explained to Harry, but all that taken in at one time was too much for him to remember. He took to worrying again the rest of the day.

Every day since that meeting, Harry met with Alastor, who taught him how to take away charms and block curses with both his mind and his wand. The wand techniques were challenging enough for Harry, but he’d never been much good at blocking things with his mind. Moody sent him flying across the room several times because Harry’s mind was on something else at the wrong moment. After several falls, Moody was fed up with it.

“You’re not near where you should be, Potter!” he bellowed. “I’ve seen fifth years pull this stuff off and more, but the great Harry Potter can’t! You’ll never make it out of that mansion alive if you continue like this. Now get up and start blocking!”

At week’s end, Harry was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He was finally able to block almost everything Moody threw at him. He was reminded of his Occlumency lessons with Snape during his fifth year, which were atrocious. Harry collapsed on the couch near the fireplace, desperate for sleep. His eyes were closed for not even a minute when he heard a loud pop. He bolted upright and looked around the room. No one was there.

“Harry Potter, sir, Dobby has come to help you,” said the house elf, who Harry just now noticed. He’d forgotten today was the day he had to go.

As tired as he was, Harry pulled himself up and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. He did a double-take before running up the stairs for his cloak. He met Dobby at the portrait hole. The two took off down the hallways until they met up with another shadow of the night. Harry pulled out his wand just before he was blinded by a light from the wand of the shadowy figure.

“Mr. Potter, it’s Professor McGonagall,” said the voice. “I understand you’re going after the first Horcrux this evening. Professor Moody is waiting at the main gate for you. Please be careful, and let me know as soon as you’re back what you found. Good luck.”

With that, Minerva put out the light and continued on her way. Once the sight returned to Harry’s eyes, he continued towards the main gate. He passed Filch, who was forced to let him through, much to his dismay. Harry finally made it to the main gate of the castle. The doors were already opened, so he walked outside. Moody was waiting with a lit wand and his Invisibility cloak in hand. There was no smile on his face to greet Harry tonight.

“Potter, you need to know what you’re getting into here,” he began in a low voice. “This is a perfect example of an Auror’s work. You may not make it back here alive, and that’s a risk we Aurors have to face on a daily basis. Ever since Voldemort started acting up, we’ve been dying out because of the nasty things he does. You have to remember everything I taught you this week. Otherwise, you might as well turn in for the night and give up. There is no turning back after we’re off these grounds.”

Harry looked confidently at Moody, not as a student, but as a fellow Order member, saying, “I’m ready. Let’s go.” Moody smiled, and they were off.

Once the three figures were off the school grounds, Harry grabbed on to Moody’s robes as the man Apparated to the mansion. Dobby met them there seconds later. They hid in the bushes for a time to make sure the coast was clear before pressing on. Dobby told the two men, now hidden under Invisibility cloaks, where the entrance was that he used to take. It was small, but it wasn’t suspicious enough for the Malfoys to search for incoming spies.

“You know what to do,” said Moody. “Do not duel Lucius, as you will lose. I assure you of that, so listen to me. Get in there, get the Horcrux, fight your way through any traps he may have set up, and get back out here. No detours, Potter. I’ll be waiting outside the front door waiting. Should anything come up, use Lumos Maxima! I’ll see that and come in after you.”

Harry nervously nodded before he turned to Dobby. The elf turned and sprinted through the bushes swiftly towards a well-hidden hole in the side of the mansion. Harry was barely able to squeeze through it. He used a charm to reduce the noise he made while he wormed his way through the labyrinth of passageways. Dobby led him, diligently making sure he was alright. After what seemed like hours, Harry noticed a small hole in the top of the tunnel he was presently in. Dobby climbed through it first, looking around for a few minutes before signaling to Harry that the coast was clear.

Harry climbed out of the tunnel and quickly wrapped his father’s cloak around him and Dobby. He had no sooner done this than Narcissa walked through the doorway. She was in her work clothes and had a worried look on her face as she walked right past the two unwelcome guests in her house. She doused the lights and opened the door. After she closed it softly behind her, he heard whispering voices.

“Do you have any idea what I risked just to get here?” asked a slimy voice Harry detested more than any other save for Voldemort.

“I’m grateful, Severus,” responded Narcissa.

“You said it was an emergency?”

“Yes. Lucius said that Draco has to attend Hogwarts this last year, and he’s now becoming closer to the Dark Lord. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Though the voices grew quieter as the figures walked away, Harry felt himself starting to walk across the room towards the door. Dobby must have noticed, as he started pulling on Harry’s hair.

“Harry Potter must not go outside. It will be too obvious that Harry Potter is here, sir, and we have a mission to do.”

“Dobby, that’s Snape,” said Harry in a callous voice. “You can’t expect me to just let him get away! He’s responsible for the deaths of Dumbledore and my Godfather Sirius!”

“Dobby is most aggrieved sir, but Dobby cannot let Harry Potter go outside. Dobby must show Harry Potter the chest that he asked Dobby about so he can leave.”

Though Harry didn’t want to admit it, the elf was right. Harry looked around the room for the first time, noticing that a suit of green armor was standing right next to the little entryway he and Dobby had just used. There was a table on the other side of the hole, with a plant on top. Dobby must have placed it on there after he was out. The walls, though dark, had a grey color to them, and the floor was wooden. There were two hallways leading from this transitory room, with the staircase leading to the upper floor. Dobby wiggled his way onto Harry’s shoulders before whispering for Harry to walk forward to the first hallway.

Harry whispered, “Lumos!” quietly, hoping the dense fabric of his father’s cloak would shield the light from any unfriendly eyes. He passed several portraits, assuming most of them were the relatives of the Malfoy family. Though they were all sleeping, each portrait seemed to have some sort of unsettling feel about it, as if it were painted to keep the lewd nature of their real-life counterparts.

He continued into the next room, which had another portrait on the walls. He looked at the corner of the room in front of him and froze. Right in front of him, standing not five feet from him, was Voldemort! Harry backed away quickly, tripping over his feet and stumbling to the floor. The robe fell from his shoulders and the light from his wand illuminated the whole room. Voldemort had that cruel, sinister smile on his face as he stared at Harry, who had his wand pointed at his nemesis. He didn’t know how Voldemort knew he would be there, and he was shaking. Just then, he felt his arm being pulled. He couldn’t afford to look at Dobby now!

“What is it?” he whispered harshly.

“That’s my master’s portrait of the Dark Lord, Harry Potter, sir,” responded Dobby. “Not the Dark Lord himself.”

Harry looked at it, and sure enough, it was a portrait. He locked eyes with it, not sure whether to laugh at his reaction or to blow the painting away. Before he made up his mind, it spoke to him.

“What are you doing here, Harry?” the portrait inquired. “Looking for something that doesn’t belong to you, are you? What a shame that your journey has to end so soon.”

The painting of Voldemort took a deep breath, as far as portraits go, to be certain. Harry knew what would happen next: the portrait would scream for Lucius, and then his cover would be broken. He couldn’t let that happen. He quickly whispered “Langlock!” which froze the picture’s tongue. Voldemort didn’t look pleased, but he couldn’t say a word. Harry leapt to his feet, grabbed Dobby and his robe, and left the room.

The duo turned this way and that through another series of hallways and rooms, culminating in a staircase to the basement of the mansion. Dobby whispered for Harry to go down the dark passage. Harry felt very uncomfortable, but he continued. After all, he was beyond any help from Moody at this point. Even if he were to send for Moody, he doubted his professor would see it. Harry wandered through a few more rooms before halting again. Dobby didn’t say anything this time.

Up ahead of them, a light was protruding from one of the rooms. A silhouette was in the middle of the light reflected on the floor. Harry walked quickly to the room next to it before pressing himself against the wall nearest the lit room. He heard Lucius’ voice before Dobby confirmed his worst fear:

“Harry Potter must go in there for the chest, sir.”

The silhouette moved closer to the door until Lucius’ head peered around the corner into the room Harry now occupied. He looked right through Harry, squinting to see in the dark. Seemingly satisfied that he was alone, Malfoy returned to whatever he was working on. Harry was now curious as to how he was going to get in that room, so he inched his way along the wall, getting closer to the door. When he reached the corner, he held his breath and peered around.

Lucius was pacing the room in his work robes and boots. Apparently he hadn’t changed after he returned home from his work. Harry looked at this small room, which was obviously supposed to be hidden if no one were in it. There were two lit torches of green flame on either side of the door, and one yellow flame above a long table which spanned the entire length of the far side of the room. On the table, directly in its center, was a small chest, which was closed and locked. Harry jumped when he heard Lucius speak.

“It must be there. There’s no other explanation. If only Draco had been smart enough to grab it...oh, never mind that. He has enough to deal with. The Dark Lord will be wanting me to get it back, even though he doesn’t know it’s...well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I still have time.”

With that, Malfoy took the yellow torch and made his way towards the door. Harry thought he felt him touch the tip of his cloak, but Lucius didn’t acknowledge any sign of contact. He made his way to the wall next to the door and put a book back in its place that was resting on top of a chair. The stone wall started to slide back. Harry quickly rushed into the room before the door slid completely into place, extinguishing the magic green flames.

Now immerses in total darkness, Harry waited a minute before saying softly, “Lumos!” He walked through the room. The only furniture in the entire room was that table and the chest. Harry stood right in front of the chest and stared at it for a moment. I didn’t think it would be this easy, he thought to himself. He leaned over and said, “Alohomora!” The lock was undone, and Harry carefully opened the chest. Inside was what he had come for. Inside was...

A piece of paper? What? This can’t be happening, thought Harry. Dobby had now climbed onto the table and picked up the piece of paper. He handed it to Harry, who took it, frustrated and embarrassed at this apparent failure. He read the piece of paper, his eyes widening as he proceeded further:

Dear Lucius,

I found what you were looking for, but I wasn’t able to get it in time. Apparently, before I got to Regulus, he gave his brother the locket. By the time I killed him, it wasn’t anywhere to be found. That means that, somewhere in the hidden House of Black is the missing Horcrux. I know you lost the diary, so hopefully I’ll have as good of luck as you. The Dark Lord never found out about that, and I’d like to keep this quite as well. At least until I can find the damn thing. With Sirius gone now, I have to wait until either Potter or someone else from their band of ‘heroes’ to go in before I’m able to reclaim it. Hope your luck is better than mine.

McNair

Harry was stunned. He re-read the note several more times before dropping the note and sitting. He forgot there wasn’t a chair and slumped to the floor. Lost in his thoughts, he tried to remember any time he may have seen a locket. There weren’t any lockets at Grimmauld Place, because Sirius didn’t own any jewelry. He wasn’t sure if his Godfather had kept such a seemingly worthless piece of metal. Harry put himself in a trancelike state, going through every time he was ever in that house. He blocked out Dobby, the light, the mansion he was in: everything was focused on that house. He remembered first seeing it with Lupin and Moody. He remembered talking about the Order of the Phoenix, which Snape was a part of at the time. He remembered cleaning the house. He remembered talking to Kreacher about Sirius being in danger. His mind retraced its steps quickly, and suddenly he felt it in his hand.

Harry knew exactly what he was looking for. It was as if it was in his hand right now. He felt the weight of it. He knew the look of it. He held it for just a moment when cleaning out the House of Black with the Weasleys before he returned to Hogwarts for his fifth year. He knew the exact location of the hidden Horcrux of Voldemort, because it was in the house that now belonged to him!

Barely able to contain himself after he returned to his normal state, he told Dobby what he just discovered. The elf was excited for him, and he climbed on top of Harry once more. He pointed to the lever that opened the stone door, to which Harry put a quieting charm on so it wouldn’t make any noise. The one thing Harry forgot was the flames. The instant the door started to open, the green flames burst to life, illuminating the next room. Harry quickly rushed out of the room to close the door. He held his breath once more as the light was slowly extinguished. He stood still for a couple minutes, just listening. When no apparent danger presented itself, he lit his wand and started his way up the stairs. He traveled through the basement without incident. Moody’s just overcautious, Harry thought to himself as he reached the top of the staircase.

“It never ceases to amaze me the way you always find yourself in the worst of situations, Potter” said a cold voice from behind him. As Harry whirled around, he heard the command, “Wingardium Leviosa!” being said, lifting the cloak from him. He threw Dobby up into the cloak to hide him just as it was pulled over his head.

“How did you find your way into my house,” demanded Lucius maliciously. Harry thought frantically about what he could do. He couldn’t very well signal for help, as Moody wouldn’t have enough time to get here to help him. Yet he remembered Moody warning him not to duel Lucius. He locked eyes with Lucius as the question was repeated.

“I’m not going to tell you,” said Harry, weighing his options.

“Well, I will tell you that you won’t be getting out! Avada Kedavra!”

Harry dove to the floor, the curse just missing him. He grabbed the robe with the house elf still in it and ran for the door. He tried to remember the way out, but he kept getting himself lost in the corridors. Curses of all colors whizzed past him as he dodged and rolled around the house. Harry finally came to the room he entered from. He shoved Dobby down the tunnel and pulled the plant down just before Lucius turned the corner. The two stared at each other for a time, both out of breath. Harry drew his wand, which was dropped quickly from a burning curse Lucius used on him. Malfoy was the first to speak.

“You’ve caused enough trouble for us. It’s time for you to die, Potter!” he said. Harry had no time to think. He knew he had no hope of blocking the killing curse twice. He only had his instincts. As Lucius shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” once more, Harry grabbed Malfoy’s wand, determined to point it elsewhere. He leaped as far from that corner as he could. He saw a bright flash of green as he fell flat on his face. He got up quickly and stood in the opposite corner of the room, ready for the next attack. But there would be no next attack.

Harry noticed the knight’s suit of armor had a huge dent in its body. His eyes looked down at the body now on the ground: the body of Lucius Malfoy. He walked up to his opponent, whose face still had a look of pure hatred on it. But there was no life in those eyes. He looked at the wand in Malfoy’s hand, and noticed the end where his hand was had snapped in two. The spell had reflected back at Lucius! Harry had no time to be happy about this, however, as the front door was shoved open to reveal Narcissa and Severus, both staring in shock at the scene in front of them.

“You killed my husband!” screamed Narcissa as Snape reached in his robes for his wand. Before either of them could move further, both were sent flying from a bellowed, “Expelliarmus!” from Mad-Eye Moody. He marched into the mansion, grabbed Harry’s robes, and pulled him out. He shut the door and put a lock on it before grabbing Harry again and Apparating the two to safety.

“You didn’t give any signal, Potter! I told you to not duel with Lucius!”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Harry said once they had landed at the gates of Hogwarts. It was now dawn. “He chased me from the basement to the front door!”

“So how did you beat him?” asked Moody.

“I broke his wand, and the curse shot back at him.”

Alastor looked at Harry blankly for a moment before laughing. He stopped for a moment to look at Harry once more before breaking into laughter again. After a few minutes, he wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at him with a grin on his face.

“Somehow I always knew Lucius’ end would come from his own rash attitude. Never expected that, though. So, did you get the Horcrux?”

Harry had forgotten about the Horcrux. He explained the note to Moody as best as he could. Reading the mad look in Alastor’s eyes, he told him of the whereabouts of the last Horcrux.

“It’s safe,” concluded Harry after he finished debriefing to Moody. As he leaned against the wall, he noticed how tired he was.

“We’re not done yet, boy,” said Moody, pulling Harry off the wall. He put his wand in the air and the two were off again. In seconds, Harry fell to the ground for the third time that night. He looked up and noticed they were at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He pulled himself to his feet and the two wizards walked to the front door. Once inside, Harry raced to Kreacher’s old hiding place, digging through the many old pieces of Sirius’ ancestry before finally grasping the locket.

Harry returned downstairs to Moody with the locket in hand. Moody examined the locket for a brief moment before trying to open it. After several attempts, he gave up.

“There must be some sort of curse on this,” he said after thinking on it. “We don’t have time to think about how to destroy this at the moment, Potter. We’ll work on it later. We need to go.”

He walked past the front door and outside. Harry looked around one more time at the surroundings of his Godfather’s old home. He missed Sirius. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he exited Grimmauld Place again. When he did, he saw Moody on the ground, writhing in pain, with a Death Eater’s wand pointed at his chest.

“Give me the locket, Mad-Eye!” commanded the dark voice.

“Expelliarmus!” shouted Harry, and the dark figure went flying across the street. Harry rushed to Alastor’s side and helped him up. Moody took a moment to regain his strength before grabbing Harry roughly and Apparating for the fourth time that night. When the two landed back at the gates of Hogwarts, both collapsed from the evening’s events.

“Well, Potter,” said Moody between breaths, “I’d say you did pretty well for your first time out in the field of battle.”

Harry smiled in response, and helped his professor up to his feet. The two returned to the castle, where Harry returned to Gryffindor tower and fell onto the couch. He looked at the clock before his eyes shut. It was 8:00 in the morning. He was glad to be finally resting.

“Harry,” asked a soft voice as a gentle hand shook him. “How did it go?”

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, who both looked at him in concern. His clothes were torn all over, and he was drenched with sweat. He stood up to start his story, but passed out from exhaustion. It had been a long night.

When Harry revived, he was lying on the couch in the commons room, still in the clothes of the previous night. Ron was on the chair next to him, sleeping, and Hermione was at the table, her legs under a blanket as she studied. She noticed him wake up, and put her pen down. She walked over to Ron and woke him up as well. Both of Harry’s friends walked up to him with the same looks of concern he remembered them having before he passed out. Harry held out his hand; in it, the Horcrux. Both Ron and Hermione smiled before tackling him in a group hug.

“How did you do it?” asked Ron. “I mean, those are supposed to be hard to get, right?”

“As it turns out, I had it the whole time,” Harry replied. When he noticed the shocked looks on both their faces, he told the story of what happened with Dobby and Moody at the Malfoy mansion. As he finished, both friends now had looks of admiration.

“That was risking a lot just for this, Harry,” consoled Hermione. “Don’t get me wrong, though. What you did was brave, and I know it was necessary for the Order. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“So am I,” said Harry. “I’ve never liked duels in the first place, yet they seem to have a way of finding me no matter where I am.”

The three talked some more about the night’s events for a time, but another question led them to a different part of the conversation.

“So where’s the next one?” asked Hermione.

“I don’t know, Hermione,” responded Harry. “Can’t I just enjoy this for a moment and relax after what it took to get this one?”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, holding her hands out in front of her. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant, do you know where it is?”

“No, I don’t. I know what it is, though.” Once more, Harry’s friends had questioning looks on their faces. Harry leaned in towards them, pulling the locket once more from his neck.

“You see this?” he said, pointing to the emblem on the outside of the locket. “That’s the sign of Salazar Slytherin. This locket was his a long time ago. Voldemort wanted it, as he had a fascination with the founders of Hogwarts. Come on, Ron, you’re almost eighteen years old. Grow up a little and get used to that name. Anyway, he went to great lengths to find things they owned, and this is one of them. The second one is a cup that Helga Hufflepuff once had, and the third is the sword of Godric Gryffindor, which is safe in Dumbledore’s office.”

“What about Ravenclaw?” asked Ron, intrigued by the discussion.

“No one knows if Ravenclaw left any possessions behind. Dumbledore didn’t think so, at least.”

“Do you want us to go with you next time?”

“NO!” Harry shouted, his voice echoing throughout the room. “No,” he repeated, softer this time, for he did not intend to shout.

“I don’t want you two to get involved in this. This is my problem and mine alone. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But the Order’s going with you!” argued Ron. “Why can’t we? We’re your friends!”

“Yes, and that’s exactly why I don’t want you to be where I am, in case something should go wrong. I want to be the only one who has to be hurt by this, if it ever comes down to that.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Hermione. Harry hesitated, reliving the memory of the cave he and Dumbledore visited at the end of the previous school year.

“You weren’t there,” he said after a while. He looked at his friends, his eyes starting to tear up. “You didn’t see what Dumbledore had to go through just to get through the defenses Voldemort set up. And even then, it was a fake. I had it the whole time, which means that it’s my fault Dumbledore died.”

“Harry, don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” Harry cried, unable to hold back his emotion. “If I had only known that I had it the whole time, we never would have gone to that cave and he wouldn’t have...”

“But you didn’t know, Harry,” argued Hermione. “Besides, Dumbledore was a powerful, albeit stubborn wizard. He would’ve gone after it anyway, and you know he would have.”

“I still don’t want you two risking your lives for me,” Harry said, wiping away his tears roughly with what remained of his sleeve. “You’re not coming.”

“That sounds so familiar, doesn’t it?” asked another voice. The trio turned to look at its source, and there stood Ginny at the staircase leading to the girls’ dormitory. She had a look of determination on her face as she approached the group. Once she was there, she knelt down, placing her hand on Harry’s shoulder and looked him in the face.

“Harry, I told you before, and I’ll tell you again, you’re not alone in this fight. And we’re not going to let you be alone. Not when you need us the most.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. “We said we’d be with you to the end, and we meant it.”

Harry was grateful for his friends, even when they were arguing with him. He slowly got up and started pacing. It was more of a limp, as his legs were still tired from the running just hours earlier. He searched his mind for some way he could allow his friends to help him without actually having them go with him. After a moment, he spoke.

“Alright, how about this: you three help me find out where the next Horcrux is. That way you are still helping me, and I certainly need as much help on this next one as possible. However, you will not go with me when I leave to find it.”

After several minutes of protests, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron had no choice but to agree with Harry, as he refused to let up. He was so determined to keep his friends safe that he would do whatever he could to make it so. Shortly after reaching this agreement, the four left for bed, where Harry collapsed once again.

---

Three weeks passed with no luck on the location of Hufflepuff’s cup. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all looked through the library on a daily basis, but to no avail. Harry told the Order at an impromptu meeting about the retrieval of the locket and the identity of the next Horcrux he was searching for, but even they were having trouble locating it. After the old lady who owned it last, it had truly vanished.

With it being the middle of October, the fair weather was fading swiftly. Three days after the Order meeting, a second meeting was called, in which Harry and the other Order members learned of another attack on the Muggle Ministry, this time directed at Parliament. Though the building survived the attack long enough for the Aurors to get there, the eastern side had completely caved in from the damage sustained. With this development, things became tense for the rest of the meeting. Harry left feeling overwhelmed once more, and he doubled his efforts in finding the next Horcrux. But no evidence of its continued existence was available in any record or recollection of any place or person.

Moody started using Veritaserum on different people who were linked with it in the past, such as Borgin and Burkes, but nothing turned up other than the sale to Hepzibah. Harry was quickly losing hope. He searched his mind numerous times, reliving the memories he and Dumbledore visited all last year to try and find some clue, but there was nothing he could remember.

The weekend arrived, and the Order was completely at a loss for words. A Hogsmeade trip was to take place on Saturday, and the foursome walked down to see if they couldn’t find anything there. They split up, Hermione going to Honeydukes, Ron going to the Hog’s Head, and Ginny going to the Three Broomsticks. Harry went to Zonko’s. Though the places were a long shot, at this point, they were all Harry could think of where there was a chance to find somebody who knew or worked for Voldemort.

Harry left Zonko’s disappointed. He leaned against the wall facing the main street of Hogsmeade and thought. He thought of the darkest places he’d ever been to. He found a couple he hadn’t checked and, quite frankly, he’d rather not revisit. Ron came back first, leaning on the wall beside Harry. He was silent for a minute before he started talking with more ideas.

“What about the graveyard you were in, Harry?” he suggested. “That might be a place to look.”

“Look for what?” replied Harry. “We can’t ask the bones of the dead Riddles to help us, nor do we know if he buried it. Besides, if the cave was a preview, there’ll be a lot more to go through just to get to the Horcrux, not to mention getting out alive with it in hand.”

“But you got the last one alright.”

“Yeah, but I had Moody with me, and it was also in Sirius’ house, which made it rather easy for me to get it. It’d already been taken. This one isn’t like that.”

“Well,” began Ron, but he stopped and fell silent again. Hermione and Ginny were on their way back when Harry asked what Ron was about to say.

“I was going to say, why not check Diagon Alley, but they’re all closed.”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Harry excitedly.

“What, Diagon Alley?” asked Ron, bewildered.

“No, not Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley! There’s a whole load of dark artifacts and people there, and I’m sure I could find something that would give me some clue.”

Harry noticed Ron looked a bit taken aback by the fact that it was his idea that had spawned Harry to do something, but he didn’t have time to think on it. Harry pulled out his wand, pointed it in the air, and moments later his feet were lifted from the ground. He thought he felt a hand grasp his shoulder, so when he landed in Knockturn Alley, he looked around. There was no one there; it had to have been his imagination. He was sure Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were shocked by how impulsive he was, but after searching endlessly for a month, there wasn’t a risk Harry wouldn’t take to find it.

Not wanting to be noticed, he stopped in a shop nearby and bought a black cloak, so he could hide his face and features. He searched the nearest shops, keeping his hood up and his hand on his wand at all times, which was made inconspicuous with his arms crossed. Harry knew the crowd that was present in this part of the once grand shopping alley, and he was going to follow Moody’s advice now more than ever: constant vigilance. He tried Borgin and Burke’s, but there was nothing there upon inspection. He wasn’t about to outright ask them, but he knew of ways to coax information out of people. That was a trait he and Voldemort had both mastered at a young age in order to get things they wanted. However, Harry had no such luck this time. After searching the stores for any sign of a magical relic of historic importance, he leaned once more on a wall, watching the people who walked by.

Hidden under a cloak of black, Harry watched as a multitude of faces he didn’t recognized walked right past him, completely oblivious to who he was. It was nice, in a dark sort of way, to not be the focus of attention. He waited for over an hour in this spot, checking every face he could see for someone he would recognize, but had no luck. He was about to give up when he noticed an alleyway he hadn’t seen before. He walked towards it, his wand now fully out of its hiding place and hidden in his sleeve with his hand. In this dark street of Knockturn Alley, the shadows seemed to have a mind of their own, whispering to one another and jolting from one location to another. One in particular caught his eye, and it was walking straight for him.

Harry grabbed the figure and shoved him with all his might against the wall, his wand at the man’s neck. In his most foreboding voice, he said harshly, “What are you doing here, Wormtail?”

The man struggled to get away from the wall, but didn’t get very far. Harry tripped him and pounced on him when he was down, which pinned his shoulders to the ground. Whimpering, Wormtail started to beg for mercy from him.

“Please, I haven’t done anything but follow orders. You must understand that the man I work for is very powerful, and if I don’t do as he asks, he’ll kill me. It wasn’t anything personal, I swear.”

Harry now remembered that he still had the hood on, and Wormtail couldn’t see his face. Knowing he had the advantage at the moment, he tried to push his luck, keeping the harshness in his voice.

“So, what have you been getting into lately?”

“I was, err, getting supplies,” stammered Wormtail nervously, not looking away from the shadowed face under the hood.

“I’d recommend not lying to me if you’re hoping to see your master again in any recognizable form, Wormtail,” said Harry, pleased with his disguised voice, in addition to having one of his worst and most hated enemies quivering in fear beneath him.

“I wouldn’t lie to anyone,” said Wormtail, trying once more to wiggle his way out from Harry’s grasp, which gave Harry an idea. He stood up, freeing his adversary. When Wormtail started to get up, he kicked him back down, hurling a curse at him with his now drawn wand. Wormtail recoiled quickly, covering his cheek, which now had a cut the whole length of it. Harry reminded himself to thank Moody for that, as it felt good to finally get some anger out of his system.

“Care to try that answer again?” Harry asked once more, trying to sound even more menacing than before.

“I swear, I was only getting some supplies,” Wormtail squeaked. He covered his face with his hands to avoid any curses that may be sent again, but Harry believed him. He kept his wand pointed at Wormtail, but decided to try asking about the cup.

“Very well,” Harry began. “I need you to be honest with me once more. I’m looking for something, and I need you to lead me to it.”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“A relic of sorts: Helga Hufflepuff’s cup, to be exact.” Wormtail looked as though the life had been completely sucked out of him. His face was completely white and covered in sweat.

“I don’t know where it is,” he said briefly, putting his hands up again. Not hearing the answer he wanted, Harry thought of another idea. He stepped back and looked at Wormtail intensely, thinking the words, Levicorpus! Instantly Wormtail was upside down, shaking even more than before. Harry once more approached him and repeated his demand.

“I can’t tell you where it is,” Wormtail cried. “If I do, he’ll kill me.”

“Voldemort doesn’t need to know about this meeting,” said Harry, dropping the harshness in his voice. He knew Wormtail noticed this, so he pulled his hood back to reveal his face. When Peter Pettigrew saw who it was, he gasped, knowing what Harry would be after.

“You can’t honestly think that I can take you there, Harry. It’s too dangerous, even for you.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’ll be there with me, so if anything bad should happen, it’ll happen to you.”

“And what makes you think I’ll take you there?”

Harry leaned in, his face inches from Wormtail’s, who was still shaking.

“You...owe...me,” he said slowly, knowing that Wormtail knew what he was talking about. With that, he released the Levicorpus spell and turned away, satisfied with the thump he heard behind him. He turned around with another intense look, and Wormtail looked truly afraid. He fell to his knees in front of Harry and begged him to ask anything other than that, but Harry would not accept no for an answer. Instead, he asked where the cup was. After a moment’s hesitation, Wormtail responded.

“It’s in an area far from here, near the mountains. It’s where we meet occasionally.”

“Take me there now,” said Harry, who had lost his patience by now. The feeling of empowerment over his enemy was something he hadn’t experienced before, and he liked the control he had. Wormtail slowly stood and nodded, grabbing his wand. Harry kept his at eye level to his opponent to make sure Wormtail didn’t try any spells on him. Peter pointed his wand up skyward, and Harry grabbed his shoulder. Seconds later, the sweeping sensation came, and seconds after that, they both landed on a cliff. Harry noticed a large forest several hundred meters away, with a mountain range beyond them. He scanned the area for some sign of a building or case, but couldn’t find one.

“Why have you taken us here?” Harry demanded. “There’s nothing here but trees and mountains!”

Wormtail didn’t respond to this. He seemed to be looking for something. He crawled on the ground, searching rocks and logs for something. He finally came to the edge of the cliff, looking over the steep side of it. He slumped back, looking pitifully at Harry. He pointed down below to a group of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, which was at the waterline. Waves pounded the ground with a tremendous force, making the area hard to get to. Harry and Wormtail made their way down the side of the cliff, carefully navigating the rocks and slope, which grew more and more perilous the further they got.

They finally reached the beach of rock. Harry asked what had to be done. Wormtail didn’t answer, but walked forward. He climbed around a large rock, dodging the waves as they came crashing down. A couple hit him, almost dragging him out with them, but he held on. Once on the other side of the huge stone, Harry noticed Wormtail put his finger to his still bleeding cheek and place it on something Harry could not see. He returned a few minutes later along the same dangerous path, pointing upwards. The two climbed the cliff side again. As they reached the top, Wormtail pointed towards the edge of the cliff. Although it was now night, Harry could see a castle was now visible.

“Is that where it is?” Harry asked. Wormtail nodded, exhausted from the climb. Harry pulled him to his feet, saying, “We’re not done yet. Lead the way.”

Wormtail started to argue, but soon walked towards the castle, which was far larger than Harry had expected. When they reached the front gates, Wormtail stopped, not moving. Harry looked curiously at him, wondering what was going on. Just then, a huge barrage of large boulders was cast into the air, hurtling right at them. Harry and Wormtail leapt behind a huge log, watching as the assailants went rolling by. Once the coast was clear, the two proceeded through the gates into the main part of the castle. They stepped up the gravel road leading to the building, Wormtail continually shaking.

“Watch where you’re stepping,” he warned as they walked up the castle stairs towards the front door, which was shut. Harry made his way up the stairs in fine order, as did Wormtail. The door opened without consequence, and the two continued onward. They passed through several corridors before stopping in front of a painting. Wormtail moved aside the canvas and pushed in a stone protruding from the wall, which opened a hidden door. Both he and Harry lit their wands and continued down the path. Once again, Wormtail stopped. This time, though, he backed up a bit, pressing himself to the wall.

“Don’t cast your light over the edge.”

“Why not?” asked Harry.

“You’re better off not doing it. Trust me, Harry.”

“I don’t.”

“In this instance, you must. I owe you a life debt, and I swear I won’t betray that. This way.”

Harry was curious, and he leaned in to see what was scaring Wormtail. When he didn’t see his light anymore on the ground, he realized it was a pit. Before he could see what was at the bottom, however, Wormtail pulled him back, warning him again not to go there. The two grew more wearisome the further they got. Noises without sources started coming from different places. Things would move without warning, startling both of them. Harry looked where they were going and saw something that made him very angry: a wall. This was a dead end.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” Harry bellowed, making Wormtail jump again. He looked at Harry, then back at the dead end. He pointed his wand and said, “Ostendo ianus!” The ground before them disappeared, revealing another tunnel. Wormtail gave Harry an uneasy smile as he led the way once more. The tunnel was so narrow that Harry had to walk directly behind Wormtail just for the two of them to fit. They reached a second dead end. This time, however, Wormtail turned to Harry and gave him a nervous look.

“I can’t get past this one,” he whispered.

“Why can’t you?”

“You see that slab of stone over there?” Wormtail asked, pointing to a flat rock imbedded in the wall. “This door can only be opened by the tears of the one wanting to go in. And as neither of us are crying at the moment...”

“At the moment...my point exactly,” said Harry, delivering a swift kick to Wormtail’s shin. As the older man started hopping on one foot, Harry kicked him again in the other leg. He hit him a third time, this one a punch dead in the nose. Wormtail stopped hopping after a minute or so, put his hand to his now tear-soaked face, and placed it on the slab. Two doors opened, one on either side. Wormtail looked at both, as did Harry, who was waiting for the next move. They took the one to the right, walking slowly into the new room.

It was a long room with nothing in it other than a high ceiling, a table, and some stones. As Wormtail started walking forward, Harry heard a creaking sound. When Wormtail proceeded further into the room, the creaking sound turned into a roar as the wall furthest from him was broken down. Behind it was a troll, who appeared to have just been woken from a long nap. It stood up, glaring at Wormtail and Harry, who were too stunned to move. The troll bellowed and charged at the two intruders at full speed. Wormtail morphed into a rat and ran out of the room, squealing at a high pitch. Harry grabbed the pile of clothes on the floor and headed for the door as well.

By the time he reached it, however, the troll’s club had hit right in his path. Harry’s momentum made him run into it. Wormtail’s clothes went flying out the door, but Harry was forced back into the room. The troll started bashing the club at Harry, who could do nothing but run. Once he had a shot, he shouted, “Petrificus Totalus!” The troll was hit with the spell, but still came after Harry, who next said, “Expelliarmus!” When this did nothing as well, Harry looked at the large stones in the area. He remembered his first year and that troll encounter, so he tried to repeat it. He pointed at the nearest stone and yelled, “Wingardium Leviosa!” The stone lifted, but was then shattered by the now infuriated troll.

Harry was running out of ideas. He ran out of the corner, trying different curses and spells he knew. None of them had any effect on the troll. Harry tried charms as well. These took effect, but not in the way Harry had expected. The now deformed troll marched towards Harry, who was still trying spells to stop it. By that time, however, it was too late. The troll grabbed Harry and lifted him off the ground. He wasn’t able to breathe anymore, as the grip on him was too tight. His enemy lifted his club once more, a glint of accomplishment in its eyes. Just then, Harry heard another curse.

“Crucio!” Wormtail shouted, and Harry was dropped instantly as the creature let him go. He ran out the door, looking back for a moment. The troll was now convulsing in pain on the ground.

“Run through the other door, Harry!”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He ran into the next room, relighting his wand in the process. He looked around at the second room. This one was also long, but had a door at the end of it. Harry started towards it when a hand pulled him back. Wormtail was trying to shut the door, as the troll was charging towards them. Harry hurried to help, and together they sealed off their entryway and exit. Dust flew off the wall when the troll collided with the door, but it held shut.

“Where did you learn to fight?” asked Wormtail. “You’re pitiful! You won’t last a minute against the Dark Lord unless you learn to fight better than that.”

“Why does that concern you?” demanded Harry angrily. “I don’t need to be lectured by you. Besides, Voldemort is a few feet shorter than a troll.”

Wormtail shuttered at the name, but decided not to continue the argument. He walked past Harry and towards the door. Both of them walked gingerly so as not to agitate anything else. When they reached the door, Wormtail said another incantation. The door opened, but that wasn’t all that happened. Several screams were heard from the darkness behind them, and as they turned to see what it was, a wall of hands came after them. Inferi.

Harry and Wormtail were being pulled across the room by an insurmountable force. Curses and charms were of no use here. Harry frantically searched his mind for something to fight them off. Then he remembered what Dumbledore had said in the cave: “Like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness, they fear light and warmth...Fire, Harry.” Harry pointed his wand at the nearest Inferi shouted at the top of his lungs, “Incendio!” The corpse burst into flames, and it spread to the rest of them, creating a scene of anarchy. The Inferi dropped their prisoners, flailing their arms everywhere, their cries filling the air with high-pitched screams that half-deafened Harry. He saw Wormtail lying on the ground. Hurriedly, Harry grabbed his robes and dragged him into the next room, shutting the door behind him.

Harry lit his wand once more stood in a new room. This one was even more foreboding than the rest. Wormtail slowly got back to a vertical base before shaking even more. Harry helped him regain his balance, and the two looked at their surroundings. This room looked like a cave. Several jagged rocks made up the ceiling, which looked as though it had fallen into place and could collapse at any moment. There was a narrow pathway of stone between two pools of some acidy substance. With all this facing them, however, there was something in the air that just didn’t feel right. Wormtail continued to quiver, leading Harry to wonder if he knew something about this feeling. Before he was able to ask the question, though, Wormtail stepped in front of him.

“This is it, Harry,” he said. “This is where our journey ends. I’m afraid the only way we’re going to get out is if we take the alternate route through the next room, which is where the cup rests. It’s in a clear box, but it is unbreakable save for one spell. I’ve gotten you here, Harry, but that’s all I’m able to do.”

“Let’s just finish this and get out of here,” Harry replied. “We’ll talk about what to do with the Horcrux when we’re safe.”

“You know, then? About the rest of them?”

“I know what four of them are. The other two I have no idea.”

“Then maybe you can defeat him after all,” muttered Wormtail. “You’ll need more powerful spells and countercurses to overcome the Dark Lord. There is a book he is searching for that, if you were to get it, would help you out a lot. I’ll admit, I doubted you, Harry, but I see now that you are the Chosen One. Once he finds out what I helped you do, I’ll be dead. But at least I got to see what you became. James would be proud of you, Harry. I know I don’t deserve to speak of him, but I want you to know that I do regret that night more than anything. Don’t ever lose the memory of him, or Lily, as they will give you the strength you need for the final fight.”

Wormtail stood right in front of the door and said, “Comperio!” The door opened slowly. He turned around and looked at Harry with an almost fond smile. Suddenly, as if by an invisible robe, his body was pulled violently off the ground and through an open section of the wall. Harry heard him screaming until the wall closed itself off. Despite trying every spell he knew, the door would not open. Harry found himself upset at how this quest ended, even though at its start he felt hatred towards Wormtail. Although he was a rat of a person, he had definitely redeemed himself in Harry’s eyes.

The now open door made him want to end this. Though he didn’t know what else was in store, Harry walked through the door, careful to avoid any more trappings. Once he had entered the room, several torches lit themselves, illuminating a room with several steps in the middle forming a square leading to a pillar. On the pillar was a clear box, which contained the cup, once owned by Hufflepuff. Harry pulled it off gently before backing away. Upon examination, the cup seemed to be suspended in the middle of the invisible box, held there by an unseen force. Harry looked around. He noticed a passageway on the opposite corner, and started for it. He pulled out his wand and lit the way.

Though the pathway was dreary in appearance, there was no activity whatsoever. It made Harry feel almost at ease. The corridor led to a huge room well over a hundred meters high and many more long. Harry looked up and noticed that there was a staircase that led to where Wormtail had told him not to shine light on. He still wondered why Peter had told him that. He looked in front of him, but couldn’t see anything threatening. He whispered, “Lumos Maxima!” The room filled with light, and Harry instantly regretted this last decision. At the opposite end of the room were several giants, who seemed to have gleams of deep hatred in their eyes. They stood still for a moment, as if to see who had arrived. Not recognizing Harry, they charged at full speed, causing the ground to shake.

Harry ran for the stairs, taking them five at a time. He had a long way to go, however. The first giant leaped for him and narrowly missed. The second brought his fists down on the stairs, destroying them. Luckily for Harry, he was a few steps ahead. By the time the rest of the group had reached the staircase, Harry was at the top and running for the door. He heard the shuffling of feet as he ran, but did not looking back. He ran through the entrance of the secret passage through the corridors of the castle. He flew down the stairs outside the front door, and almost regretted that as well.

After the first step on the stairs, they started moving. By the second and third steps, there was a gap in the middle of the now separated staircase with a pit of spikes at the bottom. Harry dove for the other side, barely reaching it. He continued to run through the front gate and out into the field. He turned around and, to his horror, saw eleven giants running straight for him. Harry knew he couldn’t outrun them. He was already out of breath, but he kept running. When he felt he couldn’t run any longer, he felt a hand grab him on his shoulder. Shortly after, he felt his feet leave the ground as his surroundings swirled in front of him. Seconds later, his feet reconnected with the ground and he fell to the ground, exhausted and breathless.

As Harry turned over onto his back, he noticed a figure was taking off an Invisibility cloak. It was William Garrison! The professor pulled out his wand and lifted Harry off the ground with a spell. He was levitated to a separate room, where the lights were turned on and the door shut and locked. Garrison turned around, grabbed a stool, and sat next to Harry, who now was lying on a bed. Once Harry regained his bearings, he looked at his professor, who had a stern look on his face.

“Did you somehow miss something when we told you not to go on any missions without someone from the Order with you?” When Harry didn’t answer, Garrison continued.

“You didn’t even have a way of escape. You were hoping to outrun a group of giants in their own region of the world on foot after running from them earlier. I don’t even know what happened inside that castle, but I’ll be finding out shortly. What the hell were you thinking, Potter?”

“I was with Wormtail,” Harry stammered out.

“I know full well who you were with,” said Garrison in a harsh voice. “If it weren’t for that idiot, you wouldn’t have that scar. You would still have parents and a family. Why do you continually take that for granted? That’s something I never did.”

Harry looked at his professor, who now looked at him with a pained expression on his face. Out of all his teachers, Garrison was the one Harry couldn’t figure out.

“My parents were murdered in front of me, Harry. I grew up learning the darker side of magic. I met Voldemort in school, back when he was Tom Riddle.” If Harry couldn’t speak before for lack of breath, he certainly had the problem now.

“But witnessing the taking of a life changes a man,” Garrison continued. “When that curse was said, and those eyes became lifeless, I just couldn’t believe it. I knew he was powerful, but no one has the right to take a life. Then I saw him grab a locket and placed it on top of the body. He did some sort of incantation, doing magic the likes of which I’ve never seen before. He started glowing orange. Then he screamed as the orange silhouette was pulled from his body and put into the locket, which then closed. He locked it and placed a spell on it before looking at me. I didn’t know what to say, and the next day I ran from him. If I hadn’t’ve run into Sirius and James, I wouldn’t be here.”

Harry was more shocked than he had ever been in his life. Here was a man who he felt very uneasy about, yet who knew his father and his greatest enemy. He couldn’t think. He just lay there, transfixed by the story.

“They were kind enough to allow me membership to the Order of the Phoenix shortly thereafter. A year later, they were gone. You were what they left behind. I vowed to protect you at whatever cost, should the day come that you would be in danger, and to that vow I will keep true. But under no circumstances are you to do what you did today, is that clear, Potter?”

Harry could only nod. He had so many questions that he wanted the answers to, but he wasn’t sure how to ask them.

“I know you have questions, but there’ll be another time for that later. Right now, we need to get you to Hogwarts.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Harry asked, breaking his silence.

“I felt you needed to know what you’re up against and who’s on your side. I’m no push over, Potter, and I will do what I can to help you, but you cannot do this on your own. Perhaps today proved that to you. I also wanted to warn you about something.”

“What’s that?”

“Your anger.” When Harry looked questioningly at his professor, Garrison continued.

“I saw what you did to Wormtail in the alleyway. That’s how it starts, Potter. You feel more confident by having power over someone. Then the power’s not enough. Soon you have to instill fear to have more power. That leads down a path darker than you could ever imagine. Take it from someone who knows from experience. That’s enough for today, however. Let’s get you back to Hogwarts. Here, drink this.”

Harry was handed a vile and drank the contents. He passed out after a few seconds. When he woke up, he was in the hospital wing surrounded by the members of the Order. Their faces were hard to read. Some looked upset. Others looked relieved. Still others looked disappointed. Harry knew he was in trouble.

“While your actions were rather rash, Mr. Potter,” started Minerva, “we’ll discuss them later. What’s important is that you were able to attain the second Horcrux.”

“And in the process,” continued Remus, “you proved yourself to be a worthy opponent for any Death Eater by going in there and coming out alive.”

“But if you ever do it again,” Moody growled, “you may not be as lucky.”

“In any case,” Minerva picked up where she left off, “you’ve gotten us the next part of this puzzle. Get some rest, Potter. You’ve got some explaining to do, but that will come later. For the time being, I’ll say this. Fifty points goes to Gryffindor for your efforts.” Harry smiled at this, as he wasn’t expecting to be rewarded. “And a week’s worth of detentions with me.” The smile was erased after that.

The Order left shortly after, true to their word. There would be a lot of questions to be answered, but Harry wanted to rest. These missions took almost everything out of him, and each one was getting worse. He dreaded the next two, whatever they may be. Madam Pomfrey came in with a potion that knocked Harry out for the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep, where he was able to rest for the remainder of the weekend.

---

By Sunday evening, Harry was allowed to leave. After being kept isolated in the hospital wing for more than twenty-four hours, he was anxious to get free of it. He walked down the corridors of the castle towards Gryffindor tower, still physically tired from his excursion earlier. When he got there, it was bare, as it usually was. He’d just spent many hours lying in bed, and he preferred to not go back to a bed at the moment. Just then, he thought of an idea. The weather was still good; why shouldn’t he take his Firebolt out and have a go for a while.

He headed towards the stairs when he was tackled by a red-haired girl in red and black robes.

“Thank goodness you’re alright,” Ginny exclaimed, her arms wrapped tightly around Harry.

“Of course I’m alright,” Harry replied, smiling. “You didn’t expect to get rid of me that easily did you?”

Ginny pulled back a little, keeping her arms around Harry but looking at him face to face.

“I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, Harry. You took off without even telling us where you were going. When Ron said you were headed off to Knockturn Alley, we were all scared for you. Then we heard that you had to be carried back by Professor Garrison, and you were kept in the hospital wing. What was I supposed to think?”

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before pulling him into another hug. Although it felt good to be in her arms again, the thought of what the dangers still in store for him made him cut the embrace short. Hermione and Ron were on their way down the stairs at that moment, so Harry was saved a potentially embarrassing predicament. The three wanted to hear what happened, as with the last one. Harry sat down, and, like a month ago, went over the details. He made it a point to emphasize how much of a role Wormtail had, and the fact that he was now dead.

“That’s why I don’t want you going with me. I didn’t even see that coming, and now he’s gone.”

“But why do you sound upset about it, Harry?” asked Ron. “We had to keep you away from him a few years ago when you found out it was Wormtail who betrayed your parents.”

“I know that. And I’m not sure why I feel this way. I guess I had a change of heart in that castle. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Well, that’s two down, right?” asked Hermione. “That means you have two more. Any idea what they are?”

“I’ve got an idea about one of them, but I’m not sure how to get to it. The other, well...”

Harry’s gaze drifted to the ground and he grew silent. It was obvious he was worried. But there was something else worrying him.

“I feel sort of helpless, though. I mean, I have an idea about the next one, but not a clue as to the last one. And I don’t know how to destroy them. Dumbledore did, but he wasn’t able to tell me before he died.”

Harry felt himself getting choked up again at the memories. He suddenly felt very lonely and lost. Ginny sensed he was getting upset and put her arm around him, pulling him close as the other two patted him on the back. He was grateful for his friends. At this time in his life, they were his only family, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give to keep things the way they were.

A few hours later, Harry was, once more, in bed. As he slept, he saw himself sitting in a room. He couldn’t see the occupants of the room, but he knew they were beneath him in status. They feared him and his power, and that was all that mattered at the moment. He turned and looked at a shadow next to him, giving it instructions.

“The last time it was opened, things went a little soar. The lake should still lead into the castle, though. Go there and keep an eye on things for me. I trust no one but you with this assignment. Report to me on the doings there as soon as something of relevance turns up. Leave me.”

The shadow seemed to shrink to the ground before disappearing. Harry looked around at the other shadow in the room.

“So it’s true that Wormtail is dead?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Do you have any idea how it happened?”

“No, my Lord. All we know is that he ran off with a stranger in black robes and wasn’t seen after that.”

“Well, it’s about time that stunted waste of a man met his end. If it wasn’t for the man in black robes, I would’ve done the honors myself in due time. Perhaps I’ll look into who he is and send out an invitation for him to join me. But I digress. Snape, you have an assignment to do. The update was appreciated, but you deviated from the plan. Don’t make that mistake again.”

The shadow bowed silently and faded away. Harry sat there for a moment in a dark solitude. He thought of how powerful he had become and how little was left to do. The Muggles were running scared, as were the wizards. Those idiots at the Ministry of Magic would be begging for mercy in no time, and Harry Potter would be on his knees in pain before his last breath was forced from his body. He started laughing maniacally, knowing there was no way a boy of seventeen could stand a chance against Lord Voldemort!

Harry awoke screaming, feeling a pain he had not felt in years. His scar burned and his body was covered in sweat. Ron was at his side, looking concerned.

“You alright, mate? Have another dream about the end of the world?”

“No, this one was like the ones I used to have a couple years ago. I was Voldemort, and I was telling a spy to go to a castle. I think...I think the spy was supposed to come here. He also knows that Wormtail is dead. One of his Death Eaters told him.”

“Does he know about the Horcrux?”

Harry thought about this question for a time, retracing the remnants of the now fading dream in his mind several times before answering, “I don’t think so.”

The two exchanged nervous looks as they returned to bed. While it was still a long way off, Harry wanted a break. This was just too stressful.

More than once, Harry told the story of the castle and his collection of the second Horcrux to several different audiences. And more than once, Harry was reminded of the fact that he had no knowledge on how to destroy them. For all he knew, the Death Eaters could be devising a way to retrieve them, and if they weren’t destroyed, they would be easy to reacquire. Additionally, the last vision of Voldemort had Harry anxious, and rightly so.

A comforting thing happened as a sort of aftermath of the events at the castle, however; Ginny had stopped being reclusive and started spending more time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, which made Harry both a great deal happier and a little uneasy. He still wanted to keep her away for her own safety, but having her near him again was soothing.

The Order of the Phoenix met now twice a week, discussing more and more problems that aroused around the nation, which was now gripped in terror. Death Eaters had now been seen by thousands of Muggles and their attacks weren’t restricted to the time of night any longer. The only obvious conclusion was that their numbers were growing. Each of these meetings discussed the Horcruxes further. Many tried to destroy them during the meetings, their spells reflecting off the powerful objects without adding so much as a scratch. Harry had to dodge several spells that were reflected back at him. Slughorn tried a few potions that were known for dissolving things, but to no avail. Every attempt put more and more doubt in Harry’s mind. How could he stand up to someone whose magic was so far beyond what he barely understood?

After the meetings, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron would immediately ask him for any developments, which would make Harry relive the dreary moments again. He stopped sleeping after a while; there was too much on his mind for sleep. This had an effect on his grades, and his teachers took notice. Professor McGonagall asked him to stay after class one day. Harry, assuming it was about another Order meeting, slowly walked up to her desk.

“I’ve noticed your performance in class has been less than favorable lately, Mr. Potter,” she began. “Is something the matter?”

Harry didn’t answer. He just slumped in the desk nearest hers and looked around the room.

“I know you must be under a lot of stress, with both school and the Order weighing you down, but that doesn’t mean you have to slack off in your classes. Remember what I said at the Burrow over the summer: under no circumstances are your grades at Hogwarts to be affected by what happens outside the �“”

“Outside the school,” Harry interrupted sarcastically, standing up. “Look, Professor, I haven’t slept in three days. I can’t stop worrying about these Horcruxes.”

“Harry, don’t talk about this aloud.” Harry ignored her and continued to vent his frustrations.

“Every meeting we have, you put more and more pressure on me, and I feel less hopeful of even doing a little bit of damage against Voldemort after each one. I mean, at least give me a break! I know I’m the ‘Chosen One’ and ‘the Boy Who Lived,’ but doesn’t anyone know that I want to live a normal life? Even for a moment!”

Once he was finished, he slumped back in his seat and waited for his detention. He knew he wasn’t supposed to yell at a teacher, but he couldn’t help himself this time. He didn’t see Professor McGonagall’s face turn from shocked to sympathetic.

“Come with me to my office, Potter,” she said, and briskly walked out of the room. Unsure of what was to come, Harry wearily followed her. They walked through the corridors of the school until they were right outside a statue of a gargoyle. Minerva said the password and the gargoyle leapt out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase. The two walked into the office of the Headmistress and took their seats at her desk. She looked at Harry for a moment before speaking again.

“I know what it’s like to have too much on your mind, Harry,” she said with concern in her voice. “That’s when it helps to use a bit of magic. Do you know what a Pensieve is?”

Harry looked up at her with surprise. He knew exactly what it was, and had a feeling he was about to have a lesson on it.

“Judging from your reaction, I would assume yes. Most wizards have them, Harry. They are for looking at your memories in a different way, as I’m sure you’ve discovered by now. Professor Dumbledore had one, as do many professors. I think, with as much as you’re having to deal with, and with the knowledge of your lack of sleep, I’d say it’s about time you were given one. You must keep it safe, so I’ll keep it here. You can keep these vials in case you need to put one away, and later, you can add it to the rest when you are in this office.”

She handed Harry a few vials and beckoned him to follow her. He saw, after taking the few steps to the closet, that there was an empty stone basin with his name engraved in the side. He eagerly approached it, looking at Minerva for the explanation of its usage. She smiled at him and proceeded to explain the purpose for it and to choose carefully which memories to put in it, as those were memories that could be seen by anyone who peered into it. She demonstrated how to use the Pensieve by pulling out a pale silver stone basin of her own and taking out a memory.
Harry tried a few times, and was able to do it rather quickly. Minerva seemed a bit taken aback by how many times Harry’s wand returned to his temple with another memory. Harry was very anxious to get as many of these worries out of his head as possible. Minerva warned him that the memories were still in his head, but this just allowed him to sort through the information at a distance rather than experiencing it. After a time, Harry left the office and went back to Gryffindor tower. It was dark already, and he started to feel himself grow very tired. As soon as he reached his bed, he was out.

---

When Harry woke up, he felt well rested. His mind seemed unrestrained for the first time in months, and he was glad for it. Looking out the window, he saw it was a beautiful day. He got out of bed and dressed quickly. This was a day to spend outdoors. It was the weekend, after all.

He found Ron and Hermione talking by the fireplace, and an idea came to him. He returned to his bed and grabbed his Firebolt and his Invisibility cloak and put it on. He carried the broom with his free hand and quietly passed his two friends. He wanted this day to himself. He could think about whatever he wanted. He could daydream. He could fly!

Seamus was walking through the portrait door, so he slipped past him and quietly waited for the door to close before walking down the hall. Harry loved the feeling of being invisible as he passed his classmates in the hallways. When he was by the castle doors, he took off the cloak and walked out into the sunlight. The day looked beautiful as the sun caressed his face. The soft breeze was calming as Harry walked further out into the grounds. Putting his cloak behind a bush, he grabbed the broom and shoved off the ground hard. Once he was in the air, he was free. He noticed someone waving at him and he waved back. It was Ginny, who was out with her friends. He flew overhead, doing a few tricks in the air, ending with a back flip off the broom and landing back on it before zooming off.

After several minutes of just flying around, Harry noticed smoke coming from Hagrid’s hut, and flew in to visit his old friend. Hagrid came out just in time to see Harry flying by and waved.

“Well, ‘ello there, Harry! Ain’ seen yeh ‘round here ‘n a while.”

“I’ve had some things on my mind,” replied Harry.

“Can’ disagree wit’ that. With the Order an’ all, it’s a wonder yeh’re still in as good a shape as yeh are. So, wha’ brings yeh to my door today?”

“I thought I’d catch up a little bit. It’s been a while since we’ve had our talks, Hagrid, and I found myself missing them. It was you, after all, who introduced me to this mess.”

Hagrid grinned sheepishly at this last bit of sarcasm and the two shared a laugh.

“C’mon in, then,” said Hagrid. “I’ll tell yeh all ‘bout Grawp an’ wha’s been goin’ on wit’ the third years. Yeh can visit Witherwings, too. I collected him from yehr place not too long ago.”

The two went inside and talked for a couple hours. Harry talked about his worries, and Hagrid sympathized. It was as old times, and Harry found himself remembering the better times of his past for a change. After their conversation, Hagrid excused himself, needing to care for some of the new batch of gruesome creatures he now had. Harry kicked off the ground again with his broom and soared back into the air. Today was a good day.

The school looked so peaceful on this day, and the wind in his face was all Harry wanted to feel at the moment. He closed his eyes, loving the feeling of not having a worry in the world for just a moment. He opened his eyes to realize he was just a few seconds from running straight into the Astronomy tower. He froze as dozens of images and memories flooded the forefront of his memory, pulling up only inches away from the tower. He no longer felt relaxed. His worries came rushing back to him, and there was only one place he knew where he could go to find some form of solitude. He flew hard, as if time was a concern, towards the White Tomb.

When he landed, Harry tossed his broom to the ground, walking briskly to the stone walls. He dropped to his knees in front of them, his eyes tearing up both from the harsh wind that had shot at them from the fast flying and the memories of his fallen Headmaster and friend.

“Why did it have to be you?” he asked the tomb in a sob. “I need your guidance so much right now. You could have fought them, like you told me to do. You could have asked for my help! But you’re gone. You’re gone. And I’m still here. With the odds against me as they are, I’ll probably be with you shortly.” Harry paused for a moment, overcome with sadness as the image of Dumbledore lying at the base of the Astronomy tower made itself known in his mind, burning its grave silhouette in the back of Harry’s eyes.

“You knew what I had to do, and how to do it. He feared you, but he hunts me. And I don’t know how to beat him. You showed me the path, but not how to go down it. And why did you have to trust Snape? Why?” Not getting an answer for obvious reasons, Harry stood up rather suddenly and kicked the wall in front of him.

“WHY? Why did you not stop Snape? This could have all been avoided if you had just listened to me.” Dropping to his knees, he added through his tears, “I wish you would just come back. Just once, so you could tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

Sobbing vehemently, Harry didn’t see the shadow that was flying in his direction. He didn’t hear the creature’s cry echo off the castle walls and pierce the stillness of the tomb. He couldn’t feel the almost impossible smile the walls were directing at him as the creature cried again. Harry looked skyward at the figure flying towards him and landing at his feet. There, now perched on the ground next to him, was a phoenix. But not just any phoenix: this was Faukes.

Harry reached down and embraced the bird, who squawked its joy in his ear. When he released Faukes, he wondered why the phoenix had come back. Then he noticed a pair of scrolls next to him. Harry grabbed the nearest one, which was wrapped in cloth. He unraveled it, and recognized the hand-writing immediately. It was from Dumbledore!

Dear Harry,

I fear that you’re reading this under the gravest of circumstances, as the only time you are to receive this letter is in the event of my death. I can’t imagine the sorrow you must feel of losing another close friend, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay with you any longer than the time that was given to us. These events do not happen according to our timing, I’m afraid, and I’m aware that the arrival of this must come at a rather desperate moment.

The last time we met before this letter was written was shortly before we left for the cave at the end of your Sixth year at Hogwarts. I do not know what will happen in that cave, only that what you experience in it will be a preview as to what will happen on the path that has been unfortunately laid before you. Do not lose hope on account of my absence. There is much to be done, and time, as aforementioned, is not on our side at the moment.

No doubt Minerva has taken over Hogwarts, as that was my wish should my time be cut short. The Order of the Phoenix needs you, and I have a feeling you are already an integral part of it by now. It is also without a doubt that you are burdened with the worries no man should have to face alone. But you are a man now, Harry, and you have grown so much in front of my eyes. It has been such a pleasure knowing and teaching you these past years. Some of the best and most rewarding of my life.

Surely you remember the Horcruxes we discussed. I do not know the location of these, so that is something you will have to discover for yourself. However, I do believe that I was right in thinking the three items we discussed in our lessons together are them. These are dangerous to attain, Harry, and even more difficult to destroy, as I’m sure you will find out. Therefore, my last lesson to you will be the destruction of these Horcruxes. Then I’m afraid our time must come to a complete close. But fear not. Now for the lesson.

You recall the ring and my injured hand, I imagine. The story behind that, though not done justice in this letter, should help you with the destruction of at least two of the three Horcruxes we hypothesized together. I returned to the House of Gaunt to see if I was correct in thinking that Voldemort was using Horcruxes. I looked all over the place for something that would be of value to him. After using several sophisticated spells, the likes of which were created by myself, and I am rather proud of them, I ascertained the location of the ring. Knowing what it was from the memories of Gaunt, I examined it.

I’m not sure if you have found the next Horcrux or not, and if so, whether or not you or the Order have tried to destroy it. When that day comes, I’m sure you’ll discover it is impervious to all magical and physical attacks. I learned this quickly, and sought a different way of destroying it. After several failed attempts, I found the solution.

Not sure of the results, I put on the ring. I felt myself instantly become weaker. I knew exactly what was happening: quite simply put, it was a spell that takes away energy, and, if prolonged, life. I would imagine this to be the effect most, if not all, of Voldemort’s Horcruxes have, so be careful. A series of spells must occur, the timing and placement of both the spell and movement of the wand must be precisely accurate. These are listed in the second scroll, which should be with this one. By doing these spells, the ring started glowing orange. After sending several rather unpleasant chills down my body, a figure of Voldemort started to appear next to me. This I thought to be the end of the Horcrux, but it wasn’t. Still wearing the ring, the figure attacked me.

Dueling someone who’s not wholly in front of you is a peculiar thing, but it is necessary to destroy the part of the soul encased in the Horcrux. The spells and wand movements on the second scroll are just to get the soul fragment out of the apparatus. The consequential duel shouldn’t be too terribly difficult. The spell to use against it is also on the second scroll. The ending is rather enjoyable to watch, I must admit. However, there is an after-effect to its destruction, which I did not see. By keeping the ring on, my hand was poisoned. There is no magic to stop this sort of poisoning; only potions. Therefore, I had to rush back to Hogwarts. Thanks to Professor Snape’s assistance, I was healed, and the only thing lost was my hand, which still functioned, albeit painfully and not terribly well. While on the subject, I know you do not trust Snape. Perhaps you have better reason that I as to his true nature. But everyone makes mistakes. I have a feeling I am right on this, however, though I imagine on this issue, we will never see eye to eye.

It is at this juncture that I must allow our relationship to end, Harry Potter. Hard though it may be in saying good-bye, to hold on to the past is even more destructive to the soul than any spell a wizard can devise. You were able to let go of Sirius with time, and that was wise of you. Miss and respect those whose time has come, but don’t hold on. I’ve never been prouder of any student in all my long years of teaching than I am of you and what you have become, Harry. Though you still have much to learn, and I am not there to teach you anything more than what is enclosed in the accompanying scroll, I know you will find the way.

You remember what I said about destroying Voldemort, right? The way to the light at the end of this dark path is love. You once argued with me that the ability to love is not of importance, but through research, I discovered a spell that can only be performed by love, and that is what you must accomplish. It is only a legend, and I may be wrong on it, but see what you can find by researching the Silhouette of Eternal Benevolence. I will not reveal what it is to you; only that it may be a tool which you can use when you face Voldemort. You will succeed in this task, Harry, so have faith. Do not morn for me, as I’m sure you’ll be fine without me. I felt, though, that a proper exeunt would be sufficed in our relationship. With that being said, I bid you adieu, and wish you the greatest wishes on your life before and after your confrontation with Voldemort. Always look to the light, and ignore the dark, Harry. You can do this, and always remember you are not alone.

With humble regards,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of his emotions after reading the letter. He sat on the ground and thought about what was just told to him. He wanted to cry out of sadness for missing Dumbledore, as well as out of happiness that he finally had the solution to destroying the Horcruxes. He wanted to thank Dumbledore for helping him one last time, but knew he couldn’t. He also wondered if he should tell anyone about this letter. At that moment, Faukes affectionately pecked at Harry’s shoulder, pushing the second scroll with his foot. Harry opened it and looked it over. It was very complex magic, making him wonder why Dumbledore said it wasn’t ‘too terribly difficult.’

Overjoyed, he quickly grabbed the scrolls and started for his broom. Once he got to it, he set the scrolls down and turned to look at Faukes, who had followed him. He reached down and embraced the phoenix for what felt like the last time, as this was a time for good-byes.

“Good-bye, my old friend,” said Harry, gently setting the phoenix down. “Thank you for the news you brought today, and for watching over me all these years. I’ll miss you.”

A tear fell from the phoenix’ face as it turned and spread its magnificent wings and took off. Harry secured the scrolls to his broom and kicked off seconds later. The two flew around one another, almost as in a dance, Faukes singing a beautiful song of jubilant finality. After a moment, the phoenix landed on Harry’s broom, gave him a wink, and took off for the horizon from whence it came, still singing.

Harry felt a relief he hadn’t ever known before as he came swooping down to the main doors of the castle. He flew right through them and through the hallways with a broad smile on his face. Several students cheered as he swept through the corridors at high speed. He thought he heard Filch yelling behind him, but he didn’t care. He soared up the shifting staircase to the portrait guarding the entrance to Gryffindor tower and stopped so suddenly he fell off his broom. The portrait was broken at an unusual angle and didn’t cover the entrance at all. What’s more, the lady on the canvas was distraught.

“Harry, thank goodness you’re here!” she exclaimed, her hands quite lively. “A couple Slytherins came through here and almost ripped me from the wall. One had a rather greasy look about him, and looked older than the other. They dragged a red-headed student from here. I couldn’t see where they’d gone. You’ve got to do something!”

Harry didn’t need any more explanation: Malfoy. He ran full speed into the commons room, finding Ron in the middle of the floor, doubled over in pain. Hermione was against the wall, her robes torn. He ran to them. Hermione was alright, just unconscious. A horrible fear began to grow in his head as he went to check on Ron. Through Ron’s sputtering, his fear was realized.

Ginny.

He got back on the broom and shot through the window, breaking the glass that covered it. He was cut in several places, his forehead included, but he ignored the blood. He was racing against time. Scanning the surroundings, he couldn’t see her. He flew frantically over the grounds, searching everywhere. The Quidditch grounds. The lake. The field where the third task during his fourth year was held. There was no sign of her or Malfoy. He stopped in midair, thinking of where to check next. That’s when he heard a scream. Following the source of the voice, he flew in that direction, the wind shrieking loudly past his ears.

As soon as he saw a couple figures, he dove. He’d done several dives before, but this was different. The closer he got, he soon realized that he couldn’t fly directly at Malfoy, as he had Ginny by the hair and his wand pointed at her face. He also wore a cruel smile. Harry didn’t have time to dodge them and land safely, so he pulled hard to his right and crashed, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
“Nice landing, Potter,” sneered Draco. “I thought you were the best at Hogwarts. Oh, I found some things of yours you might want back. Not that you’ll be getting them back, of course, but I thought I’d be nice to see your face as they’re taken from you.”

“If you hurt her, Malfoy...”

“This is your girlfriend, isn’t it? This disgrace to the wizarding world! I’m doing you a favor, Potter. No, I would stay where you are. No need to get any closer.”

Harry had started to approach the pair with eyes of fury, his wand at the ready. Draco matched his furious stare with one of his own.

“I still owe you one for my father, or did you forget that?”

Draco threw Ginny to the ground, causing Harry to run at him. Malfoy put his wand to her head and shook his finger. Harry reluctantly stopped.

“Oh, I love the control! I wish I would’ve done this a long time ago! Now watch carefully as I take the life of this pathetic blood-traitor in front of you, without you being able to do a thing.”

As Draco pulled his wand back, Harry thought of what to do. He searched his mind quickly, trying to find a spell that would work. He couldn’t do any disarming spells or attack spells, as there was a chance he would hit Ginny. Finally, one came to him. He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was worth a shot. Draco kept his hateful eyes directed at Ginny.

“Avada Ke �“”

“Accio Ginny!” shouted Harry. Right as a green spark came shooting out of Draco’s wand, Ginny flew right into Harry’s arms. With the speed she was flying, she knocked Harry over when he caught her. He quickly rolled over, got up, and pulled his wand back out, ready to kill his opponent. Then he saw the ‘other’ objects Malfoy had talked about.

“You want her so bad, you can have her,” shouted Draco. “I got what I came for.” With that, he pulled out from behind his robes a locket and box with a cup visible from the outside. Harry almost dropped his wand in desperation. Would this chase ever end?

“If you want these so badly, why don’t you come and get them?” challenged Draco. Harry took a step, but it wasn’t in the intended direction. He turned and saw Ginny had his other hand and was pulling him back. He heard Malfoy laugh as she pleaded with her eyes for him to walk away with her. He shook his head and pulled away, turning once more to Malfoy.

The two combatants had every intention of ending this conflict on the ground on which they stood. After more than six years, both were glad to see this moment had at last finally come. Harry and Malfoy stood about ten feet from one another, wands at the ready. Bowing to signify the duel had begun, they got into position. Malfoy was the first to speak, but he was cut off. Out of nowhere, a loud pop was heard and Severus Snape appeared next to Malfoy, grabbing his arm after seeing what was about to happen.

“You know better, Draco,” he warned as he shot an angry look at Harry. Harry shouted a curse at Snape, who blocked it with ease. The next thing Harry knew, he was upside down, courtesy of the curse Snape invented.

“Oh, how lucky you are that the Dark Lord wants to kill you himself. Otherwise, you’d be dead by now, as would your detestable girlfriend. But there’s nothing that stops be from having a little fun with you, now that we have the Horcruxes back.”

Before he could protest, he felt his tongue hit the top of his mouth. This was another spell that he didn’t see coming.

“It’s rude to insult guests, Potter,” said Snape with an evil smile. “Allow me to teach you some manners. Draco, gather the Horcruxes and get out of here. I’ll take care of Potter.”

“I want Potter!” argued Malfoy. When Snape turned around and looked at him, Draco seemingly lost his nerve and went for the Horcruxes.

“Not so fast, lad!” shouted another voice. From under an Invisibility cloak, Mad-Eye Moody made his presence known, standing right next to the Horcruxes. “I don’t think you want to be touching those!”

Draco stumbled back, stunned.

“You’ll be wanting to put Potter down, Snape,” Moody said threateningly. “I’d say let’s find out which serves his ideals better and leave our students out of this.”

“As you wish,” Snape sneered, letting Harry land on his head. Harry got up and was ready to go after Snape behind his back when Ginny grabbed him and pulled him to the ground with her.

“This is their fight, Harry,” she whispered fiercely in his ear, once more having a pleading look in her eyes. Harry finally stopped struggling and focused his attention on the duel now unfolding, Ginny’s arms still holding him tightly.

The two men stood face to face, bowing low, yet keeping constant eye contact. The tension between the two was very evident.

“I still can’t see what Dumbledore saw in you that made him trust you to his death,” said Moody, straightening.

“Well,” replied Snape, “perhaps you should try getting hit a few more times in the head before you discover it. You seem a bit worse for wear since our last meeting.”

“A few friends of yours decided to pay a visit to the Muggle Minister, and I was the one to crash the party. It seems you all are having a bit too much fun at others’ expense.”

“It is regrettable that not all are able to enjoy the coming of the new era, but there are always places for those people,” Snape said while getting into a stance, wand at the ready.

“So we do agree on something,” was Moody’s response. The two stood at a standstill for a moment before acting. Harry had not seen Moody duel, but he knew he was one of the best. He also knew from experience how effective Snape was as a duelist. Before the blink of an eye, both men moved, throwing and countering the first curses. The next couple had similar results.

“You haven’t lost your touch, Moody. It would seem that the Order had some logic for bringing your retired hide out of reclusion. Crucio!”

Moody dropped quickly, hit with the brunt of the curse. While writing in pain on the ground, he looked at his adversary eye to eye. Blood started trickling down Snape’s face, but he held on to the Cruciatus curse a moment longer. Both men lifted their curses simultaneously, taking a moment to recover. By the time Moody was standing, however, Snape shouted, “Expelliarmus!” which sent him back a few feet. Moody stood once more and responded with a curse Harry hadn’t seen or heard yet. Snape blocked it and returned with another curse, which was also blocked. The two combatants stood at a standstill once more.

“So what were you planning on doing with these things, Snape?” spat out Moody.

“Oh, I had my plans for them, rest assured. After all, the Dark Lord has other things to worry about than his precious Horcruxes. We Death Eaters keep an eye out for them while keeping his attention elsewhere, so in the instance that one of them is taken, we can retrieve it without his knowing.”

“How admirable of you,” said Mad-Eye, “and cowardly.” Snape fell to the ground, hit by an inaudible curse. He retaliated with another, which Moody blocked. Mad-Eye had the upper hand now.

“There is no way you can block a curse you don’t know, Snape. You should remember that. And you should also remember that there aren’t many curses I don’t know. That one didn’t work. Nor did that one.”

Snape was holding his arm as though it were on fire. Moody didn’t lose eye contact with the limb, and Severus was on his knees in pain. Harry saw Malfoy grab his wand and aim it at Moody. He thought quickly, Levi corpus! and watched as Draco was inverted. He looked back when he heard Snape shout out, “Reducto!”

Moody’s wooden claw of a leg went flying back several feet and Mad-Eye fell to the ground. Snape stood up shaking his arm, a visible burn on it. The two stared each other down before Snape’s robes were split in two. His face started bleeding in several areas, and patches of his hair fell out. The scene was grotesque as Snape backed up, screaming. Mad-Eye regained his footing, leaning on another rock on the mountainside. He had a crooked smile on his face as he hopped towards his opponent.

“Like that one did you?” he asked sarcastically. “That’s one I made up myself.”

“I’m so exhilarated,” gasped Snape. “See if you like this one from me. Sectumsempra!”

“Moody, watch out!” shouted Harry, but it was too late. Blood came from everywhere as Moody fell to the ground, shaking. Both men were now covered in their own blood. Harry crawled to his professor’s side, checking to see if he was still alive. Snape approached his fallen adversary.

“Time for this conflict to end,” he said with a sly smile. Harry then caught a glimpse of something he hadn’t seen before. Inside Snape’s robes was a very old looking book. Harry couldn’t see the title, but he knew without a doubt it was the missing book of the Dark Arts. Without thinking of the consequences, Harry dove for it.

“Avada Ke �“”

“HARRY!” shouted Ginny desperately.

“NO!” bellowed Snape, interrupting his own curse as the book was ripped from his inner pocket.

“Expelliarmus!” shouted Moody, sending the distracted Snape into Draco, who caught the Potions Master before Apparating away. Harry pulled Moody to a sitting position as Ginny ran for his leg. After a couple minutes, they had him standing again.

“Nice thinking, Potter,” he said between breaths. “That book will come in handy, no doubt. It was obvious Snape didn’t want that taken away.”

“There’s something else we need to do before they get the idea of coming back, Professor. I know how to destroy those things.”

Moody looked as though he’d seen Harry for the first time, shocked and awed.

“How?”

“I’ll need your help. Ginny, could you bring my broom to me?”

Ginny brought it, and noticed there were a couple scrolls attached to it. She pulled them off and handed them to Harry, who opened the second one. He and Moody overlooked the spells and wand movements to release the soul fragments and how to destroy them several times before looking at each other.

“We’ll do it at the same time,” said Moody. “Weasley, keep on your guard. I don’t know what these things’ll do once they’re out. Ready, Potter?”

Both Harry and Alastor moved their wands in sync with one another as Dumbledore’s instructions directed, sending spells at the Horcruxes. After several of each, the objects began glowing orange. They grew in size and took on the shape of the being to whom they belonged. Immediately, both orange shadows flew at their attackers, knocking them over. Harry and Mad-Eye regained composure just before being knocked over again. Harry shouted the incantation to destroy the soul fragment, and hit one of the flying shadows. The object exploded as though several fireworks had been set off all at the same time. The flash was brilliant and lengthy as the figure disappeared. The other turned back around and hurled a curse at Harry, who ducked to avoid it.

He heard Ginny shout, “Impedimenta!” which went straight through the apparition. It seemed to laugh at her. That was just the distraction Harry needed to shoot the incantation, destroying the second piece of Voldemort’s soul. Exhausted, he turned to Moody, who was now unconscious on the ground. Harry felt sorry for the man, as he was no longer young, and he’d just taken quite a punishment at the hands of the former Potions Master of Hogwarts. Ginny leapt into Harry’s arms, her body shaking from what had just happened to them. Harry was so tired he fell to his knees, holding on to her tightly. Both stayed in the other’s arms for a couple minutes before Harry got up and took Ginny’s hand. He walked her over to his broom and sat her down. He got on behind her and kicked off.

“I’ll have someone come back for Moody. I can’t carry him back,” he said as the two flew back to the castle. On the way back, Ginny told Harry how Snape had tried to charm the portrait into letting them in, but when it didn’t work, he threw a curse at it, which unhinged the canvas. Ron tried to stop them, as did Hermione, but both were hurt in the process. Ginny tried to prevent them from leaving, but Draco threw her wand aside and grabbed her. She fought hard, but was dragged half-way. She saw Snape Apparate away after telling Draco where and when to meet him. A few moments later, Harry arrived.

They flew straight past the gates to the gargoyle statue. Harry said the password and flew up the staircase to McGonagall’s door. Knocking quickly before entering, he told Minerva the events that had just unfolded. She quickly followed him back to where Moody lay, still unconscious. Though tired and wearing a crimson mask of his own blood, Harry helped his professor back to the castle with the other Order members who followed him there. Minerva pulled him aside once more to ask him a few questions.

“Now you’re sure it was Mr. Malfoy, right, Potter?” she asked.

“Yes, Professor, it was Malfoy.”

“Well, we’ll deal with him shortly. And you’re sure they Apparated here and left the same way?”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible! No one can Apparate past the gates of this castle! Unless...”

Minerva didn’t finish the sentence. She brought her hands to her face, which now had a look of horror on it.

“I was hoping this wouldn’t happen, but it seems as though it has begun.”

“What is it, Professor?” asked Harry, curious to learn what was so terrifying.

“I don’t want to say it unless I know for certain. I’ll let you and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix know as soon as I am sure.”

With that, she led him to the castle and ordered him to go to the Hospital wing. Harry did not want to be there at the moment, however, and limped back to Gryffindor tower. He found Ginny waiting for him, who pulled him into another embrace. He was so tired that he fell onto the couch, taking her with him. They locked eyes once more. There was no fear. No horror or shock. There was understanding. Shortly after that, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, weakened by the day’s activities.

“The Halloween feast has always been a festivity of fun and games,” began Professor McGonagall in front of the student body in the Great Hall. “However, this year’s feast will not be the same as the past ones. A fellow student of yours, Draco Malfoy, has been expelled on some very serious charges. The others involved in the calamity are alright, though harm was intended for these students. On another note, let me assure you that, while you are safe within these walls, be on your guard. As you can see, not all danger comes from outside Hogwarts. Please take this simply as a light warning to keep your wands with you at all times. With that, let the feast begin.”

A dismal mood had overtaken the room as the prepared food magically appeared before the students and staff. It had only been two days since Draco and Snape had attempted to steal the two Horcruxes from Hogwarts, injured four students, and almost fatally incapacitated a professor in the process. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny ate silently, as did most of the students. It had been years since a student had been expelled, according to Hermione’s readings, and this knowledge left little to talk about at the present time.

Harry was grateful his friends were alright. Hermione had to have her air way cleared and her voice revived before she was able to communicate anything, as both were constricted by a spell from Snape. Ron had suffered three cracked ribs and a broken wrist. Ginny and Harry both were bruised and bloodied by their confrontation, but that was all. Professor Moody had it the worst. He was sent to St. Mungo’s immediately. The results of the duel would render him heavily bandaged and further accentuate his limp. The memory of seeing two fully trained wizards duel one another still had Harry’s mind stirring. It was a sight he had longed to see for so long, and now wished he’d never seen it at all. Not everything that is dreamed about occurs the same way when played out in reality.

Harry also noticed that Professor McGonagall had been very preoccupied and removed since he told her about the Apparations. Hermione reiterated to Harry the impossibility of such an occurrence at Hogwarts, but Ginny argued alongside him. The truth would be told soon enough, and Harry knew that was a fact. McGonagall had called another Phoenix meeting for that night, and he knew it wasn’t going to be good news. If Apparating wasn’t possible within the grounds of Hogwarts, then why was it possible for Snape? And Draco, who was even less experienced than the Potions Master?

After less than an hour, the students filed out. Harry stayed seated, as did his friends. They wanted to know the truth as well. The duel had shaken the close group of friends, and they were concerned about Harry. Hagrid walked up to the quartet and smiled fondly.

“Yeh lot had best be runnin’ along,” he said softly. “Harry’ll tell yeh what happened later on. Don’ worry ‘bout it.”

With that, he turned and walked out, followed by the rest of the staff. The small group of Gryffindors left the Great Hall and watched Harry leave towards the Headmistress’ office. When he entered the room, the Order was buzzing. Tonks and Lupin had arrived, as had Garrison and the rest of the staff associated with the group. Moody was even there, looking rather worse for wear.

“Well, get on with it, Minerva!” demanded Alastor. “Is it true or isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid it is,” was her quiet response.

The room went deathly silent. Harry looked at the faces of the other members, and not one had a look of joy or hope. They all wore expressions of disheartenment, defeat, and shock.

“It can’t be,” said Remus, shaking his head. “It’s not possible.”

“It’s obviously possible,” Mad-Eye responded loudly. “Two students can attest to that, and clearly Malfoy didn’t just walk out the front gates of the castle. I myself saw those two Apparate from within the gates, so what we all feared is true. The defenses of Hogwarts are diminishing. There’s no other way to say it.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to look shocked and defeated. If the defenses were weakening, then there was no telling what could happen to the school!

“Let’s not jump to the worst possible conclusion just yet, Alastor,” said Minerva. “I’ll try to explain this to you all. I had a feeling this might have happened after Potter told me the truth about the Apparating. So I went to research it. There are so many spells and types of magic protecting this castle that it would be impossible for a full attack to be made. However, as Professor Dumbledore had created a large amount of them and maintained them while serving as Headmaster, these spells are starting to weaken in his absence.”

“How can that be?” asked Harry, unable to contain himself any longer.

“It’s because no one, including Dumbledore, thought he would be leaving at the time he did,” responded Garrison, stepping out of the shadows. “You’ve seen how powerful a wizard he was, even at his age. We assumed he’d always be here, and so did he. It was foolish, but there was no reason to believe otherwise, so Dumbledore maintained the spells merely by being present within the grounds. However, after half a year of absence, the spells would logically begin to diminish. It’s only a matter of time before they are non-existent. When that happens �“”

“When that happens, plans will be set in motion to further protect the students at this school,” Lupin interrupted. “Voldemort would be a fool if he decided to attack us here, with many of the Order’s members present, and a school with many skilled students.”

“But it could also result in an attack that would turn the tide of the war permanently,” argued Garrison. “Have you forgotten who’s in attendance here? If Voldemort wanted a chance to kill Potter, now’s the perfect time for him to strike!”

The other members of the order immediately took sides on the issue and the office was filled with loud voices. The portraits were also split, arguing alongside the Order members. Some just moved to another part of the castle or covered their ears. One near Harry, who was just watching the dissension taking place in front of him, started muttering to himself.

“If they cannot be united as they once were with Dumbledore at the head, the Death Eaters won’t need a full attack.”

“Which do you think is right?” Harry asked the portrait.

“I agree that the best time for the Death Eaters to attack would be soon, considering Hogwarts is at its weakest. But with the Order present and the students united, they wouldn’t stand a chance. It’s like the Sorting Hat always says, but no one listens to the voices of Hogwarts anymore.”

“Is it possible to hear them still?”

“Of course, if you’re willing to listen for them. If you open your mind while in this office, you’ll hear their advice. They may even answer some questions for you. It worked for me when I was Headmaster here.”

“I’ll have to try that,” said Harry, more to himself than to the portrait. He thanked the canvas and turned his attention back to the Order, which was still speaking in raised voices.

“There’s no point in staying any longer, Potter,” Phineas Nigellus said with a look of disgust at the arguing group. “Just walk out the door. You’re no longer needed here.”

Though he hated to agree with this painting, he took its advice and left. In the corridors, he reflected on what he had just heard. When he returned to Gryffindor tower, he said the password.

“If ever there was a time to look downright hopeless, it’s now,” said the Fat Lady sadly as she opened. Her canvas had been repaired and the background repainted just hours after the attack.

Harry was met with a blast of sound and conversation. Obviously at the center of the room was Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, but the whole of Gryffindor tower was present as well, all anxious to hear what was going on. When they saw Harry come in, the room quieted quickly. He walked to the chair facing the fire and didn’t say a word. His heart leapt when he felt the expected hand on his shoulder. Ginny walked over to him and sat on the floor in front of him, putting his hands in hers.

“What happened, Harry?”

Not sure how to explain, Harry remained stationary. Ginny asked again, and Ron and Hermione knelt beside her. All the students leaned in closer, and Harry finally said it. As one, they all gasped. A few girls screamed. Both Ginny and Hermione put their hands to their mouths as Ron stood looking dumbfounded. The news, they knew, would be bad, but no one expected the worst: Hogwarts was truly not safe any longer.

“That’s what McGonagall meant at the feast today,” said Hermione. “The defenses of Hogwarts are weakening. But there’s so much magic protecting this place!”

Harry took a deep breath and further explained the situation to her. For the next few minutes, Harry took questions and explained as much as he could. He retold the story of what happened on the mountainside two days prior, and grew tired and weary with all the stress. Time was so short now. He knew he had two more Horcruxes to find and now this. He could no longer keep his friends here and be assured of their safety. They were better off at Hogwarts, but not for long.

No one spoke for a time, even when Harry stood up and walked slowly to his room. He expected to hear a roar of conversation as soon as the door shut, but instead he heard the dissipating sound of whispers and crying. He laid down and closed his eyes, wanting it to be all over. He wished he was one of his peers instead of who he was. He wanted to forget the responsibility that rested on him, but his mind wouldn’t give him any peace. A few minutes later, the door opened and Ron next to him sat on his bed.

“Ron, I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“It’s not about that,” Ron said, sounding a bit more emotional than he usually did. “I, well, we, need to ask you something.”

The last time Harry heard that was a couple days ago when Ron found him and Ginny asleep in each other’s arms on the couch in the commons room. That was awkward enough, and Harry didn’t know what Ron was going to ask now. He turned to his side, noticing Hermione was there too.

“How long are you going to stand alone without us?” she asked, knowing what Ron was thinking.

It was the last thing Harry expected to be asked. His eyes started to water as he sat up and looked at his best friends. They had always been there, and he knew they always would be.

“I can’t anymore,” he responded, fighting his emotions. “I need you now more than ever. Will you...I mean, could you...?”

“Yes,” both Ron and Hermione said, embracing their friend. The comfort he felt with these two was cut short, however, when a shadow blocked the light coming in through the door. It was Garrison.

“When you’re finished here, meet me outside the portrait, Potter.”

With that, he left. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks as Harry stood and walked out the door. He turned, smiled softly, and followed his professor. The room had remarkably cleared out by that time, so Harry just walked out the portrait hole. Garrison was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, waiting.

Wordlessly, Garrison started walking away. Harry rushed to keep up, wondering why his professor was acting this way. He seemed frustrated. Probably from the meeting, Harry thought. After several hallways, he saw a torch approaching. It was Filch.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” he sneered. It was as if he didn’t even see Garrison.

“I’m here with Professor Garrison,” responded Harry defensively.

“Don’t lie to me, Potter. There’s no one here but me and you. Now I ask again, what are you doing here? And don’t give me trouble, boy, or you’ll regret it.”

“He’s with me,” said Garrison, but he didn’t sound like himself. The voice sounded deeper and more sinister. Filch, startled by this new presence, started to back away.

“Who are you? What do you want? You can have the boy, just leave me alone specter!”

“You’d best be off then,” Garrison said forebodingly. Filch tucked tail and ran away, constantly checking behind him with his lantern to see if he was being pursued.

“And you’d best keep up,” said Garrison.

“I was right behind you,” Harry replied.

“I was leaning against that pillar and I didn’t see you.”

“But you were right there!”

“Be careful what you feel and what your eyes tell you, Harry. Didn’t it seem strange when I didn’t say a word but just kept walking?”

“Well, yes, but...”

“I wasn’t with you, Harry. I was waiting for you by that pillar the whole time.”

Harry froze for a moment, trying to comprehend what was going on. He was utterly confused. After a moment, his professor revealed the secret.

“It’s an illusion trick that can save your life. It’s saved mine quite a few times.”

“There’s a few other spells he used that you didn’t catch on to either, Potter,” said a second voice. Harry turned around and saw Mad-Eye limp towards him.

“What? I mean, where?”

Both professors exchanged precarious looks before starting to walk again. This time, Harry hesitated.

“Let’s go, boy!” shouted Moody, and Harry followed.

The three men climbed several staircases to the top floor, walked past a wall three times, and stood back as a door appeared. All three entered the room, one after the other, and Harry gazed at his surroundings. There were several different books around, but the amount of space was incredible. The far wall looked very unusual, as if it wasn’t attached to anything. It wasn’t floating, but just sat there. Harry looked to his professors for answers, hoping he’d get them soon.

“You heard the news earlier this evening, as you obviously passed it along to your fellow Gryffindors,” started Moody. “After you left and the argument ceased, Garrison and I spoke about what to do with you and came to a decision. I was going to collect you, but Garrison insisted we show you some things prior to. Which brings us to the hallway and to here.”

“You just witnessed a number of spells you most likely didn’t know existed,” Garrison continued, walking around to Harry’s other side like a wolf circling its prey. “These spells have saved the lives of many members of the Order of the Phoenix the first time Voldemort was around, and they continue to do so still. It is about time you learn to defend yourself properly without relying on sheer luck and improvisation. Therefore, we will be training you nightly on different defense techniques �“”

“Nightly!” cried Harry. “But Professor, I have school work to so and the Horcruxes and �“”

“Don’t interrupt, Potter,” Garrison responded quickly. “And speaking of Horcruxes, we’ve still got two more to find. Time’s running out. That meeting should’ve knocked that into your head! You no longer have time to be idle. This is the moment for action and for you became a better duelist. Tonight you were introduced to a few of the spells we’ll be teaching you, which were the illusion spell, the voice change, and the invisibility charm. Those three will be taught to you tonight, and you will not return to your dormitory until you’ve performed them to our satisfaction.”

“That’s how things are going to be for a while, Potter,” interjected Moody. “The next time you face Voldemort, it won’t be so easy, as it will truly be one on one, and don’t expect him to toy with you any longer.”

“What are these spells going to do against Voldemort?” Harry asked.

“Voldemort isn’t the only one coming after you. These aren’t for him. They’re for his Death Eaters.”

“Then why is it just me learning them?”

“Because you are our only hope left.”

Harry was silent for some time after that, as were his two professors. Just then, a thought popped in Harry’s head.

“Professor Moody, do you remember the DA?”

“DA? Oh, you mean Dumbledore’s Army a few years back. Yeah, I remember that,” Moody responded.

“Do you think I could teach the rest of my friends these spells by restarting it?”

Moody and Garrison exchanged glances once again, this time grinning.

“Resurrecting Dumbledore’s Army? I think that’d be appropriate for that group to rise again from the ashes,” Garrison responded.

Harry smiled, happy at the news that he would be surrounded by his friends again in the DA. It was bad enough without Quidditch to keep him occupied, but this was a decent substitute. Unfortunately for him, his smile didn’t last long. Moody and Garrison weren’t easily satisfied with Harry’s work, and Harry didn’t get much time to rest. Both wizards drove him until he had no energy left, then continued working him relentlessly. It was important that he learned these spells, but Harry wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t sure he could handle teaching something he himself couldn’t master. He also learned that he would need more resilience and endurance for a full-fledged duel.

Following four and a half hours of training, Harry was relieved to go back to his bed. The sun was already starting to make its presence known in the sky as Harry dropped to his mattress and fell asleep. A couple hours later, Ron shook him awake.

“We’ve got class, mate,” his friend said before exiting the room. Potions was their first class of the day, and Harry was asleep after 10 minutes of it.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, harshly elbowing him in the side. He grunted in response, sitting up and looking at Professor Slughorn.

“You know the answer, right Harry?” said his professor. A satisfactory look overcame Hermione’s face as Harry looked astonished.

“Could you repeat the question, sir?”

“I asked you how many times a human being can withstand a full dosage of a unicorn and stallion speed acceleration potion before they are permanently affected by its power.”

“Er,” Harry stammered. “I think it’s six or seven.”

“Close,” said Slughorn. “The amount is actually eight. Good guess, though. Still asleep, eh, Harry?”

After class, the trio went to the Great Hall for an early lunch. Harry told Ron and Hermione about what had happened the previous night with Garrison and Moody.

“They’re going to train you that hard every night!” exclaimed Ron. “Blimey, that’s rough.”

“Not to mention that Garrison seems to give you a hard time whenever he’s able,” mentioned Hermione. “I wonder why that is.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” responded Harry.

“Do you know them?” asked Hermione.

“I have some ideas, but nothing for certain. He did mention something else to me when I asked him about it.”

“What?” asked Ron and Hermione simultaneously.

“I’m bringing back the DA and teaching them everything I learn as soon as I have it mastered. There’s no sense in me learning it on my own, as it pertains to the Death Eaters, not to Voldemort.”

“But what can you use against Voldemort?” asked Hermione.

“There is a spell Dumbledore told me about in his letter that I’ll need your help in looking up. I guess that’ll help some.”

“I certainly would hope so,” replied Ron shakily. “I’d hate to face him unprepared.” When Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron with annoyed faces, Ron flushed and said, “Well, just saying...”

“Anyway,” interrupted Hermione, “how are you going to recreate the DA?”

“I want you two to help me get as many of the old members as possible. Let them know that next Sunday night will be the first meeting. That should give me enough time to master a few of the spells Moody and Garrison want me to have down. Have them tell their friends as well. Try to keep it away from Slytherin at all costs, though. I don’t want any members from there. If word leaks out to the Death Eaters, then �“”

“Then we’re in trouble,” Ron finished. He looked excited, as did Hermione. It brought back their old fighting spirits, and they seemed very eager to learn more from Harry.

That night, Harry was bombarded once more with spells a great deal more complex than he ever imagined them to be. He was thrown against the wall on more than one occasion, and the strange looking wall was actually thrown at him on several more. Moody and Garrison made the whole room a frightening place to behold, with objects flying and hovering from every direction Harry looked.

Harry knew this was not a game, nor did he treat it as such. He held his own after many failed attempts, learning the spells and standing his ground by the night’s end. Moody was impressed, but Garrison insisted on more drilling. Harry was able to get two more hours of sleep than the previous night, but it still wasn’t enough to get him through Professional Transfiguration. McGonagall woke him several times during class to make sure he learned the material of the day.

This schedule was constant for the next week and a half, and Harry was very tired by the time the first DA meeting was to happen. Moody and Garrison agreed to give him the night off for the meeting, but he would be back the following evening. When Harry walked to the seventh floor, he was surprised by the amount of students waiting for him. Last time, there were between twenty and thirty. Tonight, though, there were close to sixty, which almost accounted for all of the houses this year, Slytherin not included.

A thought came to Harry, and he placed himself under the invisibility spell before approaching the group. He listened to the conversations going on around him as he walked past the wall three times, thinking of a place for them to have their meeting. The Room of Requirements revealed its door to all, and a slight gasp was emitted from the group as the door opened seemingly on its own. Harry undid the spell at that time, holding the door open.

“Are you ready for one more go at Dumbledore’s Army?” he asked with a grin. The group of students returned his smile and all walked into the room. When Harry, who entered the room last, looked at his surroundings, it was like walking into an old memory, much like walking into Moody’s office earlier in the year. The memories encompassing this particular room were much more pleasant.

“For those returning to the DA,” began Harry, “welcome back. For those who weren’t with us the first time, there will be a separate group for you. There is much to learn, and unfortunately not much time to learn it. I will be teaching you, just like last time, and as you can see from the spell I used outside, these will be a bit more difficult and a lot more useful against any Death Eaters.”

With that, Harry split up the massive group into two sections. He had the veterans of the DA practice what they remembered from last time in one part of the room while he led the new members to the opposite side. I don’t remember the room being this large last time, thought Harry to himself, noticing the far wall was much farther than before. He had the new group practice the stunning drills with pillows before moving to the advanced group.

“Alright, now try the Patronus,” he instructed.

Harry was surprised with how well the returning members performed and decided to start them with the voice change that Garrison had used. Though he wasn’t skilled enough yet to change his voice too dramatically, he was able to perform the basic charm, and it was with this knowledge that he demonstrated to the DA members in front of him. For several hours, Harry went back and forth between the two groups, constantly correcting and complimenting when he could. There were a lot of mistakes from all the students, but Hermione, Neville, and Ginny could be counted upon to master the new spells quickly, and they joined him in helping others.

The last time the DA was in existence, Harry was very unsure of himself as a teacher. This time, with all the drilling Moody and Garrison had him doing on a nightly basis, he felt almost over-prepared. After the first DA meeting had concluded, Hermione brought out a bag of Galleons, with the same configuration as two years prior. Harry smiled, remembering a time when he didn’t have to worry as much as he did now.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all walked Harry back to Gryffindor tower after the meeting, and they all wore smiles. Harry was silent, listening to his closest friends discuss what had happened. Then Ron made an unexpected comment.

“Harry, you taught us so much better than last time.”

“Yes you did,” agreed Hermione. “You seem so much surer of yourself now than you used to.”

“He also holds himself a bit higher than he once did,” added Ginny, “meaning he’s more confident than before.”

The friends walked through the portrait hole, and Harry decided to hold the meetings once a week, every Sunday evening. That would give him six nights with dueling lessons and one with the DA. He thought it was fair, so he would bring it up to Moody and Garrison the next night.

Although the first DA meeting was a success, the following night was almost torture. Garrison was the only one there that night, as Moody had some things to look in to. They had another lead on one of the missing Horcruxes, and Moody wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. The curse of the night was to draw blood, and Garrison wasn’t about to let Harry slack off. He taught the countercurse to Harry first before hurling the actual curse right at him. Caught off guard, Harry was hit with it and cut on his left cheek.

“Block it, Potter!” shouted Garrison before hurling another at him. This time, Harry did block it, and every time after that as well. Finally it was Harry’s turn to learn the curse, and he threw it back with a vengeance. It was Garrison’s turn to be surprised, as he was driven back by the power of the curse. Both of them now bleeding, Garrison smiled an unusual smile at Harry before walking up to him. He placed his wand on Harry’s face, and the pain and the wound healed.

“How did you do that?” asked Harry, bewildered.

“You forget I’m not an Auror, but a Healer,” was Garrison’s simple response. “A few more curses should suffice for the rest of our time here.”

These curses were painful to endure and extremely difficult to perform. Harry was hit by each one at least a dozen times before he learned just the countercurse, and after all these hits, he was angry. He charged at Garrison, firing with everything he knew. Garrison blocked every curse and charm thrown at him effortlessly before sending Harry flying to the back wall, unable to move.

“This is not a game, Potter,” spat Garrison as he hovered above the ground and shot towards Harry. When his face was three inches from that of his student’s, he landed softly on the ground, a serious expression on his face.

“I told you before to watch that mean streak. As you can see, attacking in anger only opens you to an entirely new world of pain and humility. You are not ready yet for any battle or duel. And you won’t be until you learn to block properly, throw these spells more accurately, and keep your mind closed.”

“Who are you?” Harry shouted back. “You sound like Snape did last year when Dumbledore died.”

“And a brilliant effort that was in your duel with him, wasn’t it?”

Harry was almost boiling over with anger as his breathing sped up.

“Why do you keep hitting me over and over again with these curses? There’s no point in teaching this way, if you can even call this teaching.”

“I do call this teaching, Potter,” replied Garrison with a sneer as he let Harry fall to the ground. Harry stood as quickly as possible, a determined, albeit frustrated, look on his face.

“Now, let’s go again, shall we?”

Harry was hit several more times when he gave up. He found himself against the wall again, which knocked the wind out of him.

“How do you expect to learn when you won’t even try?”

“I can’t do what you can,” responded Harry.

“That’s not true! I’m not the one who can defeat Voldemort, am I? I’m not the one who’s being pursued by the most dangerous organization of wizards in our history. And I’m also not the one whose honor, friends, and family are at risk because I don’t have the will or the resilience to stand and fight when it is necessary.”

“But this isn’t a fight,” protested Harry, now drained of energy.

“No, it’s not,” said Garrison. “But if you don’t learn the nature of these curses, how they feel, how they’re blocked, and how they’re used, then you will never be capable of standing in front of Voldemort as a worthy opponent. That’s why I’m teaching you this. I’ve fought him, boy! I’ve fought him.”

Garrison dropped Harry again, shaking his head as he turned his back to him.

“I know exactly what you’re up against.”

“Why don’t you just tell me what happened to you?” asked Harry.

Garrison turned around with a different expression this time: one of pity and remorse.

“It’s not time for you to know yet. Now get up and try it again.”

The two went at it for a few more hours before Harry had everything completed. He had a new respect for Garrison, even though this night had been his most painful yet. He returned to the tower completely drained of energy. He saw Hermione come up from behind him just as he was about to climb through the portrait hole.

“Where’ve you been?”

“I had lessons with Garrison,” Harry responded.

“You missed Transfiguration, Harry. Oh, my! What happened to your face?”

Harry hadn’t looked in a mirror, but he still felt some of the burns and scratches from Garrison’s barrage of attacks just minutes earlier.

“You have bruises all over your face! Come inside, quickly.”

Harry followed Hermione through the portrait hole and lay on the couch. Hermione grabbed a small vile from her room before returning and placing it on Harry’s face. Her hands were soft and the ointment was soothing, making Harry feel even more tired.

“Stay awake, Harry,” said Hermione softly. After a few minutes, Harry’s bruises had dissipated and the two left for lunch. Ron was already there waiting for them. They talked about classes and Harry’s lessons for a bit when Hermione brought up the DA.

“When will the next meeting be?” she asked.

“Sunday night,” he said. That seemed to work for his friends, and Hermione had him put the date in his Galleon before finishing his food. A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall approached them with a smile on her face. Taken aback, Harry stood wearily and asked what was going on.

“I know why you were absent,” began McGonagall, “so there’s no need to feel nervous. I actually have some good news for you. I’m informing all the captains of last year that there will be one Quidditch game this year, and it will be in two weeks. You need to get your team assembled and ready quickly, Potter. It’ll be a different sort of game, since there will only be one.”

“Why only one?” asked Ron dejectedly.

“It’s too dangerous to have more than one, with us all out in the open,” Hermione responded.

“Quite right, Ms. Granger,” responded McGonagall, turning her attention back to Harry.

“Now, you will be selecting seven players from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as the three of those houses add up to Slytherin. Choose carefully, Harry, and most importantly, have fun with this. Good luck to you.”

Professor McGonagall smiled again and left them. Harry felt as though he was on top of the world. He turned to his friends with the biggest smile he’d had all year.

“You ready for one more game, Ron?” he asked excitedly.

“I’m right behind you!” exclaimed Ron. Hermione was happy for them, and looked forward to something that would be fun and carefree for once.

Harry felt happier than he had in months while preparing for the upcoming Quidditch match. He was given three days off of dueling lessons for try-outs, since he was the captain of the team. Quite a few students from every house came to test their abilities, and after several hard decisions, Harry had chosen two from each house, and himself as Seeker. Ron and Ginny were the Gryffindors.

The DA met every Sunday evening, as Harry had planned, and each time they trained, Harry was surprised at how sure he was, and how quickly the members of the DA learned what he taught them. There was always something missing, though. They could never do the spells quite as effectively as Harry could, nor could they block them every time as he could. That’s why I’m trained differently, thought Harry.

His dueling lessons with Moody and Garrison continued, each night more difficult than the ones preceding it. Though Harry had mastered the material from his earlier lessons, the more recent spells and curses he was learning were more effective and could overpower what he knew. By learning in this manner, Harry was beginning to understand how much he didn’t know and how dangerous a full-scale duel really was.

Most of his classes were also getting difficult. Transfiguration was almost impossible. While November was slowly passing by, the class was beyond Animagi and onto several other forms of Transfiguration, such as turning large objects into very small ones, and vice versa. Dark Arts was easier due to his nightly dueling, but the lessons were structured differently, and he found himself doing more research on spells and countercurses than he ever thought he’d do.

Healing was by far his most difficult class. Even Hermione was struggling to keep up. Garrison had them all work with and without their wands while doing spells. As it turned out, Healing could be done without any wands or potions, but simply by the touch of a hand and the thought of a charm. No one in the classroom was able to do such advanced magic, but the notion was appealing. For the first time in his life, Harry found himself looking forward to Potions. It was the only class he was doing exceedingly well in, due to his studies over summer. That gave him an edge going into the class and he found it helped him greatly on exams. The rest of his schedule was mostly to occupy whatever free time he had with studying and pointless facts about topics he would never need to remember. Thanks to his dueling lessons, Charms was all too easy, as was Astronomy. Even Herbology seemed easier thanks to Garrison’s constant work with plants and herbs.

After a stressful week of try-outs, dueling lessons, and schoolwork, Harry was thankful to sleep in on Saturday morning. That day would be the first practice for the new Quidditch team, and he was greatly looking forward to it. As it would turn out, the day was perfect for such a practice, and the team was in good spirits. After several attempts, they worked well as a unit and were able to ask a few of their former teammates from years past to make a second team to play against. The makeshift game lasted the rest of the afternoon with the score 30-35. Both teams were great, and Harry knew he had some alternate players should someone be injured.

That night, Moody and Garrison worked with Harry again, this time on a subject Harry dreaded.

“It’s about time we start teaching you how to use the Unforgivable Curses,” started Moody. “I know it’s not ethical, but in times like these, you need to protect yourself by any means necessary. We don’t use them often, except for emergencies.”

“Like the Muggle Ministry?” asked Harry.

‘Yes, that’s a prime example. And if you’re hoping to kill Voldemort, you’ll need to learn how to use the Killing Curse. So what you do is the exact opposite of a Patronus Spell: you think of the most hateful feelings you have, focus your anger as you did in a few of last night’s spells, and shout the curse. We have a rat for you to practice on.”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing this, Professor,” said Harry timidly, not wanting to perform these curses on a defenseless animal.

“I thought you might say that,” said Garrison. “So I brought something else for you to work with. Come with us.”

“I don’t think he’s ready for that yet,” muttered Moody in Garrison’s ear.

“We need him to be. If he’s not able to defend himself by now, then what use is it to proceed?”

The two men led Harry outside the front doors of Hogwarts into the Forbidden Forest. When something moved to the left of them, all three had their wands out.

“So you have come, then,” said a foreboding voice.

“Yes, the boy should be ready by now,” replied Garrison. “Come on out and show yourself.”

Harry heard steps being taken, but they didn’t sound like footsteps. As the figure came out of the bushes into the light from his wand, Harry recognized him. It was Bane, the centaur.

“You know this young one cannot handle me in a one on one confrontation, I assume,” Bane said, more a comment than a question.

“He’s been taught quite a lot over the past month, and he needs to be tested,” said Garrison. Harry looked at his professor, who had an expression on his face that demanded no argument. Moody stood idly by, leaning on his staff with his face passive but alert.

“Follow me,” said the centaur. Several minutes later, the group was deep in the Forest, coming in to a clearing. Harry heard a whisper behind him just before they stopped.

“This is where we shall see if you are ready,” said Bane. “Draw your wand.”

Harry drew his wand slowly, then turned to his professors.

“Is this really necessary?”

He was not able to ask anything more after that, as he was knocked down by two hooves to his chest.

“Always keep your attention on your opponent, even when you don’t intend to fight at the moment,” the centaur spat out, charging again.

Harry side-stepped Bane and shot a stunning curse at him. Bane dodged it quickly, turning around and picking Harry up, throwing him across the clearing harder this time. Once he landed, the centaur started stomping, forcing Harry to roll out of the way. Remembering his lessons, Harry put a charm on himself which made him hover above the ground and out of stepping height. He landed softly a short distance away and looked around. He couldn’t see a thing anymore. Moody and Garrison weren’t even visible.

Listening to his surroundings, Harry heard Bane breathing quietly to his right. It was unusual not being able to see his opponent.

“I can’t see anything,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

“I put a blinding curse on you so you won’t be able to see,” replied Garrison. “Your eyes can deceive you at times, as you’ve seen during your lessons.” Harry was kicked again by the unseen centaur.

“Use your instincts only. Try to feel where your opponent is and be sure to hit him. One miss in a duel could lead to your death.”

Harry stood still for a moment, listening once more. He heard galloping from behind him and knew he had to act quickly. He placed himself under the invisibility charm and dodged at the last moment, feeling Bane’s hooves on his robe sleeve. Harry crouched quietly, thinking of what to do next. He felt a leg brush against him softly before another kick sent him flying. He got up and whispered the clone charm. He placed the illusion next to a tree he felt against his back and walked away. He heard the charge coming, and when the centaur hit the tree, Harry shouted, Expelliarmus! There was a grunt as some trees collapsed with the weight of his opponent. Harry took the invisibility charm off and shouted triumphantly.

Unfortunately, Harry had acted too soon, as he heard more galloping and was thrown back into a tree. He screamed as he felt a sharp part of the trunk sticking out pierce his arm all the way through. He then heard Bane rear up and felt the sting of a kick to the head. It freed him from the tree, but he was now bleeding profusely. He stood up and shouted five curses in a row at where he pictured himself standing earlier. Another collapsing sound followed as he felt dust being spewed in his direction. It was then that his vision was returned.

Harry looked in front of him at Bane, who was covered in wounds, had a broken leg, was immobilized, and confused as to who he was. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he jumped, a curse on the tip of his tongue ready for whoever was next.

“Expelliarmus!” shouted Moody, and Harry’s wand was sent away from him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Potter,” said Garrison, and healed the wound on Harry’s arm with a couple different charms. He also touched Harry’s temple with his wand, and Harry felt his energy come back to him. This allowed him to stand straight again without pain.

“Why did you do that to me?” Harry demanded in a loud voice.

“Because it was done to me,” responded Garrison, “when I fought Voldemort. Tomorrow night you have off to do as you please. The following nights you will return to your dueling lessons. However, next Monday evening, you will meet us at the front door of the castle ready for a second duel with Bane. I have something I must attend to, so Alastor will walk you back.”

Garrison turned and walked away. After a few steps, he turned around with a grin and said, “Not bad, Potter.”

“Not bad is right,” agreed Moody after they had returned Bane to his normal, angry state and started walking back to Hogwarts. “I thought Garrison was right in thinking you weren’t ready when you kept getting kicked. You also let up the invisibility charm too early. For your first outing, though, it was better than we expected.”

“Professor, what about this duel with Voldemort Professor Garrison keeps mentioning?”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one to tell you about that. What I will say is that he knows what you need to take on evil in its purest form, and tonight you proved that you are on your way to being a formidable opponent to Voldemort.”

“How did you get Bane to agree to this? Aren’t centaurs very strongly against interacting with us?”

“They are indeed. However, Bane seemed to need an outlet for his anger, and we told him we’d have a fight for him in a little while. The rest of the centaurs didn’t know about it. Rest up, Potter, because next time will be more difficult.”

Harry’s arm hurt the rest of the night and the whole next day, but he was starting to get excited. Finally he was tested in a duel (of sorts), and he was still standing. Another fun thought popped into his head: the game was only a week away!

---

The next week went by faster than Harry could have imagined. Classes were a lighter load, his lessons weren’t as difficult, and the team was working better than Harry had imagined it. By the time Sunday rolled around, Harry was as excited as ever. He dressed in the locker room with the rest of his teammates, and all wore smiles with their uniforms. Since they were a team made from three houses, they chose to have elements from each house on the uniforms. The color was Blue with a crimson lion’s head ion the back and a golden badger on the front. Brooms at the ready, Harry lined them up before taking a step back and admiring his friends.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been waiting for a game all year!” he exclaimed, and the team cheered with him. “And even though it’s only one game, let’s make it the best game any of us has ever played!”

With that, the team marched behind the doors and flew out onto the field. Harry couldn’t restrain himself as he did a couple tricks with his broom and garnered some applause from the crowd.

“Enjoying yourself?” said a cheerful voice behind him. Ginny had flown close to him to talk before the game.

“I thought I’d wish you luck, Captain,” she said with a mischievous grin as she leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, winked at him, and flew off. Harry closed his eyes and smiled, breathing in the perfume she’d left behind. Before Harry could think clearly again, the game had already started. A golden blur in front of his face woke him from his stupor. He spun around and flew after the Snitch. The higher he got, the harder it was to see through the clouds. Harry also noticed a part of the sky that was deathly cold as he flew through it, but paid no attention, as it wore off quickly.

Harry lost the Snitch after some searching and flew back down. When he got within view of the field again, the two Hufflepuffs had already been knocked out of the game, as had their replacements, and one Ravenclaw had the entire Slytherin team after him. Harry made a choice right then and dove straight into the middle of the green-robed team. It was a Wronski Feint, angled to perfection. Two of the Slytherins lost their brooms due to the velocity of Harry’s charge and fell to the ground. When Harry pulled up, he heard a roar from his half of the crowd and did another trick in appreciation.

The game raged on, both teams now with only five players. The Bludgers were slung back and forth menacingly as Harry’s team and the Slytherins continued to play neck-and-neck. After an hour of playing, the Ravenclaw student who was chased before fell, and Slytherin took the lead in a 5 on 4 player game with a commanding score of 120-70. With almost no defense, Harry had to play as a Beater, a Chaser, and the Seeker. To say the least, he was exhausted. When he wasn’t looking, Harry was rammed from behind into one of the goal posts and almost fell off his broom.

Once he’d recovered, Harry noticed Draco Malfoy flying hard and fast into the sky, looking back at him with a sneer. Harry shot up after him, determined to win the game for his team. Strangely enough, when Harry was even with Malfoy, Draco backed off entirely, hovering in place with the sneer as evident as ever. The only Ravenclaw left had followed Harry to make sure Draco wasn’t going to try anything. Moments later, Harry had his fingers around the Snitch. What happened next was an occurrence Harry never forgot.

As soon as his fingertips touched the Snitch, the color turned from gold to a dark green. The small sphere then extended to a length of about fifteen feet before Harry noticed a fanged head that looked all too familiar: Nagini. The snake dove for Harry, who flipped around his broom to dodge the incoming serpent. The Ravenclaw behind him was hit instead with the lethal bite and both fell to the ground. Harry was stunned, and started to shiver. He noticed his shaking wasn’t because of fear, though. He turned around and saw a nightmare come true.

Seven Dementors, followed by at least a dozen Death Eaters, were flying directly at him, casting spells as fast as they could say them. Harry dodged them all as he flew hard for the ground. When he could see the students below, he put his wand to his throat, said Sonorous! and shouted, “Death Eaters! Run!” The students heard him and started to evacuate the stands. Harry soon realized that the spells that he was dodging weren’t all aimed at him. Several hit the grand stands below, collapsing one section with several students still trying to escape. Harry looked in stunned silence as the structure imploded, caving in on itself and crushing the students still on it. The wreck then erupted into green flames. By the time Harry thought he saw a spot to land, he had to rear up quickly, as the grass had been Transfigured into thousands of small blades. Chaos surrounded him as he looked at his surroundings.

The now sixteen Death Eaters were hurling curses at the students not in Slytherin and hitting quite a few. Several students now lay lifeless on the bladed surface of the ground. Others were bleeding from different parts of their body or were unable to breathe. The professors came running onto the field, followed shortly by the Order of the Phoenix. Harry saw Ginny and Ron fly to that group, and he followed. The remaining members of the DA joined them, and the retaliation force was assembled.

Before they could formulate a plan, Nagini was levitated into the middle of the group, separating it. The Death Eaters further divided the Order and the DA, isolating one or two at a time. McGonagall was the first to lose the battle as she was hit with several spells. Unfortunately, she was just one of the injured. More students fell as well while the rest of the school fled to the castle. When two Death Eaters followed, Hagrid clotheslined them. Harry grinned, as three other Death Eaters were killed by the Order and two more were brought down by the DA. Lupin and Tonks fought back to back, knocking a Death Eater off his broom. Ricky Li jumped into the air and did a spin kick, which knocked another Death Eater off his broom. Before he could recover, Ricky stunned him and ran to fight some more. Neville was also shouting spells at the incoming attackers, eventually using the clone spell and luring in another Death Eater. He missed him with the follow-up spell, however, as his adversary noticed what was happening and quickly flew off.

The Order of the Phoenix was trying to put on a show. Moody and Garrison had double teamed one of the Dementors and were slowly but surely killing it with a combination of spells Harry had never seen before. Whenever a Death Eater would try to interfere, one would stop their spell and take care of the distraction. The other professors were hurling curses and spells at anyone wearing black, but hit very few. Even Slughorn was on his feet defending Hogwarts. Harry wished hopelessly that Dumbledore were still alive to fight with them.

Though these small victories were encouraging, the amount of students and Order members that were hurt or killed was astounding. Harry ran all over the place looking for his friends, ignoring the blades cutting into his feet. He found Hermione fighting by herself. She was standing, but her clothes were torn and she had several scratches on her face. She also didn’t seem to notice Malfoy approaching.

“Hermione, turn around!” Harry shouted. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up, clearly not hearing what he was saying. When she turned around, Draco threw a knee into her stomach, which knocked her over. He then started kicking her over the bladed grass to a clearing. Just as Harry was about to act, he noticed the Dementors had gathered in one section of the Quidditch field. As the nearest one moved aside, Harry noticed they were attacking Hagrid. The half-giant was swinging his big arms around the air hopelessly, not hitting the Dementors as they quickly started sucking the life from him. Desperate, Harry ran in their direction. When he was about a hundred meters away, he screamed, Expecto Patronum! A silver stag shot from his wand in the direction of the Dementors, making Harry smile that it was over for them.

The stag hit three of the Dementors, knocking them away from Hagrid, but dissipated before it could hit the rest of them. Harry stood in shocked stillness as the remaining three surrounded Hagrid, giving him the Dementors’ Kiss. A moment later, the half-giant and Keeper of Hogwarts’ body fell to the ground, drained of life.

Harry wanted to scream, but felt unable to. Four more Death Eaters looked over Hagrid’s body, which snapped Harry back to reality. He ran up to them, hurling the cruelest curses he could think of at all of them. Three of the four Death Eaters were stunned by Harry’s outburst as the fourth backed away. Harry had no time to mourn, however, as he remembered his other friends were in trouble.

Hermione now writhed in pain and covered in her own blood at the feet of Draco Malfoy. Harry ran as fast as he could to her. Where’s Ron? he thought fiercely, knowing his friend should be there. He felt guilty for thinking accusatorily, though, as he wasn’t sure if Ron was safe either. I’ll help Hermione first, then I’ll look for Ron and Ginny. The closer he got to Hermione and Malfoy, the more hateful he became, as he could now hear Malfoy’s taunts.

“Are you enjoying this, Granger?” sneered Draco. “You and that stupid Potter were always such a great team. Where is he now? Where’s Dumbledore now? You’re all going to die, and I’m glad I’m able to be the one to kill you. I’ve waited seven long years for this, you filthy Mudblood! This one’s for my father.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

Harry saw the green spark, but it didn’t come from Draco’s wand. Instead, it hit Malfoy square in the chest and threw him back several meters. Suddenly, Ron appeared next to where Harry was standing. He’d been under the invisibility spell. Ron quickly moved alongside Hermione and helped her to her feet. Harry, relieved that his friends were safe, turned around and saw the remaining six Death Eaters retreat, Apparating in mid-air. They were followed by the Dementors. The first strike had just finished.

Harry walked through the field of death, tears falling freely down his face. The bodies that littered the ground seemed innumerable. This hit too close to home. What was worse is that the Order predicted it would happen, just not when. Not like this. Harry started crying more as he looked around him at students that he’d befriended over the years. He longed for the days past when there wasn’t the danger and death that his world now encompassed. Everywhere he looked there was devastation. It wasn’t just the bodies, either. The grass was red with the blood that had been spilt by both good and evil forces. Death Eaters, students, Order members, and DA members alike had died that day. There was even the body of the Dementor Moody and Garrison had killed. The grand stand that once surrounded the Quidditch field had completely collapsed, ending even more lives before their time. Passing by many classmates, Harry’s heart leapt as he saw the one he had been so close to stopping.

Dropping to his knees, Harry’s tears fell on the body of Hagrid, whose once joyful and spirited eyes now held an eternal, blank, lifeless expression. Next to his body, as if to further the irony and pain of not being able to save his friend, the Golden Snitch lay, dead as the giant next to it. Harry stood and looked around, seeing through his blurred vision so much death. How could someone do this? he thought to himself. Now he knew what Voldemort was capable of. Now he knew why they called him the Dark Lord. And now he knew what it would take to stop him: a miracle.

Glancing a few feet from him, Harry recognized a familiar broomstick cleaved in two. It was Ginny’s. Frantically, Harry ran through the field, each step soaking his robes in dew and blood. His heart stopped at the sight of a body with long red hair not three meters from him. He walked slowly up to Ginny, falling to his knees once more. Harry picked up the girl’s body and held it to his chest, howling in the pain his heart had no way of expressing. Wrapping his arms around his fallen friend, he noticed a heartbeat that wasn’t his own.

“Ginny? You’re alive!”

Harry lifted Ginny and carried her to where his other friends were. Ron was just as scratched up as Hermione was, both bruised and bleeding. Neville had a broken nose and several fingers bent backwards, but he wore a look of determination. Ricky was limping but seemed to be alright. Several other members of the DA gathered to where Harry was standing, shaken and hurt, but still standing. Harry was in the worst shape of them all. His arm was broken in three places; one of the bones had pierced the skin. Until it was pointed out to him, he didn’t notice it. Ron had to help him carry Ginny after that. The Order was now gathered around a clearing in the field. Lupin waved them over vehemently. When they were within the confines of the group, he spoke.

“Let’s get back to the castle. There’s nothing more we can do at the moment. We’ll return later.”

Voldemort had the first strike, and he hit so close to the heart that Harry was not able to stop crying the entire walk back to the castle. Hogwarts, his home, had suffered the most devastating attack in its history, the number of casualties over three dozen. The hatred of the Dark Lord could be felt by everyone still breathing, as the air seemed instilled with the emotion. In Harry’s heart, what was left of it, he knew that things would be even more desperate now. The remaining Horcruxes were no longer a priority, but an obligation. He could not allow this to happen again, especially to those closest to him. He refused to allow it, and vowed to find the way to gain a measure of vengeance against the one being he hated more than anything.

Chapter 13 �“ Parting Ways

The remaining survivors of the first strike against Hogwarts all gathered in the Great Hall immediately after the attack, waiting for someone to walk in and tell them it was a dream, or that everything was going to be alright. Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, even Harry Potter would suffice, but somebody. They yearned for some form of comfort. Harry did indeed walk in, as did the rest of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army, covered in battle wounds and all wearing devastated and discouraged looks on their tragically cheerless faces. Harry and Ron were carrying Ginny while Lupin and Garrison carried Minerva. Several others were levitated in by Flitwick and Slughorn. Moody was doing all he could just to stand straight, weeping in view of everyone for the first time.

“Hogwarts isn’t safe anymore!” shouted one student.

“What do we do?” asked another, horrified.

The amount of anxiety and terror in the room was immense. It could be felt in the air, much like Voldemort’s hatred was felt outside on the field of death that was once the Quidditch playing grounds. Many students were crying in huddled groups, mourning their fallen friends and professors. All of them were scared. Lupin called the Order members together, excluding Harry, and they all made small cots appear across the Great Hall. Moody closed and sealed the entrance with several spells as the ceiling displayed a modest quantity of soothing and dimly lit candles, floating in the air.

“You are safe here,” said Garrison, hovering a few feet off the ground so as to be seen by everyone. “We will stand watch all night so you will not be harmed. Please, don’t panic. Professor Slughorn has several vials of sleeping potion that Madam Pomfrey will serve you all, and you will have a dreamless sleep. This will give you relief from the events of today for a few hours while you rest.”

One by one, the students lay in their beds and drifted to sleep after drinking the potion. Harry refused the concoction when it was offered to him, but insisted that Ron and Hermione take it. Once the students were asleep, the Order of the Phoenix met in the front of the room where the Professors’ table usually was during meals. Moody was limping his way to the front. He stopped in front of Harry, tears on his scarred cheeks.

“Walk with me, Potter,” he said, putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading him to where the Order’s meeting was commencing. Both were surprised to see Minerva sitting up in her bed at the head of the group. She was just as scarred and battered as the rest, but seemed to be fighting her exhaustion.

“Well, as we feared, the defenses of Hogwarts are weaker than ever, as was proven by this...this heinous attack on our school. We all lost many we care about. I don’t think this school will be the same again without Hagrid...”

Many sobs filled in the following silence as the Order members tried to comfort those around them while shedding tears themselves. Minerva fought back tears several times before continuing.

“There should be a memorial service for those who did not survive later in the week as a way of saying good-bye to them.”

“What do we do now?” asked Tonks, who was seated next to Lupin, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Well, we will...we...I...I just don’t know anymore.”

“Let’s keep the Order here at all times,” said Garrison, apparently taking charge to relieve Minerva. “Also, close as many of the outlying wings as possible, leaving only the center part of the castle active. Gryffindor tower will house the rest of the students minus Slytherin house, which can stay in the dungeons. The rest of the wings need to be closed and sealed magically by the Ministry so no one goes through them. That will at least allow us to have some control over where the students will be. No one will go through the halls without an escort, nor will they ever leave their wands.”

“Have every class teach self-defense tactics as it pertains to their field of expertise,” added Professor Slughorn, who was passing by the group while attending to those who were wounded. “That way, the students are able to at least defend themselves long enough for help to arrive. What do they know so far?”

“Ask Potter,” replied Garrison, and the group looked at Harry.

“I’ve been teaching most, if not all, of the three houses other than Slytherin what I’ve learned from Professor Moody and Professor Garrison, and they were using it today. I thought I would have more time to show them what they needed to know, but I failed. I’m sorry...”

“Because of you, Harry, most of the students here are alive,” responded Minerva. “They were scared, but capable of defending themselves. I’ve heard reports from the Order members here of those spells you learned and taught being used on that field by several of your fellow classmates, and for that I’m so proud of you. Don’t blame yourself for any of this.”

“But it’s my fault!” cried Harry, tears starting to flow again. “It’s my fault Voldemort attacked here. Because of me, all these students are dead. I couldn’t stop the Dementors. I wasn’t strong enough. And now Hagrid’s...he’s...and I still haven’t found those Horcruxes...I...”

The Boy Who Lived collapsed in sorrow as the Order surrounded him in a warm embrace, comforting him. Lupin handed Harry the potion for dreamless sleep and, with some coaxing from every member of the Order, Harry agreed to take it. Garrison walked him to a cot before sitting him down and handing him the potion. As Harry was taking it, he heard his professor mutter something to himself. When Harry fell asleep, the words rang in his memory:

“You’re almost ready.”

---

Five days following the horrific attack, those remaining at Hogwarts gathered around a burial site. A list of thirty-two students and seven faculty members was listed on a large wall in the center of the group. On the left side of it was a stone bearing the name HAGRID, and on the other, the White Tomb. This division of Hogwarts was the most heartbreaking of the school, housing so many memories. The Quidditch site had been completely burned and cleaned prior to the memorial.

“There isn’t a single person standing here that has not lost someone they love this past week,” began Professor McGonagall. “Their lives were taken before they had a time to shine. They were casualties: casualties of a war they didn’t start nor wanted any part in.”

The Headmistress spoke for a time about each of the deceased, allowing all their moment of remembrance as Dumbledore had three years prior upon the death of Cedric Diggory. When she came to Hagrid, she had to pause to collect herself and hide the pain from reflecting on her face. After a moment, she spoke about him as well. Every student shed tears remembering the half-giant with a heart bigger than his body was capable of holding. Minerva spoke of Hagrid’s loyalty, his love for the students and teaching, his devotion to the school, his pets (which made some students smile), and his memory. To Harry, it was beautiful to hear about his oldest companion in such a favorable mention, though it killed him to think of the reality that had befallen this friend.

After the ceremony had completed, the students were allowed to speak on behalf of someone who had died. Harry refrained, as the pain was too much to handle. Many students told stories of their friends’ triumphs; others shared a funny moment that had happened in the past. These anecdotes brought tears and laughs to everybody, allowing them to remember their friends in a good light. Once the last student finished, Lupin stood.

“Most of you remember me as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from a few years back,” he said. “Today, I come before you as a friend and for counsel. Hogwarts has never experienced an event as terrible as this. It is a first, and it is time for another first. I know all of you are scared. Your families are concerned about you, and the professors agree with me that this next decision should be yours to make.”

The students gave Lupin their undivided attention, not sure what he was going to say next. Harry was also curious, as he missed the last half of the Order meeting.

“You all have two choices. You can stay here and complete this year at Hogwarts, standing beside the rest of your friends and continuing with your studies. Or you can leave now and return next fall, should Hogwarts be open at that time. If it is not, we will transfer you to Eton for the next term.”

Everyone started talking amongst themselves, shocked at what was happening. Many stood up and began to walk away, but the professors stopped them.

“Please,” said Lupin, “don’t leave just yet. We’d like to know exactly who will be going so there is no confusion. Therefore, if you plan on leaving, please step to the front and wait until we have your name. Then you will be dismissed as a group to begin packing your things.”

Several students stepped forward. A huge group of Slytherins stood and walked smoothly to the front. There were no tears on their faces; only deceit in their eyes. Dean Thomas stood and walked to the front. Seamus Finnigan followed him, as did the Creevey Brothers. One by one, the students formed a group in the front consisting of more than forty students. As the last student stood and began to walk to the front, everything became quiet. Every professor was shocked. The students couldn’t believe their eyes: Harry Potter was leaving Hogwarts.

“Why did you go up there?” shouted Ron when they returned to Gryffindor tower. He’d practically dragged Harry to their dormitory, Hermione following closely.

“You can’t leave!” he continued. “You’re the one who has to protect us! And now, when we need you the most, you’re going to leave us wide open to another attack! You’re just going to quit! Why?”

“You really can’t leave, Harry,” agreed Hermione, a look of furious determination on her face. “We need you just as much as you need us. You said you wouldn’t walk alone anymore, and yet you want to leave.”

“Will you let me explain?” asked Harry calmly. Both of his best friends crossed their arms, expressions of impatience on their faces.

“You see, I’m not �“”

“You can’t leave!” shouted another voice. The trio turned around to see Ginny standing in the doorway. Just as she shut the door, Harry noticed a bunch of other students crowding behind it to hear his reason of departure.

“The war hits close to home, and you turn and run? Who do you think you are? You’re certainly not Harry Potter. The Harry I know wouldn’t do that,” said Ginny angrily. Harry sighed and asked the three of them to sit down.

“I’m not running away,” he began. “Don’t you see? I’m the reason he attacked. Voldemort’s trying to make me fight him now. That’s why he struck when he did. He knew the defenses would be down.”

“But how?” asked Hermione. “No one outside of Hogwarts knew about that.”

“I don’t know, but somehow he knew when to attack.”

“And how to attack,” added Ginny. “He knows that we’re your friends, and the best way to get you to go right where he wants you to go is to threaten us. And that’s exactly what you’re doing. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not exactly wrong,” explained Harry, “but you’re not exactly right, either. I need to find two more Horcruxes. I can’t find them and study at the same time. I need to use all my time to find and destroy them so I can fight Voldemort and get this over with. I’m running out of time. Who knows what he’ll do next? I can’t let this continue like this, and the only things in the way are those Horcruxes.”

“He knows,” whispered a voice. Harry looked around the room, trying to locate the source.

“Don’t try to avoid us by looking around the room, Harry,” yelled Ron. “Is that the only reason?”

“You didn’t hear that?” asked Harry, bewildered now.

“Hear what?” asked all three Gryffindors.

“Never mind,” Harry said, fearing that his assumption to the source would in fact be right. “I can’t protect you if another attack happens here or away from you. My time will be better spent away from Hogwarts. I’ll have the Order behind me. I hope you’ll be there with me, too.”

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all looked surprised at his last statement.

“I do need you guys, now more than ever. I need you to watch out for one another. Three people have more of a chance in a duel than one on one with a Death Eater.”

“But it’ll never be one on one, mate,” interrupted Ron.

“You’re probably right,” replied Harry. “But you’ll be alright. You did great a few days ago, and you’ll be fine if something else should happen. Besides, you’ve got the Order of the Phoenix here.”

“But we won’t have you,” said Ginny softly. Harry didn’t have a response for that. He ruffled his hair with his hands, thinking of what else to say, but words had escaped him. Desperately, he tried one last time.

“If I stay, he’ll attack again later. If he hears I’m outside of Hogwarts, it’ll at least get his attention somewhere else, which will keep you safe. He doesn’t have any more reason to attack here if I’m not present.”

“How is he going to know?” asked Hermione.

“The Daily Prophet will hear about my departure,” Harry replied frankly.

“You’re crazy,” said Ron, now looking outside the window. “Brilliant, but crazy.”

“Ron’s right,” agreed Hermione. “If you make it seem as though you’re scared, that will buy you some time while Voldemort chases you. Oh, but Harry, what if he finds you?”

“I won’t be alone,” replied Harry. “Moody’s going with me, as is Lupin.”

“So when are you leaving us?” asked Ginny sadly.

“Not until after the holidays,” said Harry cheerily, forcing a smile on all three faces looking at him. Their anger slowly dissipated as they embraced their friend. They would miss him undoubtedly, but Harry knew what he had to do.

The next day, Harry had Hermione help him in the library. She was utterly shocked when he asked her to help him research something, but agreed immediately.

“What are we looking for again?” she asked after searching through several shelves.

“It’s a spell Dumbledore told me to look up called the Silhouette of Eternal Benevolence. It was in his note. He said it might help against Voldemort.”

“Well if Dumbledore says it will help, then it must be powerful.”

The pair looked through the library many times over and found one article in the restricted section that said simply:


The Silhouette of Eternal Benevolence is a legendary spell cast by Nicodemus Bastion Ricus many years ago. No trace of its existence has ever been found.


“Well that’s helpful,” exclaimed Hermione as Harry slumped in his chair, shaking his head.

“It has to exist,” he said, sounding desperate. “Why else would he tell me to find it?”

“Harry, even great wizards like Dumbledore are wrong sometimes,” consoled Hermione. “I’ve never heard of a spell that exists that has never been performed before. I mean, every spell leaves its mark either on someone, something, or in the memory of the wand. If there’s no trace, it cannot exist. Are you sure you read the name right?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve read that note at least a dozen times.”

“I don’t know what else to say, Harry. Try asking the professors.”

Harry did just that, and asked every single one. Only one had heard of it, and that was Moody.

“It’s a legend, Potter,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. It was one of the many spells that was rumored to have great power but was never cast.”

Harry walked out of Moody’s office very discouraged.

“I should just give up,” he said aloud.

“Good choice,” whispered another voice. Harry looked up, shocked at the timing of the comment. It was this exact hallway that he’d heard a voice whispered like that his second year. He called out for another reply, but did not receive one. Wondering if he was hearing things, he tried again.

“Something wrong, Harry?” asked a third voice. Harry had almost run into Ricky Li.

“No, I guess I was hearing things,” replied Harry.

“I was surprised to hear you were going,” said Ricky. “The school just seemed to feel safer with you in it. I’m going to miss the DA meetings.”

“Yeah, so will I. You did very well during the...well...the battle. I hadn’t seen anyone jump like that before.”

“Oh, you mean the kicks? Those I learned from a Muggle defense course back home. I can teach you some of the basics if you still want to learn. I do seem to recall us planning something of that sort, so if you’re still interested...”

“Sure.”

The duo walked into the Room of Requirements to train. Ricky showed Harry some grappling techniques, such as throwing and getting away from a hold. Harry also learned a few punches and kicks. After a while, Harry looked at Ricky peculiarly.

“Why did you learn this?” he asked. “When will you ever use this sort of fighting? That’s why you carry a wand.”

“True, if you’re in a duel, it’s pointless. But trust me, it has its uses when you don’t have a wand. It’s saved my life before. Muggles will often try to pick a fight with me because I’m smaller, and it really helps then. If anything, it was an interesting way to spend an afternoon before you leave.”

Ricky smiled, and Harry couldn’t help but smile back. They walked out of the room and went their separate ways. Harry shouted the last DA meeting’s time to Ricky before he was out of sight.

The next day, Harry heard the ethereal voice again, this time catching a peculiar quality about it: it was not English, and no one else could hear it. It was a voice of ice-cold venom. He felt like he was experiencing déjà vu, and went searching for the voice again.

“You’ll never win,” taunted the voice, moving away from Harry, who started to follow it. Running down the corridors, he pursued the source of the Parseltongue. He paused every once in a while to listen, hearing the movement in the walls. Harry continued to run after the voice, coming to an all-too-familiar bathroom. Knowing where he had to go, he walked into the room and to the sinks in the middle.

“Open up,” he said in the same cold voice as his mysterious guest. The sinks sank into the ground, revealing a large pipe. Harry jumped down, sliding through a series of pipes until he landed on the damp, dark stone floor. He stood, dusting the slime and dirt from his pants. When he looked up, a fanged head shot out of the same pipe at him. Harry ducked and rolled out of the way, drawing his wand.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouted, but the spell flew back at him. Harry dodged the spell, but by the time he got up and through the rubble that had collapsed the entryway since his last visit, Nagini was no where in sight. Harry spent a couple hours sorting through the caved-in path, finally squeezing his way through. He recognized the scene in front of him. This time, however, the doors were open, since no one had been there to shut them since his last visit. He wandered through the passages, finding the Chamber of Secrets entryway. It was completely dark.

Upon entering, Harry shouted “Incendio Maxima!” This lit every torch in the chamber. Nagini sat coiled and ready to strike at the end of the aisle next to the dead carcass of the basilisk. Harry walked up to her in stride, hoping it would hide his fear. He didn’t know how to win this fight, as no spell or potion could kill this serpent.

“You can’t win, boy, so give up,” said Nagini, nasally laughing.

“You’re the reason Voldemort attacked when he did,” said Harry in Parseltongue. “You’re the spy. But how did you get in here?” He looked around, noticing the water. “Of course, the lake.”

“The boy is not so unintelligent,” replied the snake. “You’ll never be rid of my master, and this will be the end for you.”

“It’s been ending for quite some time. He can’t hurt me much more. He’s taken away everything.”

“Guess again!”

Nagini lunged at Harry, who was standing about ten feet from the giant snake. Harry rolled out of the way, stood up, and shouted a curse at the snake. It bounced off her scales back at him. Dodging the spell and another attack, Harry concentrated on his hatred for Voldemort and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” The snake was hit with the green spark and flew back several feet, not moving. Harry approached his fallen enemy slowly. He stood over her, kicking her still body.

There was almost no time to react. The snake turned over, drew herself up to a height of at least eight feet, and dove for Harry. He rolled out of the way again, aiming his wand at his opponent. Before he could say any spell, however, the wand was whipped away from his hands by Nagini’s tail. The snake wrapped around Harry three times in a vice-like grip that took his breath away. He could feel his arms and legs quickly going numb as he became light-headed.

“Fool! No spell can kill me! Some warrior you are! The reward my master will give me for destroying the famous Harry Potter will be great.”

“What makes you think...you’ll kill me here?” asked Harry, forcing the words out as best he could.

“I’ve already beaten you. Now I will watch as the lights leave your eyes, just as my master did with your parents years ago.”

Harry felt a growl build up in his very core as his anger began fuming. He would not let a servant of his enemy defeat him, let alone talk about his parents in that manner. Harry’s body began to shake. He felt his nose and mouth start to extend in front of his eyes, covered in golden fur. His muscles seemed to strengthen and enlarge as his hands grew claws and padding at the end. His weight knocked him and Nagini over. Looking at the snake, Harry tried to bellow. The only thing that was heard was a ferocious roar.

Nagini saw Harry grow a mane covered in gold and black hair and the look in his eyes change from scared and almost lifeless to determined and angry. She tried to uncoil and escape, but before she could, Harry put a massive paw on her body. Nagini turned around and attacked, biting Harry’s shoulder. The lion growled in pain, releasing her. She slithered as fast as she could into the water, Harry right behind her. Having four muscular legs underneath him, he quickly outran the snake. This time, Harry grabbed her with his tooth-filled jaws and threw her back onto the walkway in the center of the room.

Leaping from the water like the big cat he was, Harry sunk his teeth into Nagini’s neck. Out of horror and pain, Nagini started biting Harry’s body wherever she could, drawing blood from many places and injecting venom into his body. Harry let go again in anguish. As Nagini reared back and lunged once more at Harry, he grabbed her neck close to her head. The snake desperately grabbed his neck as well. The two animals stood locked for what seemed like eternity in the throws of their fierce battle. Harry started shaking the snake in his mouth, sinking his teeth deeper into her until Nagini could barely breathe. Still struggling, she released her bite and tried to wrap herself around Harry. He reared up and stomped on her body, shaking his head the whole time.

With one last pull, Nagini stopped moving and she breathed her last. Harry didn’t move for a while, making sure the snake was dead. After a few more seconds, he dropped Nagini and started walking. Then it occurred to him that he couldn’t climb out of a pipe: he had four paws, not hands and feet. He remembered Professor McGonagall telling his class that she would have to transfigure them back to their original state the first time. So he wandered the chamber for a while, searching for a way out.

It took Harry a long time to find an outlet. When an obvious exit did not present itself, he started looking for the obscure. There was a crack in the floor a distance away. It was buried underwater, and it was the deepest point of the chamber. Deciding to explore, Harry held his breath and waded into the murky abyss. He wasn’t able to see a thing, so he swam to the bottom and used his paws to see what he could find. There was a crack, alright, and a sizable one that apparently belonged to a pipe.

This must be where the water from the lake comes in, thought Harry. With this in mind, another thought came to him. This was the way out.

Wishing he were a sea creature instead of a lion, Harry returned to the surface of the water and grabbed the snake. He took as much air as his lungs would allow and dived down, swimming fast. As it turned out, being a lion underwater wasn’t too bad, as Harry could swim a bit faster and hold his breath longer than he could as a human. He found the broken pipe and wiggled his way through the crack. Journeying through the pipe, though, wasn’t as easy as he thought.

The space was tight, since he was a lot bigger than normal with a giant snake in his mouth. It was no wonder Nagini didn’t have any problems getting around. After a few hundred feet, Harry saw the end of the pipe. It was still about fifty feet away, and then there was the assent to the surface of the lake. His head was already feeling lighter than air, and he was almost out of breath. If that wasn’t enough to worry about, there was also the fact that the snake venom was making him a lot weaker. He would drown in a few minutes. With a renewed effort, he struggled through the pipe, exhaling as little as possible.

The pressure was intense around him and inside him. If he wasn’t breathing on his own, the venom was making him. Finally out of the pipe, he pushed off the bottom of the lake, swimming desperately for the surface. He was now out of air. At the last possible moment, his head emerged and he took in as much air as he could. Exhausted and growing weaker, he swam to the side of the lake and lay down. He would get no rest here, though, as the toxins in his body continued to drain him. Harry heaved his body back on all fours and began to walk towards the castle in the distance.

It took several minutes to reach Hogwarts, and Harry growled in relief. He couldn’t expect anyone to know it was him, though, without at least having somebody go with him to Professor McGonagall. In addition to that, he still had to destroy the soul fragment in the snake. With the last burst of energy his body would allow him, he bounded through the corridors of the castle, ignoring the screams and scared students as he approached Gryffindor tower. Hermione and Ron were just climbing out of the portrait. Speeding up, he shot past them and up the stairs to his dormitory.

“What the bloody hell’s going on?” Ron said. Harry turned and saw both his friends standing in the doorway with their wand out, pointed at him. He tried to speak, but with a giant snake stuffed in the mouth of a lion, all that could be heard was muffled growling. When they didn’t seem to understand his pleas, he leapt onto his bed and lay down, swishing his tail back and forth.

“Harry?” Hermione said in a perplexed voice. Harry stood and walked to the scrolls lying on his chest at the foot of his bed. He put his front paws on them and motioned for Hermione to approach with his head. With her wand still out, she walked over and opened the scrolls. She looked at him after reading them.

“It is you! This must be your Animagus form! Wow, how did you do it?”

Hermione wrapped her arms around the huge cat. Harry tried and failed to do the same. Hermione laughed, and drew back. When she did, she noticed there was blood on her robes.

“Harry, you’re hurt!”

“What happened?” asked Ron.

Harry couldn’t answer. He could barely stand. He walked towards the door. It took several trips of walking back and forth from the door to the scrolls for him to convey the message that he wanted his friends to take the scrolls and follow him. After they grasped this, Ron grabbed the scrolls and followed as Harry led him and Hermione to the gargoyle in front of McGonagall’s office. His steps grew heavier the closer he got to the statue. When he reached it, he collapsed.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, dropping to her knees at his side. She desperately called for help as Ron started banging on the gargoyle. Seconds later, it leapt out of the way and Professor McGonagall came out of the doorway.

“Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley, what on earth are you �“”

“Professor, please! It’s Harry! He needs help!” shouted Ron.

“Goodness, is that Potter! And that snake in his mouth...no, it can’t be! I’ll go get the Order right way!”

Before she left, Minerva knelt down next to the lion. She pulled the snake from its jaws and ran her hands through the gold and black haired mane. After whispering an incantation, the lion transfigured back to Harry.

“My boy, you certainly have the courage of a lion, and you may have saved us all with your bravery. Come with me, you two. We must get Mr. Potter to the Medical wing at once.”

“Professor, Harry wanted us to give you these,” Hermione replied, handing the scrolls to Minerva.

“I’ll know what to do with those,” said Mad-Eye Moody, who apparently was eavesdropping behind the corner. He grabbed the scrolls and walked up to Nagini.

“Get Potter to the Medical wing. I’ll tend to the serpent,” he said.

Ron and Hermione each took one of Harry’s arms and dragged him away, following Minerva. All three turned when they heard an odd sound and saw an orange form emerge from the snake as Moody was waving his wand around, then saw sparks fly as he destroyed it.

Chapter 14 �“ The Greatest Gift

The venom and exhaustion kept Harry unconscious for almost a week. When he had awakened, his entire body was very sore. He was also alone in the hospital wing. As he sat up, he noticed a number of cards had been left for him. Most were get well cards from the Order and other students. There were also the expected notes from his friends. The one from Hermione explained the aftermath of his black-out: Moody had destroyed the Horcrux inside Nagini and McGonagall had explained the situation to the students (leaving out the Horcrux part). Another was from Ginny, saying she hoped he was alright and that she wanted to talk to him. The final note was from Remus Lupin, telling Harry the Order had a gift for him this holiday season.

A chill flew down Harry’s spine. He looked outside the window and noticed it was snowing. Gingerly, Harry stood and walked towards the opening for a better look. The grounds were covered in a sparkling white sea of frost and snow. The lake had frozen over, and the wind was blowing modestly.

“You shouldn’t be up and about just yet,” said Madam Pomphrey. She grabbed Harry’s arm and led him back to his bed.

“Give yourself time to recover. It’s a wonder you’re still alive. If you hadn’t been an Animagus...I don’t want to think about what would have happened. When I got to you, your body temperature was way below normal, venom was coursing through your veins, and your heart had practically stopped. Be grateful for your friends. And do be more careful next time, alright?”

This final part she added with a smile before she left Harry to his thoughts. Though he was sore, he felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. After all, there was only one more Horcrux to go before it was over. One more obstacle before this nightmare would end. With a content grin, he leaned back and fell asleep.

A week later, Harry was released from the medical wing. Though he felt much better, his friends had not been permitted to see him while he was on bed rest. Now, as he walked through the halls, he noticed everything seemed fresh and noticeably more cheerful. The smells of pine and gingerbread flooded the castle. The Great Hall had a huge tree in it, towering twenty feet tall, and decorated to the brim. There was snow softly falling from the ceiling and a harp playing yuletide songs magically in the corner. Several students waved him down, and he went to speak with them.

“How was it down in the Chamber?” one asked.

“How did you turn into an Animagus?” asked another.

“Will there be any more DA meetings?” asked a third.

Harry turned and saw Neville for a brief moment before his friend gave him a hug. Harry laughed and returned it, grateful he was alive and well.

“There will be one more before the vacation time,” he explained.

“But we’re on vacation time now,” said Neville. “You were in the hospital for two weeks, and they let us go earlier this year.”

“Oh,” was all Harry could say in response.

“So are you really leaving?”

“Yes, before the start of next term,” replied Harry.

“Well, if you need any help...”

“Thanks Neville. I should be alright, but if I need anyone, I’ll let you know.”

Harry winked at his friend and walked away. The hallways had a different appearance than he remembered before. There was garland everywhere, and holly above each archway. Wreaths decorated the knights in the corridors. Some of these halls had red plasma covering the entire entryway with an inscription written in gold: CLOSED FOR PROTECTION. Harry remembered Garrison’s suggestion of closing parts of the castle after the Quidditch tragedy.

As he neared Gryffindor tower, he saw Hermione and Ron coming from another hallway holding hands.

“Harry!” Ron exclaimed. The two practically jumped on Harry in excitement. The trio was all smiles.

“How are you?” asked Hermione.

“Much better now,” replied Harry, looking from one of his friends to the other in a peculiar way.

“Apparently I missed more than I expected,” he said with a devious grin. Hermione’s face turned crimson as she smiled shyly and turned away. Ron put his hands in his pocket and looked for a window to give his attention too. There weren’t any, of course. Harry laughed emphatically.

“So McGonagall let everyone leave early this holiday?”

“Yes,” replied both Ron and Hermione, noticeably relieved the attention was off them for the moment.

“I can’t believe you did that all on your own,” said Hermione in her usual tone, hitting his arm. “We were so worried about you.”

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” said Ron. “Let him enjoy his success! I wish I could have been there.”

“I’m glad you weren’t,” said Harry as the three walked through the portrait. Over the next half hour, Harry told them of what had been going on since the Quidditch game. During his story, Hermione and Ron’s faces went from shocked to horrified and back to normal.

“But now that Moody destroyed the Horcrux in Nagini, there’s only one left,” concluded Harry.

“And that one will be the hardest to find, most likely,” said Hermione disparagingly.

“He’ll find it,” said another voice. Ginny had just walked into the room. She was dressed in her best clothes and had her hair pulled back into an arrangement Harry absolutely loved. She looked beautiful. Hermione started to walk away, all the while Ron was trying to ask Harry more questions about being an Animagus. After clearing her throat a number of times, Hermione whispered something in Ron’s ear before shoving him towards the portrait hole. Finally grasping the situation, Ron grinned sheepishly.

“Well, er, we have to, uh, meet up with, uh...who are we meeting again?” Ron asked Hermione. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, pulling him through the portrait. After Harry turned his attention to Ginny again, Hermione whispered a short charm with a smile before exiting herself.

“Now that we’re alone,” began Ginny, walking closer to Harry, “how are you feeling?”

“Alright, I guess. I’m still a bit sore, though.”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

“So you heard me talking to Ron and Hermione?”

“I caught the end of it, yes,” replied Ginny, fixing her eyes on the floor and blushing slightly. She seemed to be acting odd as well. While she was looking away, Harry couldn’t help but stare at her. Never before had she looked this amazing. Her perfume was intoxicating, her hair flawless, and her shyness had captured his complete attention. Ginny looked up and met Harry’s gaze, which made him turn away. She giggled, while Harry ruffled his hair, trying to find something to say.

“I, uh, got your note,” muttered Harry after an awkward silence. “You said you wanted to tell me something.”

Ginny looked as though she wanted to say something, but seemed to second-guess the notion. Instead, she blushed even more, making her face almost as red as her hair. By now, Ginny was only a couple feet away from Harry. She smiled and looked above them. When Harry looked up as well, he noticed a peculiar plant had appeared and was hovering over them.

“Ginny, what is �“”

Before Harry could say anything else, Ginny closed the remaining distance between them, put her hands on his face, and kissed him. Taken aback, Harry had to remind himself to breathe as he slowly realized what was happening. He wrapped his arms around Ginny, kissing her back, lost in the moment. The two stood under the mistletoe for a few seconds longer before Ginny pulled back, keeping her arms around Harry’s neck. She looked deeply into his eyes, waiting for him to say something. Harry smiled slyly.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” he said. “I’m not sure I completely understood what you said.”

Ginny laughed as Harry pulled her in for a second kiss. As he closed his eyes, the room felt like it was swirling in the most magnificent way possible. His heart raced as his mind focused only on Ginny. With lips locked together in their warm embrace, Harry remembered back when he first kissed this girl in his arms. He remembered wanting her so much, and again he felt a tinge of guilt as his heart brought the pains of the Quidditch match to mind.

Harry pulled away, facing the floor and turning his back to her. Ginny put her arms around him gently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that, Harry. Talk to me.”

Ginny put her hand on Harry’s cheek and pulled him around until he was facing her. She kept her hand touching him and asked again for him to talk to her. Harry put his hand on hers, entwining their fingers. Her hand felt so smooth in his as he slowly pulled it away. This time, though, he didn’t let go.

“Ginny, this is what I want more than anything.”

“Then stop pushing me away,” she said with a smile, and tried to kiss him again.

“I can’t.”

Ginny stopped what she was doing and forced Harry to look at her. When he couldn’t meet her glance, she pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms, turning her back to him coldly. Harry felt even guiltier, and had to stop himself from putting his arms around this girl he had fallen in love with.

“You think I can’t defend myself, don’t you?” said Ginny, her voice unsteady. “Well I’ve lived just fine without you by my side, Harry. I’m still here. I’m still alive. Anytime someone has tried to hurt me, we’ll exclude my brothers from this, you’ve been there to help me. But in the end, we’ve fought together. When we stand side by side, we’re stronger.”

Turning around, Ginny faced Harry again, tears falling from her eyes.

“But you won’t give us a chance, just because you’re afraid of �“”

“Afraid of losing you,” Harry said, cutting her off. “I thought I lost you in that Quidditch match.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to become emotional. While he could hide the tears, he couldn’t keep his voice firm, nor could he stop himself from shaking slightly.

“You were lying on the ground, covered in blood. I couldn’t see you breathing when I got to you. And I wasn’t there to help you. You could have died, and I wouldn’t have been able to save you. Don’t you see? If you’re far away from me, no more harm will come to you, or your family, for that matter.”

“But I don’t want to be safe, Harry. I want to be with you.”

Harry struggled with his words, not knowing what to say. He was unsure if he should confess his feelings, ask to start over again, or just walk away.

“If you really want us to be together,” Harry started after a while, “then wait for me. This is almost over. I have one more Horcrux to find, then I have to kill Voldemort. And I will kill him. Please, Ginny, don’t give me that look. I want to be with you, too, but I can’t risk losing you. Just the thought was too much to bear a few weeks ago, and I won’t let it happen.”

“If that’s your decision...,” said Ginny, looking away from Harry. She was silent for a time before she turned around.

“...then I’ll wait.” Ginny smiled sadly as she walked up to him and pulled him into a hug. “I’d rather be with you later than never with you at all. I choose us.”

Harry had so much emotion going through his body at that moment he didn’t know what to do. He was happy with what Ginny had said, but having this girl in his arms made him want to be with her even more. Cursing himself, he kept his thoughts on the future.

A few days later, Harry awoke with his friends sitting all around him on his bed. They were still in their night clothes. Trying to figure out what was happening, Harry sat up and grabbed his glasses.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We wanted to spend the whole day with you,” said Ginny.

“That’s kind of you, but you see me everyday. What’s so different about today?”

“It’s Christmas, Harry,” replied Ron.

“And we’ve always spent it together before,” said Harry, still confused.

“Well...this might be our last Christmas together,” said Ron slowly.

“And we wanted to spend every moment of it with you,” said Hermione with a warm smile. “Happy Christmas!”

With that, Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him out of his bed. The small tree in the commons room had several gifts under it that the group had placed there, as they were usually at the foot of each bed. They laughed and enjoyed their moment, sharing gifts and joys with each other. Ron and Ginny started talking about Christmas at the Burrow before they attended Hogwarts, detailing how Fred and George would find some way of embarrassing Percy and racing to open their gifts first. Since they were twins, their expressions would often mimic the other, which made the gift opening that much more amusing for the rest of the family.

Hermione told stories about her family and their Christmas. Being from a Muggle family, she had different experiences. Her whole family got together: grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and other close friends. Her parents would decorate their house, inside and out, with lights and trees and angels. It was a joyous time for them. There was even a time where her grandfather dressed up as Father Christmas and handed out gifts to everyone. His disguise was so convincing she couldn’t tell it was him until she was older.

Harry didn’t have many Christmas memories other than those his friends had shared with him. There was no definitive ‘Christmas moment’ he had ever experienced. He was Harry Potter: miracles did not happen for him at this time of year. Though he kept this to himself, he knew his friends shared the knowledge. He was content with that.

As the quartet was talking and laughing, the portrait opened and the Order of the Phoenix walked in. They were dressed in their holiday best as well, each wearing a smile. Minerva made a few chairs out of thin air with her wand as Alastor started a warm fire. Lupin was there, as was Tonks, Garrison, and several others.

“You don’t mind if we join you, do you?” asked Lupin with a smile, as the group sat down. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all sat on the couch facing the Order. There was an extra chair, for some odd reason.

“Not to interrupt, but we wanted to see how you all were doing,” said Minerva. “All things considered, you four are the heroes of Hogwarts. We also have a gift for each of you as a way of saying thank you.”

“The first,” began Tonks, whose hair was done up like a Christmas tree, decorations and all, “goes to Ron, for his bravery in battle, saving his friends, and being a source of comfort and strength to his fellow students. Happy Christmas.”

Tonks pulled out a small cage, wrapped in a thick material. Ron took the fabric off to reveal a young phoenix. Rather than the traditional red, though, it was a dark shade of green with streaks of gold and blue in its tail. Taken aback, Ron opened the cage door. The phoenix shot from its cell, squawking merrily around the room before landing on Ron’s shoulder.

“Why did you give me this?” he asked as he stroked the bird’s chin.

“You’ve never had an animal of your own,” said Tonks. “You were always borrowing your brothers’ rats or owls. Now you have a creature to call yours. You have to name it of course, but we chose a phoenix because it is loyal to its master, even past his death. He will help you whenever you need assistance, as well as never die.”

“Thank you very much! But I have no idea what to call him.”

The group became silent, each thinking of a name. Though several were called out, none seemed appropriate. Then Garrison spoke up.

“How about Aegidius?” he asked.

“Agidi-what?” replied Ron.

“Aegidius was a rebellious warrior in both the Muggle and Wizard worlds, fighting for those who had no voice of their own. He was a hero, and later called a saint. I think that name would suit this creature well.”

“Aegidius...I like it,” said Ron. “What do you think?”

The bird spread its wings and puffed its chest out proudly, squawking again.

“He certainly is talkative, isn’t he?” said Tonks, as the group laughed. Minerva stood with a smile and approached Hermione.

“The next gift from us,” she said, “is for Hermione. You have proven time and again just how incredibly gifted of a student you are, and have always been the most valuable ally to your friends in their time of need. This gift is for you. Happy Christmas.”

She handed a silver plate, about an inch thick and no bigger than the palm of Hermione’s small hand. It looked like something that was left over from making one of the knights in the school.

“Um...thank you?” Hermione said, sounding confused and disappointed. Minerva smiled and told her she had to tap the top three times while it was on a flat surface to see what it did. Hermione did just that, and was amazed with the result. The room was seemingly transported into a library, with thousands of books.

“What you do,” explained Minerva, “is think of a book you’re looking for. It doesn’t have to be a specific title or author, but a subject or word, even. Think of that, and the library will search through all its books to find it. What’s unique about this device is what it contains: every book ever written in the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. We included both for you, since you are Muggle-born. Some of these books never saw their words published. Give it a try.”

Hermione shut her eyes and thought of a book she had read several summers ago. It had a very distinct cover picturing a woman in long robes with her wand out, pointing at a mountain which had been lifted off the ground. Though the book was fictitious, it was inspirational, and caught Hermione’s interests. When she opened her eyes, there was one book, set aside from the others, right in front of her. She pulled it out and looked at the cover, which was exactly as she’d pictured it. Shocked, she opened the book and started reading it, remembering the story as she skimmed the first few pages.

The Order all smiled at her response to the gift. Minerva also explained that she could tap the surface of the plate three more times to leave the library, but she could take any of the books with her and read them as long as she wanted. Hermione thanked her vehemently as she walked back to her seat. Alastor stood and limped over to where Ginny was seated. She stood, waiting to see what they had brought her.

“Ginny Weasley,” said Alastor, “you have passion that is seemingly without limit. You also have a big heart. Finding a gift for you was not so easy, but in the end, we felt you should have this. Happy Christmas.”

Alastor pulled out a necklace in the shape of a Pegasus. It was polished gold, and had a light that seemed to radiate from within the stone itself. Ginny pulled her hair back and put the necklace on. After she did, she admired it in her hand.

“This necklace is one of a very few ever made. The stone used to make it is very rare, and has a power unlike any other. It was found in the shape you see, the winged horse. While wearing this necklace close to your heart, you can ascertain the location of any person you think about. They could be on the other side of the world, or in the next room, but the necklace will find them and show you where they are. Since you care so much about your friends and family, we thought it best to give you such a gift.”

Ginny tried to think of her parents, and closed her eyes. After a few seconds of blackness, she could see herself almost floating over a vast distance until she arrived at the Burrow. She saw her parents with Fred and George around their own Christmas tree. The vision was so clear she felt she was standing there with them. When she opened her eyes, she saw the Order and her friends again.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, giving Alastor a hug. He patted her shoulder, not knowing how else to react. When Ginny let go, he returned to his seat. Harry stood, knowing he was next. He became discouraged, though, as the Order became very serious.

“There is nothing more we here can give you, Harry,” said Remus. “You have been a gift for us to teach and watch as you progress in your abilities. Yet in terms of gifts, as you have lost so much, we were unable to find anything. However, there is someone who I believe can offer you something you greatly desire.”

Harry’s face went from downcast to intrigued in a matter of seconds, wondering who this mystery person was.

“It took several months of searching to track him down, and this will actually be our first meeting with him, the same as yours. Harry, I’d like you to meet Aberforth Dumbledore, long time member of the Order of the Phoenix and brother to Albus Dumbledore.”

As the room turned its attention to the portrait, a man stepped into the light. He was tall, almost the exact height of Albus. He was also older, long grey hair and a longer beard. Though he was thin, he had an aura about him which denoted power and wisdom. Harry stood in respect as Aberforth approached him and his friends. Alastor stood as well.

“It’s been a while,” he said shortly, shaking hands with the older man.

“Indeed,” was his simple reply as he continued towards Harry. He was carrying a thin package under his arm, which he placed gently on the floor to shake Harry’s hand.

“Many years I have waited for this moment,” he began in a deep-toned Irish accent. “It’s not every day when a man meets a legend. I have been fortunate enough to meet two other than you, and they were truly great men. My brother was one. The other is the man you will be facing in the future.”

“You’ve met Voldemort?” asked Harry.

“I met him before he was powerful...and afterwards as well. A rather unfortunate thing to say, but true nonetheless.

“Now I understand this is our first meeting, and it is not customary in this day and age to bring a gift upon initial introductions. However, in an older time, which perhaps may reoccur, it was a custom. Thus I present to you this gift.”

Harry looked eagerly at the parcel on the ground. After a pause, he looked back up at Aberforth, who had a bemused look on his face.

“I’ll get to that in a moment, young man.”

“Sorry,” said Harry.

“There’s no need for apology,” Aberforth chuckled. “The gift is actually an invitation which you have the power to turn down if you choose. As I have been told, you have undergone some special training in the Dark Arts and Healing this past term. Have I heard correctly?”

“Yes, Professor Garrison and Professor Moody have been taking me aside for several months now.”

“And you have done well, from what I hear. The Ministry of Magic has also been given reports of this training, as they have a keen interest in you and the Prophecy you are involved in, which I know of from my brother. Once word reached the Ministry about your decision to leave Hogwarts, they contacted me and asked if I would personally invite you to join them.”

Harry could not keep his face from looking as shocked as ever. Could this really be happening? First becoming a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and now this!

“If you will it so, henceforth you will be known as Harry Potter, the Auror, on the condition that the Aurors at the Ministry complete your training in the stead of your instructors here. While you are formidable, there is still much to learn. We can do that at an accelerated rate in comparison to Hogwarts, as well as show you things that cannot be shown in a school. Do you accept this invitation? Think on it for a moment before you answer.”

Though Harry knew his answer immediately, he thought of the possibilities. Without the Aurors behind him, it would take a miracle to find the final Horcrux, let alone Voldemort. With them, he could have their help not only in his search, but against the Dark Lord himself. He would also have the job he had wanted for many years. Looking towards his instructors, he saw their encouraging and proud smiles. His friends shared their expressions, and his decision was made.

“I accept,” Harry said confidently.

“Excellent! I was hoping for such a response. There is one more gift I have for you, as you noticed upon my entrance. This will forever hang on the walls of the Headmaster’s office, where it truly belongs. However, its first appearance will be to you personally, as no doubt you have many uncertain feelings for the future.”

“As well he should, Aberforth,” said a voice that sounded all too familiar. Aberforth smiled as he picked up the parcel and lifted the sheet covering it to reveal a canvas with none other than Albus Dumbledore!

“Professor!” Harry shouted, echoed by his friends and the members of the Order.
“Yes, Harry, your eyes do not deceive you. I take it you received my letter from Fawkes?”

“Yes, I did,” replied Harry. “It helped a lot.”

“Have you had any luck with the last portion of it?”

“Erm, not so much.”

“There is still time, so do not panic. I need you to do something for me, Harry. Do you recall the room beyond the library where we once had a conversation during your first year?”

“Yes,” Harry responded after searching his memories for a time.

“I would be very grateful if you would revisit that room before you leave these grounds. This is a most dangerous time for you. Listen well to the Aurors, as they will help you find your way. Many things lie in your path that only you can overcome. Keep those you trust close, yet never lose sight of what is at stake. The time is near for the final battle. You must be prepared for anything. If you should ever need my counsel, you can go into Professor McGonagall’s office. She will see to it that you always have the password. Best wishes, Harry.”

Aberforth put the sheet over the canvas shortly after their conversation before saying his goodbyes and walking out of the portrait hole. Remus assured Harry that Aberforth would be at his side for his training to provide his own counsel and advice. A few minutes later, the Order left as well, leaving Harry and his friends to themselves. Though the next week was enjoyable, Harry felt as though a large burden was left on him that would not leave, and it always seemed to be strongest when he was having the most excitement. When the rest of the students began to arrive, Harry knew his time at Hogwarts was over.

Walking through the stone corridors one last time, Harry took it all in: the knights in their armor along the sides of the hallways; the Great Hall, with its tables prepared for the first feast of the spring term and the enchanted ceiling reflecting the cloudy sky with glimmers of sunlight highlighting the room in a warm glow; the medical wing, with Madam Pomfrey attending the latest victims of holiday overeating; Snape’s dungeon; the Dark Arts room, where Moody was resting in his own office; the gargoyles leading to Dumbledore’s old quarters, in which so many of his memories lay; looking out of a window, he saw the green pastures of what was formerly the Quidditch field, the White Tomb, and further to his right, the Forbidden Forest, which brought a smile to his face. There was one more place he had to visit, to keep his promise to Dumbledore.

He found his way through the library, passing several students as he walked into the Restricted Section. He briskly journeyed to the room beyond that section, where he once beheld a treasure to him that was taken away. As he searched the room, he noticed a giant structure with a canvas over it. He pulled the canvas away to reveal that same treasure: the Mirror of Erised.

He approached the mirror, knowing the story of a man content with himself and the image it would show. When he walked up to it, however, his heart leapt. It was not just him, but his parents. His family was there, as well as his friends. Dumbledore and Sirius were there as well, smiling. The Order of the Phoenix stood in the foreground, confident expressions on their faces. Even Cedric Diggory was present. Harry stood staring for a long time, engraving the image permanently in his mind. This would most likely be the last time he would ever see them again. Breathing deeply, he threw the sheet back over the mirror and exited the library. Finally, after his last tour of the school, he approached the Fat Lady’s portrait leading back to his dormitory. The woman was crying.

“It’s been grand, my boy,” she sobbed. “It really has. Do be careful once you’re gone. We’ll miss you.”

This last statement was echoed many times as Harry looked all around him. Every portrait character had gathered in that very hallway to wish him farewell. He looked several stories high, seeing thousands of people he had seen over the course of seven years. Many of the canvases had ten or more people in them so all could see him off. He smiled and waved, thanking them for their good-byes. As he turned around, he nearly fell down the stairs from shock. Nearly-Headless Nick was right there for the same purpose.

“I say, dear boy,” he said in his comical tone, “you really must get used to my entrances. It’s been how long now?”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, his hand making sure he still had a pulse. “Nick...thanks for your help while I’ve been here.”

“You have much to be thankful for, Harry, and I should say my little quirks are at the bottom of that ever-elongating list. If things...don’t turn out the way you plan, perhaps you could return to the castle and keep me company for the next few hundred years or so. The Baron, though amusing at times, can be a bore, and the other ghosts �“”

“Thanks, Nick, but I think I’d prefer to rest if things don’t go as planned. I’ll see you around.”

Harry walked around the specter and through the portrait. His friends were all standing in a line to his left as well as the Order. The line ended where his luggage was, packed the previous night. As he walked down the line of professors and Order members, each gave him well-wishings and advice. Several gave him a hug, while others shook his hand. Each had tears in their eyes. At the end of the line were the friends that made Harry almost change his mind.

Neville was first. He seemed to want to say something, but words were failing him. Harry shook his hand, giving him as much of a smile as he could. Ginny was next, and she held him in her arms as tight as she could.

“I’ll be waiting,” she whispered fiercely, kissing his cheek before pulling away. Harry locked eyes with her and nodded, his smile already fading. Hermione also gave him a hug, encouraging him to write to her as often as possible and telling him Hogwarts would never be the same with him gone.

Harry’s smile, voice, and strength had left him by the time he reached the last person in line; his first friend. His best friend. Both seemed to glance around the room uncomfortably, not wishing to say their farewells. When they finally faced one another, Harry extended his hand. Ron pushed past it into a hug. He pulled away a moment later with a determined look on his face.

“We started this thing together. All these years, we’ve fought side by side. I look forward to finishing this next to you when the time comes. I’ll be there, I promise.”

Harry nodded, grateful for his friend’s loyalty and determination. The two shook hands firmly before Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Aberforth leading him towards the parcels he had packed away. His friends behind him, Harry stood at his full height and walked forward, shrinking his bags to fit into his pocket as he went. He did not look back. There was no need. He would return. His friends would see him again. Not friends, Harry thought, the hint of a smile resurrecting on his face, family.

Chapter 15 - The Tip-Off

Remus ran into Harry’s room at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place shortly after hearing an ear-splitting scream. He knocked the door open to see Harry, eyes as wide as they could be, sitting up in his bed with his legs completely straight in front of him and his arms locked behind him. When Remus tried to move him, he noticed Harry’s muscles were so tense that it was not even impossible to bend one of his arms by hitting it. Harry was almost hyperventilating by this point. Remus started shouting for the rest of the Order living with them to help him. Garrison was the first on the scene. He analyzed what was happening and slowly pulled Remus away from Harry, advising him to let it continue until it ceased. Tonks came up seconds later, along with Aberforth, who also advised waiting for it to stop. The four stood in stunned silence for several minutes, staring at Harry’s frozen form while listening to his labored breathing.

Suddenly, Harry flew back to the head of his bunk as if hit by a disarming curse. He scrambled out of the bed and onto his feet, backing away from the mattress as though it was a dragon. When he bumped into the Order, he screamed again before realizing he was awake and they were there to help him. He collapsed, covered in sweat from head to foot and still breathing very quickly. Several seconds later, he revived and the Order carried him back to the bed. Harry’s eyes were going everywhere, as if to check each corner of the room and every shadow for an attacker.

“Harry, what on earth just happened?” asked Tonks, holding his head in her hands, which forced his gaze to focus on her. Harry looked as though he had seen death in person, for the fear in his eyes was very evident. He was now shaking slightly, and did not answer.

“Move aside,” said Aberforth in a stern voice as he pushed his way past Tonks to sit next to Harry. He looked at the boy eye to eye and began speaking in a calming voice.

“Harry, do you know where you are?” When Harry did not answer, Aberforth tried another question.
“Do you know who you are?” Again, there was no response. Harry just stared into nothingness as if hypnotized. Aberforth exhaled slowly, seemingly trying to find a way to communicate with Harry without the use of spells.

“Harry, did you have a dream, or a vision? You do not have to speak. Just nod your head once if you had a dream, or twice if you had a vision.”

After waiting around ten seconds, Harry nodded the first. Aberforth sighed, noticeably comforted with the response. However, a few seconds later, Harry nodded a second time. Aberforth looked at the other Order members in surprise before turning back to Harry and muttering a sort of incantation. It was time for answers, and Harry seemed unable to do that on his own momentarily. After the spell was cast, Harry visibly calmed down and closed his eyes.

“Harry Potter, this is Aberforth Dumbledore. I want you to tell me exactly what you saw just a moment ago.” He waited and watched intently for almost a minute before Harry spoke.

“I found myself lying in darkness. There was absolutely nothing around me. I started walking around to try and find a way out. I saw a tunnel leading up, so I started to climb. There were rocks and dirt blocking the way, so I pushed them aside and pulled myself out. When I looked around, all I could see was destruction. It was everywhere. Flames and smoke burned what was left of buildings. I started walking, but stopped after a few steps when I saw a pile of bodies. Their eyes were open, but there was no life in them. As I looked up, I noticed there were more than these. All along the street, there were thousands, each was no longer living. Some were crushed by parts of the buildings that used to stand in this city. I carefully walked through the street, trying to avoid stepping on anyone.”

“So what happened?” asked Garrison.

“Do not speak!” said Aberforth, focusing his attention only on Harry as he continued.

“I saw a man in a black robe. He was walking around the buildings and on top of people. I started to follow him. When I got closer to him, I felt cold. It became hard to breathe, as if the very air I was breathing was filled with a poisonous hatred. I kept quiet, sneaking closer to the man. He was heading towards a building. It was the only one still standing. It had pillars in the front and two giant doors. The roof extended a great distance from the entrance, ending in a pointed arrow just above where an enormous staircase began in front of the man. It was tall and had no windows, yet seemed to reflect whatever was outside. I’ve never seen a building like it before.

“The man noticed me several times, and began walking faster. He practically ran up the staircase, which was very long, to the front doors. A guard tried to stop him from entering the building. He pulled out a wand and used a powerful curse on him before throwing him down the stairs. That’s when he noticed me, and we locked eyes. I’ll never forget those eyes. They were stained with blood, a hint of yellow beneath. He didn’t have a nose, just two slits to breathe into. He looked like a serpent.

“He screamed my name and hurled the same curse at me. His voice sounded strange, almost like it was another language. When I dodged his curse and had my wand out to return the attack, he was running into the building. Again, I followed him. I stopped next to the guard. His eyes were as lifeless as the bodies I passed on the street. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt sad. As I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed the building seemed to change. The closer I got to it, the more I saw its uniqueness. When I was finally close enough to see my reflection, I looked in amazement: I was not alone. I saw my whole family, my friends, everyone in the Order. Everyone I missed and wanted with me. Looking around, they were no where in sight, but they were waving at me through the wall. I was curious, so I went in.

“There were books everywhere. I have never seen so many. I looked closer to the ones nearest me, and saw they had every topic imaginable. I did not see anyone inside for some time. When I entered a dark corridor, I felt the air become tense again. I noticed a door at the end, so I walked in. The man was there, holding something, and I stood quietly behind him. He didn’t notice me, so I walked toward him, wanting to get a closer look. It was...I can’t describe it. Something powerful. I knew he shouldn’t have it, so I ran up to him and grabbed it. We fought for it evenly for a time before I gained control and threw it to the ground. When it broke, I heard the man get up and start shouting. As he said the curse again, I ran out of the room and closed the door. I could feel the power of the spell, but the door blocked it. I started running as fast as I could. For some reason, I did not have to look over my shoulder, as I knew exactly where the man was. It was as though I had a third eye that was watching him at all times.

“I felt an odd feeling inside me, as though something unseen was calling to me. I ran down different corridors, the feeling getting stronger, until I finally felt I’d past it. As I was backtracking, the feeling came back. It was getting more profound, and I stopped when I felt it was the strongest. I looked at a huge shelf of books, which was where the source had to be. The feeling was so intense I almost had no strength left of my own. Yet I felt compelled to find the source. Then I noticed a book that was sticking out more than the rest.

“I pulled it out and started looking through its pages. It read like a diary, with different spells and incantations that I had never heard before. My eyes were drawn to one, and I read it as quickly as I could. A page before I finished reading the article, I felt him. The man was coming this way. There was no more time. I closed the book and started running again. I saw someone else a little ways down. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. Whoever it was smiled at me as I came closer. Then the man in the black robe hurled the same spell that hit the guard outside at this person, and they fell to the ground. Terrified, I started running in the direction where I came from. I could sense the man coming in my direction, and knew there was not much time.

“I saw a ladder, so I called to it and it came to me. I started to climb just as the man rounded the corner and started sending curses at me. I shot one at him which seemed to tie him with invisible ropes as I continued to climb.

“I could feel his anger fill the air again. He was starting to get free of the curse, so I began to climb faster. I reached the top before he freed himself. The man was now hovering to the top of the bookshelf.

“He was almost halfway up before he pulled something out. It was something familiar, but I couldn’t place where I had seen it. It was some sort of ancient weapon that was never used anymore. A feeling came over me: a different feeling. One of knowledge and strength. I threw the book at the man, who destroyed it with a thought. When we were level, he pulled out the weapon and threw it at me. I used a spell and it disappeared. Then he spoke, saying it was over for me, and the future was his to claim. I told him it wasn’t and held up my wand.

“We exchanged curses multiple times, once more, we were evenly matched. I saw one of my spells knock him over the top, and I thought I won. The man pulled himself back up, though, and I started feeling pain all over me. After he stopped, I could barely stand. I tried to think of the spell he had used before. For some reason, it did not work, no matter how hard I tried to use it. The man knocked my wand out of my hand and pushed me back to the ground. He shot his curse at me, and everything stopped. A bright light surrounded me and I felt myself falling from the bookshelf. That’s when I woke up.”

Harry’s eyes shot open and darted to every corner of the room. When he the Order standing beside him, he calmed down.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he asked. “Thanks for checking on me, but I’m alright.” With that, he fell back asleep, seemingly not remembering anything of what just happened. The Order was left standing there dumbfounded. All except Aberforth, who slowly rose to his feet.

“Come,” he said, “we have much to discuss. This is more than I ever imagined it could be.”

When Harry woke, it was midday. Stretching, he felt as though he had slept very little, but he was not sure why. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where Aberforth and the others were talking.

“Sorry,” he said, “I must have overslept.”

“On the contrary,” said Aberforth, “you did not sleep enough. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Harry sat down in the middle of the group, looking at all of them. Each had concerned looks on their faces and confusion in their eyes. Curious, Harry asked them why they were looking at him like that.

“Harry, do you remember anything from last night?” asked Remus.

“I remember waking up in the middle of the night with all of you next to me, but nothing else out of the ordinary,” said Harry. “Why? Did something happen last night that I should remember?”

“Bring your Pensieve here, Harry,” said Garrison. “There’s no need to explain the whole thing to you when you can just watch it.”

Harry grabbed the Pensieve and set it in the table. Aberforth instructed Harry to recall the moment he woke up with them next to him and imagine whatever happened before that. He told him to pull out that memory. A moment later, Harry pulled a silver strand from his temple and placed it carefully into the bowl. Aberforth encouraged him to peer inside. Harry complied, and a few minutes later, he slumped back into his chair.

“What does that mean?” he asked, noticeably shaken by the recalled memory.

“That’s what we’ve been discussing since you told us that story, Harry,” said Tonks. “We’re not really sure what it was.”

“Though I have a hunch,” said Aberforth, a dark tone to his voice. “It’s not clear what happened, as I have never seen anything like it before, but the best I can think of is that you had a vision. You matched the symptoms almost perfectly, except for the stillness and difficulty breathing. Visions are common among those with the Seeing Eye, but those without, such occurrences are very rare. In fact, I do not believe there is one recorded case of it happening to someone without that gift, which is why this seems almost impossible. But there is no other way to explain it. What the vision entails, though, baffles me even more.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, nervous from the memory of the vision and the questions unanswered as to what it could mean. He knew he did not have the Seeing Eye. His scores in Divination could attest to that. Yet apparently he did have one, and it was not something that he looked forward to seeing come to fruition.

“You said you came out of a dark tunnel and had to fight to get out. There was a lot of destruction and death immediately in your path, which led to the man in the black robe. That man has to be Voldemort, and I believe this to be so for a number of reasons. According to your description of him, he matches the man in the black robe exactly. Additionally, he has left both death and destruction in your path all your life. You followed him, as you were meant to do. He saw you, as he has in the past. You both walked towards the building. Therefore, the staircase must be the time between the present and the final duel that is to come.”

“Which is inside of a library?” Harry asked.

“I am confident it was not a literal library,” explained Aberforth hesitantly. “Though I’m not entirely sure, I believe it was some combination of elements that are to take place between now and that final battle. The events to come may play out in a similar fashion to this.”

“But what events?” Harry demanded, getting more worried and confused with each passing second.

“I do not know,” said Aberforth after a moment’s thought. Harry’s gaze fell to the ground, a look of defeat on his face.

“Then what good does this do?”

“Until we can decipher everything from it, nothing,” said Garrison. “Not all visions come true, though, and most are usually just a preview of possibility. In any case, after it is solved, it may give us a glimpse of what may happen in the future.”

“We will not wait for that moment, however,” said Aberforth, his voice growing stronger again. “That is why your training starts tomorrow.”

“That soon?” asked Harry, surprised.

“We are obviously running out of time, Harry. If we do not get you ready for this duel, there’s no telling what evil might befall us, not to mention the rest of the Wizarding world, leading up to that final battle. Therefore, I will go to the Ministry and find a few Aurors available. Rest up while you can today. Come tomorrow, you will experience instruction the likes of which you’ve never seen nor will ever forget.”

Aberforth was not lying, and the next day, Harry woke early for his lessons. Remus and Garrison Apparated the three of them to what seemed to be a training room. The white floor had several markers on it. There were stands to one side at varying heights and a sloping platform opposite it, which led to a host of odd objects. None of which looked very friendly, Harry noted. The wall in front of him contained glowing words of wisdom which changed every few minutes to other quotes from famous and influential Aurors of the past. Harry now stood in the center of this unusual room, seeing Dumbledore and Moody approaching him.

“That wall,” explained Aberforth, “is our way of remembering those who have gone before us. Many of these Aurors were the best of their time, and their wisdom was written as a way of forever respecting them and noting their strengths in order to add them to our own. In time, you will have these memorized, but for now, read them during your breaks from training.”

“This room is where the Aurors train their newest members,” said Alastor, picking up where Aberforth left off. “The stands to your left are at different levels. These stands serve two purposes: observation and variation. At first, we Aurors will observe your progress from those stands, getting several different angles and opinions on your performance so we can pinpoint exactly what you’re doing wrong and correct it quickly.”

“And the second?” Harry asked nervously.

“The second purpose,” he added with a grin, “is variation in combat. When you seem to have a grasp on what we’re teaching you on a level playing field, we create an un-level one. The stands hover and move in all directions, giving us infinite possibilities of height and placement of attacks. This, in turn, helps prepare you for attacks from all sides and become a better duelist.”

“What about the platform?”

“That platform is a different sort of test,” said another Auror, who walked in with five others, each dressed in blue robes and standing off to one side in a line. “One which you will face in time.”

“With that,” said Aberforth, “let the training begin.”

For the next several weeks, he was thrown across the room, cut open on practically every part of his body, bruised, battered, and mentally abused. The Aurors showed him no mercy in their teachings. They used every spell he was to learn against him, making him feel the pains and burns of their attacks. They also sent their thoughts into his head, clouding his mind and making it harder for him to concentrate on what they were actually saying. As a result, Harry missed most of their spells with his countercurses and blocks and felt the brunt of everything. At the end of the third week, Harry did not have enough energy to stand. Frustrated, he shouted at them.

“Why are you doing this to me? I thought this was supposed to be training, not abuse!”

“This is training,” said an older Auror in a stern but non-threatening voice. He extended his arms to both sides and hovered from the stand he was observing from to where Harry was standing on the ground. When he landed, he further explained what they were doing.

“You see, by performing these curses and spells on you, their power and effects are felt and known. You know exactly what each spell does, how that effect feels, and how to block it. If we instructed you differently, and you were hit with these curses in a duel, you would be shocked by the amount of pain inflicted, and the duel would most likely be over, as your concentration would be on the pain and not your opponent. By doing this to you, you are given the experience and knowledge of what to expect and how to stay focused. Now get up and try again.”

Harry’s abuse continued for another week. Though the team of Aurors was looking for the Horcrux, their main focus was Harry. After his training, one or two of the older Aurors would sit with him and teach him how to focus and close his mind. Alongside his Auror training, Garrison brought in some Healers, who helped him learn how to heal himself quickly with his wand. Then he was taught how to use Healing in the heat of battle without being hit with an unfriendly spell. Following his mastery of these, he was taught how to Heal just by his thoughts, which helped immensely. From all this training, Harry had developed the deepest of respect for the Aurors and Healers, and in return, earned theirs.

Aberforth was also a big part of Harry’s training. Though he would not duel with Harry, he taught him many other things vital in becoming a successful Auror. He showed him how to read an opponent’s movements to see whether or not he was going to throw a curse, a jinx, or a spell. He gave him several books to read with other techniques Harry never knew were capable of being performed by a human. Aberforth also taught Harry how to use Legimancy, which revealed to Harry which spells and curses were going to be used before they were performed. Harry told him about his duel with Snape the previous year, and Aberforth nodded in agreement of what the Potions Master had said. Until Harry could hide his thoughts and read those of his opponents, he would never win a duel, let alone one against Voldemort.

Harry’s life seemed to be a never-ending cycle. He was constantly moving from one teacher to the next. Each Auror had something new for Harry to learn that helped him become more successful. He was constantly told to read from books and memorize spells. When he thought he knew all the spells and curses in the world, they used another one on him that he did not know, which would throw him off. Each spell, save for Avada Kedavra, had a countercurse, and they showed him everything. The proper execution of the curses, pronunciation, stance, technique, and the possible errors if it backfired. They showed him how to counter a countercurse, which, as Harry learned, happened rather often in a duel. That was the most difficult thing to do, though, as he had to read his opponent’s mind while thinking the counter-countercurse. He was thoroughly confused for most of the time. He was relieved by one aspect of his training, though: whenever he had a question, he knew it would be answered immediately.

“I was wondering about something,” Harry said after one successful training session. “Why is the only curse without a countercurse Avada Kedavra?”

“No one has ever lived long enough to find one,” said one Auror.

“There have been many attempts at finding one,” said another. “Other than yourself, however, no one has been able to live through the full experience of the Killing Curse.”

Harry began to notice a difference in himself after a time. Not only was he more confident than he had ever been in his life, he felt he could beat someone in a duel. Unfortunately, this arrogance led Harry to a place he was not expecting. Once he thought he had their teaching routine memorized, they switched gears, taking a defensive position and letting Harry attack. Their countercurses were much faster than his, and he ended up getting hit quite a few more times than usual. Though he was learning quickly, the Legimancy was difficult to practice and master. It took time and dedication to learn, and Harry was naturally impatient. That was the first thing the Aurors noticed and worked to rid him of, along with his anger attacks and dumb-luck victories. They taught him how to fight, how to disengage a duel, how to evade detection through self-levitation and invisibility, and even a few spells he could use while flying on his broom.

“There is more to being an Auror than simply fighting,” said Garrison one day after training. “There is a mentality and responsibility to justice that is unparalleled in the Wizarding world also. Though I may not be one, I have worked with so many in the past. I have endured most of the spells you have been hit with recently. A few of them are new to me, too, however.”

“So what happens if I actually find this Horcrux,” started Harry. “Then I fight off Voldemort’s Death Eaters. Then, somehow, someway, I defeat Voldemort himself. What’s after that?”

“That’s something you’ll have to discover when the time comes. And I’m confident it will come, Harry. There is a flame in your soul that won’t be extinguished until this fight is over. I’ve no doubt of it. You really need to watch your anger, though. It can be your worst enemy in a duel. If you try to move too fast through a duel, or life in general, you’ll miss something that you’ll never get back again.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

Garrison did not answer. He looked away from Harry for a time before standing and walking away. As he was leaving, he said that Harry would one day hear the tale, but it was not yet time. That moment had yet to arrive. From then on, Garrison was less and less a part of the training. Healing was less a part of the training altogether.

After seven weeks, Harry was showing drastic improvement. He was still no match for an Auror one on one, but he could hold his own in a mock-duel with one for a couple minutes before he was beaten. One afternoon, Moody came walking into the training area quickly. He approached Aberforth, who had been watching Harry’s training intently from the lowest stand. As the two spoke, Aberforth’s expressions displayed his shock. He stopped the training and approached Harry.

“I just learned some rather interesting news from Alastor,” he started. “Voldemort has heard about the death of his snake and is checking his Horcruxes. The Aurors have noticed him checking the cave and the mountain terrain, which means the next one he’s going to check is the one you don’t have yet! He’s moving fast, so we must be ready. Prepare yourself. We may be able to end this tonight!”

Chapter 16 �“ Duel at the House of Riddle

No one noticed the eight broomsticks flying overhead as Harry, Moody, Garrison, Dumbledore, and four other Aurors soared towards where their sources said Voldemort would be. They knew not to Apparate, as that created noise and sudden movement. Brooms were a more subtle approach and gave them the advantage of silence. While the Aurors and Healer were pleased this nightmare could be over this night, Harry was overjoyed. He had the chance to get his life back. Though he was barely able to handle an Auror one-on-one at the present, he felt luck could be with him tonight against the Dark Lord.

The grassy hills gleamed in shades of silver from the moon’s light as the wizards drew closer to their destination. With each passing moment, Harry’s nervousness grew. Not only were they getting closer to the place where Voldemort was headed to, but it was a place that looked eerily familiar to Harry. When they landed, Garrison and Moody had to catch him to prevent him from crashing. Not here, Harry thought. Not again.

The eight were standing in the middle of a graveyard. A mist was hovering amongst the group, glowing a dim blue. Harry walked silently towards one of the tombs, fearing the name he hoped he would not see. Sure enough, as his hands brushed away the cobwebs, the name was exactly what Harry dreaded: RIDDLE.

“So we’re back where it all began,” said Aberforth quietly under his breath.

“What better place to end this evil,” said one of the other Auror, whose comments were followed by nods of agreement from his three peers.

“How do you want to approach this?” asked Moody, his wand already out and magical eye wandering everywhere.

“We have to assume Voldemort is not alone,” said Garrison.

“Quiet!” whispered Aberforth. All this time, Harry was walking towards the house of Riddle. He felt almost in a trance, looking at the building where so many horrific events had occurred in the past. In his mind, no matter what his team decided, it would end tonight. One way or another, someone would die tonight.

“Now then, what we need to do is make sure we’re always backing up Harry. He’s the one who has to…Harry? Harry! NO!”

Aberforth was still whispering, but he now noticed Harry walking ahead several hundred meters and ducking beneath the fence standing around the house. All eight wizards immediately silenced when they heard a popping sound and saw Voldemort Apparate not ten feet from where Harry was standing! Harry held his breath, knowing he could not engage the Dark Lord now and expect to win. He had to find that Horcrux first and destroy it. There could be no mistakes tonight.

Voldemort walked briskly through the main gate and around the building. When Harry started to move, he noticed movement to his side. Aberforth was trying to tell him to come back, but Harry refused. No sooner had this happened when several more popping sounds were heard and Aberforth disappeared. The Death Eaters had arrived! Quickly and quietly, Harry climbed over the fence and jogged to where he had seen Voldemort walk. He had to practically slam himself into a wall when he noticed the Dark Lord coming back. He had obviously heard the noise, as he sneered in the direction of the graveyard before turning back and running. Harry followed, remaining a safe distance away. He had his wand out, ready to make himself invisible at a moment’s notice should things go awry.

Voldemort walked up to a solid wall, shouted something in Parseltongue and waited. Harry held his breath, expecting a door or something to appear. Instead, nothing happened. Voldemort said something else, and still nothing happened. Yet the Dark Lord seemed undeterred. He said a third statement in the ancient language, and Harry unconsciously gasped. Luckily the hissing from the wall covered his sound. No door appeared, nor did the wall disappear. Instead, a horizontal slit appeared in the middle of it before the two sides parted in opposite directions. Voldemort walked in quickly, turning the corner and going deeper into the house.

When Harry reached the wall, he noticed how unusual it appeared. It looked like a snake’s mouth, with the two fangs hanging from the top. As he stepped forward, he noticed the opening starting to shrink. Quickly, he ran at the wall, diving just as the mouth closed. While flying through the air, he whispered a spell to silence his fall as he landed. Remembering what he learned from Ricky before he left, he rolled to his feet with his wand ready.

Harry stood still for a moment, listening for any movement or attacks. When he heard none, he started walking through the dark hallway. At the end, he noticed two staircases, one on the left, and the other opposite it. They both led up. There was a curious looking snake carving on the wall between the two. Perplexed, Harry said, Open in Parseltongue and the wall silently sank into the ground. As soon as Harry stepped through, it rose again behind him, sealing the exit. This set of stairs led down. Harry followed them. He found it curious that he did not have to light his wand, as there was a light coming from the direction he was going.

At the bottom of the staircase was a miraculous room. It had portraits of the four founders of Hogwarts, among other powerful figures of the past. None of them moved. Instead, each was frozen in place, looking almost terrified. No doubt this was one of Voldemort’s private chambers. Harry continued through the room, seeing sculptures and artifacts made from gold and other materials that looked almost transparent. Some rugs hung from the ceilings, similar to what the Great Hall did at Hogwarts. The difference was these rugs glowed with their own light: a pale green that illuminated the entire room. Through this light, Harry saw an exit at the opposite end of the room. Feeling uncomfortable, he quickly made his way there. This doorway led to another wooden staircase, this one spiraling upwards. Harry started to climb the stairs, pausing for a moment. He heard someone above him climbing the stairs as well. He was catching up.

Trying to avoid making a sound, Harry placed a spell on the stairs that avoided creaking. Unfortunately, since the stairs were so disjointed, he had to cast it on every plank. Harry stopped for a moment, scanning his memory quickly for any other spell he could use. He remembered the levitation spell, but he hadn’t mastered it yet. He could only go a small distance before losing control. Harry heard a door open at the top of the staircase, telling him that he was almost out of time.

“It’ll have to work,” he told himself as he whispered the spell. He watched as his feet were lifted from the ground. He tried to aim for the gap in the center of the spiral staircase, so he could go faster. Keeping a watch on both his movement and the stairs passing as he ascended, he felt the spell give out about a third of the way there. Just as he was about to fall, he cast the no-sound spell again, landing silently on the stairs nearest him. Confident he could get to the top rather quickly this way, he continued. After two more spells, he reached the end of the staircase, and the door. Wand directly in front of him, he opened the door with caution.

Voldemort was no where to be seen. He searched the room, but could not find the Dark Lord anywhere. Desperate, he looked out the window. There were several bodies lying in the graveyard, motionless. Harry almost shouted in anguish, but managed to hold his pain inside. The sooner he found Voldemort, the sooner he could exact revenge for everything. He looked down, seeing how high up he was. His gaze followed the side of the house up, noticing it went beyond where he was standing to a window a floor higher. There was another room above him! Quickly backtracking, he looked frantically for a trap door or hidden staircase. He found nothing. He ran back into the room and searched everywhere. There was nothing out of the ordinary, save for a tapestry hanging over an old closet. Sighing deeply, Harry put his hand out, expecting to feel wood on the other side of the giant cloth. Instead, the tapestry gave way.

Harry stopped himself from falling, climbing the steep stairs beyond the cloth carefully. He stopped at the half-opened door in front of him, holding his breath. He heard nothing on the other side, yet something told him not to move. After a few more seconds of this standstill, he heard someone walk towards the door. As silently as he could, he whispered the Invisibility spell just as Voldemort opened the door all the way and looked around. He looked straight at Harry, who wasn’t moving. Voldemort looked down the stairs, back at the door, and finally went back into the room.

Harry slowly allowed air to fill his lungs again after a few more seconds. He leaned forward to look around the corner, seeing the Dark Lord on his knees before a black box. It had six sides, making it unique in both appearance and dimension. This chest was surrounded by thick, heavy chains, which shared the box’s color and its foreboding, impenetrable feel. These chains were padlocked at every juncture and wherever the chain overlapped itself. Harry could only imagine the magic that surely guarded it as well. Wondering how Voldemort was going to undo everything, Harry sat silently. His head whipped behind the wall as he saw Voldemort start to look his way. Only when he heard his enemy fiddling with the chains again did Harry dare to watch.

Voldemort put his wand in an almost invisible crevice between the chains on the top right corner, saying an incantation that lasted a full two minutes. The top of the box seemed to disappear, a beam of red light shooting from where the metal had been. A folded vest levitated out of the chest, floating up the light as if it were a fountain. Harry looked on in wonder as the Dark Lord delicately placed his fingers around the object. Suddenly, the light then encompassed Voldemort’s entire body. This force, whatever it was, brought the Dark Lord to his knees, his grip on the vest tighter than ever. Though he seemed greatly weakened, Voldemort started to speak.

“I am Lord Voldemort. I will �“”

Before he could finish what he was saying, he started convulsing as the red light surrounding him grew brighter. Several beams of light shot through his body, making him scream loudly. It took several seconds for him to calm himself and rid the look of anguish from his face. Again, he tried to speak.

“I...I am Tom Movolo Riddle. My mother was Merope Riddle, the original owner of this vest, which she left to me when she died. Seventeen years ago, upon the death of an enemy, I put a fragment of my soul into this cloth and locked it in here, guarded by the most complex and dangerous of spells I could create. Tonight, I reclaim it. Veneficus Eximo Confundo Maledictio!”

The light brightened again, taking the wind out of Voldemort. The Dark Lord and the vest both began to hover, connected by the red light still emitting from the chest. Voldemort screamed as the vest was wrenched from his hands and wrapped around him. It wasn’t the cloth on him that made him scream, but it looked to Harry as though the vest itself was passing through the body of the Dark Lord.

Finally united, the light disappeared, dropping Voldemort to the ground. He did not move for a few seconds. The Dark Lord himself was glowing now. The aura of the powerful spell slowly dissipated as Voldemort started breathing again, and the beam of light emitted from the chest disappeared. Once everything was still, Voldemort opened his eyes. He stood to his full height and turned towards the door. Harry dodged the glance again, but something caught his eye. Voldemort’s eyes were no longer yellow: they glowed red.

Harry tensed up, waiting for the right moment. The Dark Lord started laughing maniacally, tilting his head back with his eyes shut. This was it. No turning back now. Tonight, Harry Potter would end this destructive conflict by taking out the one wizard who was the cause of everything bad that happened in his life. He silently undid the Invisibility spell. Gathering as much anger as possible, Harry stepped into the doorway. He froze for a second when Voldemort started to speak.

“You couldn’t find this one, Potter, and now you never will!”

“Damn, I guess I’ll just have to take it from you, then, won’t I?”

Voldemort’s eyes shot open as Harry ran full speed into him, driving his shoulder into the Dark Lord’s body and sending him to the ground. As Voldemort gasped for air, Harry started clawing at the vest around his adversary’s chest, trying to pry it loose. Voldemort pulled his wand out, ready to perform a curse. Harry, thinking on his feet, knocked it out of his hand and kept pulling at the vest. He heard his foe laughing.

“This vest cannot be removed from my body,” he taunted, bringing his knee to Harry’s stomach. Harry hunched over, rolling off the Dark Lord, whose wand shot back to its owner’s hand at the response of a spell. Seconds later, Harry felt pain igniting all over his body as the Cruciatus curse overtook him.

“You truly thought you could take this from me? You are more foolish than I suspected.”

Voldemort’s taunts were barely heard as Harry writhed in pain on the ground. He felt himself be levitated to Voldemort’s head level. The Dark Lord’s tone changed to one of faux compassion.

“Let us end this, Harry, tonight. Haven’t you suffered enough? Isn’t the pain too much to bear? The world criticizes you, insults you. They don’t care about what you do for them. Why are you still fighting? What do you have left to prove to them? Is it not time you stopped trying to be a hero and face the fact that you’re merely a boy who’s living a bad dream? Let me end it for you. You don’t have to do this any longer. Who needs this agony? Just give up. You’re no match for �“”

Voldemort never finished the sentence, for while he was talking, Harry was scanning his mind for the Cruciatus countercurse, which he executed perfectly. The torture curse shot back at Voldemort, sending him into a fit of convulsions on the floor temporarily. After Harry fell to the floor, he shot another curse at Voldemort, sending him into a pile of old wooden furniture. The force which the Dark Lord hit them broke the pieces apart. The next thing Harry had to do was dodge the flying splinters, as Voldemort exploded the wood in all directions away from himself. His eyes only showed hatred.

“Your skills have improved since our last meeting,” he said, no more humor in his voice. “At last, you’re ready to fight me.”

Voldemort shouted one of the curses Harry hated. Luckily, he reacted in time and was able to block it. He continued to block what Voldemort shot at him time and again, giving him more confidence. His opponent now looked irate, and Harry then felt as though his head were on fire. He dropped his wand and fell to his knees, his eyes watering furiously.

“I bet you didn’t know this one, did you?” said the Dark Lord. “This little curse I came up with myself. What do you think of it?”

Harry could barely comprehend what was being said. The only thought on his mind was to get to his wand as fast as possible. But his mind was being invaded with thoughts that weren’t his own. He saw members of the Order in the worst sort of torture imaginable. He saw his parents dying all over again. He saw Sirius being physically abused with curses. He saw Hogwarts in flames, followed by London. He opened his eyes, straining to see through the tears. Though he could not see much, he did, however, notice Voldemort was standing right next to him. Once more, he remembered Ricky’s lesson and swept the Dark Lord’s legs from under him. The spell was lifted, and Harry started for his wand. He heard the Killing curse being shouted just as he was about to reach it.

Quickly, Harry leaped and rolled, dodging the curse by mere centimeters. He grabbed his wand and shot out a curse of his own. Voldemort’s cheek was cut open and started to bleed profusely. Harry dodged two more curses before using the Levicorpus. The Dark Lord was turned upside down. Harry wasn’t able to hold him there for long, however, as Voldemort turned himself upright while still hovering in the air. He pointed his wand directly at Harry’s scar and started shouting an incantation.

Harry couldn’t move. He felt himself almost passing out. The pain was too horrendous to describe. Harry felt as though he was dying. He had no way of blocking this. Suddenly, his vision was taken away, and his world turned black. The pain remained, coursing through his body. He now felt blood trickling from his scar, matching the wound on his opponent’s cheek. His arm snapped in two, the bone piercing the skin. Then he was brought to his knees. Harry’s world became silent, with only the sound of him screaming in pain.

“Beg me for mercy and I’ll end it now,” he heard in his head. When he refused to answer, his pain doubled and the thoughts of his friends being tortured returned to his head, making him feel as though he were extremely dizzy. He heard Voldemort’s voice taunting him as well, describing in explicit detail how he would torture and kill all those Harry loved. He felt his mind being searched for those he cared about. Voldemort was using Legimancy against him, and he was powerless to stop it. He saw Ginny keeled over in agony. The image was so real it was as though it was happening right in front of him. Her eyes locked with his, tears pouring down her face. Harry was so enraged he shouted the first thing that came to his mind.

“Crucio!”

Everything stopped as he heard Voldemort collapse. Harry now had to choose between torturing his opponent and freeing himself from the curses that had been applied to him. He kept the Cruciatus curse on Voldemort a little longer before releasing it and reversing the blinding spell, which returned his vision. He Healed his broken arm and the puncture wound before using the Disarming spell, sending Voldemort flying against the wall once more. His opponent was fast to recover, though, and started sending curses at him again in a blur of movement. Harry was countering each of them, occasionally sending a few of his own. He even countered a few of Voldemort’s countercurses, surprising the Dark Lord. The two continued to move closer and closer to each other, finally meeting in the center of the room. They were separated by less than a meter.

Harry threw a curse at the same time Voldemort did. To block it, he wrapped his wand arm around that of his adversary and pulled, bringing them face-to-face, only inches apart. There were no signs of pain or regret: just sheer and unadulterated hatred. The only sound was breathing for a few seconds as both combatants regained their energy.

“You fight well, boy, but you won’t last. You can’t beat me.”

“Not yet,” Harry said, straining to keep the Dark Lord’s arm entangled with his for just a moment longer. “But you’ll find I have a few more surprises up my sleeves.”

With that, Harry started reciting the spell to release the soul fragment from the Horcrux around Voldemort’s chest. The Dark Lord started shouting, trying desperately to send thoughts of pain and other spells into Harry’s mind as a way of distracting him. This time, though, Harry had only one thought, and he wouldn’t stop. Reaching the end of the spell, he released Voldemort’s arm and kicked him square in the chest, which pushed him back and revealed the Horcrux.

Harry shot the spell at the vest. He heard his opponent scream again as an orange replicate of himself emerged from the piece of cloth. Harry waved his wand in the motions he now knew by heart, shouting the final spell. But Voldemort would not give up without a fight. He sent a curse at Harry, which interrupted him and sent him to the opposite side of the room. Harry watched in horror as the Dark Lord started a chant of his own, the orange silhouette slowly gliding back to the vest, which now looked as though it was on fire. Determined, Harry started speaking as fast as his mouth would allow, waving his wand once more in the pattern needed. He launched the spell straight at the vest just before the last part was reunited with the material. Sparks flew everywhere and light overtook the two as the last Horcrux was destroyed. Harry heard a scream of utter rage. When he could see again, Voldemort was standing with his wand pointed at Harry once more, the Killing curse already rolling off his tongue.

Harry stared at the tip of the wand, which now started to emit a green light. There was no countercurse for this spell that he could use, and there was no where he could hide. So it really will end tonight, he thought to himself. But just before Voldemort could finish the spell, the nearest wall exploded, sending wood fragments everywhere. A piece of wood hit Voldemort’s arm, sending the Killing curse through the roof. This filled the air with more splinters. Before Voldemort could recover fast enough to shoot off another spell, Dumbledore, Moody, Garrison, and three Aurors flew through the hole in the wall and landed between Harry and the Dark Lord. Each was already shouting a curse. Looking more enraged than Harry had ever seen him, Voldemort bellowed in fury as he raised his wand into the air and Disapparated, narrowly avoiding the host of spells hurled where he was standing.

The Aurors turned to Harry, who was shocked he was still standing. Not two seconds later, he heard a pop as an arm wrapped around his neck and a wand pointed at his chest. Voldemort had Apparated behind him, prepared to take his life right at that moment. Harry dropped to the floor just before the curse was finished, allowing the Aurors to execute their curses, which sent the Dark Lord flying through the wall and out of the house. He Disapparated in mid-air before he hit the ground. Garrison and Dumbledore helped Harry to his feet. Harry, who was now shaking, avoided eye-contact from anyone.

“Harry, did you destroy the Horcrux?”

Harry feebly nodded, which was followed by a loud cheer from the Aurors. Moody and Garrison both exchanged looks before making Harry look them in the eyes. There was no hiding it: Harry had changed during that duel.

“Now you know,” said Garrison as he grabbed Harry’s arm and helped him Apparate with the group from the House of Riddle.

The group flew back in silence following the night’s events. Harry did not speak again for several days. The amount of torture and the visions of pain he endured were too much to process and bear at once. He spent hours in his room, just staring off, remembering the duel. He knew it would be difficult to face Voldemort one-on-one, but he did not know how much he would suffer for it later. The Dark Lord was more powerful than Harry ever imagined, and it would surely take a miracle to beat him the next time they met.

The Order paid close attention to Harry over these few days, particularly Garrison. He was constantly asking Harry if he was alright or if he wanted something. Harry, taken aback at the sudden kindness from his harshest teacher, politely turned him down on each occasion. When he finally felt ready and confident enough to emerge from his room, he remembered Garrison once told him that he fought Voldemort. Curious, Harry looked for the man.

Unfortunately, Garrison had been called back to Hogwarts to teach a few more days. Harry would have to wait until the weekend. Harry returned to his room and took out several pieces of parchment. He wrote letters to Hermione, Ginny, and Ron, telling them that the final Horcrux was destroyed and that their problems were almost over. He intentionally left out all details of the duel between him and Voldemort, though he knew he would tell the story to them the next time they met.

Hedwig was more than happy to fly the messages to Hogwarts. She had been locked in her cage most of the time over the past couple months. As he watched her leave, Harry turned around to find Remus in the doorway.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked.

“Better,” Harry replied simply. Remus sat across from him on his bed.

“I know this is a hard time for you. There’s not much I or anyone else, for that matter, can say that will be of any comfort to you. You needed to know what you were up against, and you found out in the most effective, albeit dangerous way possible. You should have waited for the Order to assist you.”

Harry looked at the floor. The last thing he wanted at that moment was a lecture from a former professor, even one he thought highly of.

“In any case,” continued Remus, “you seemed to do well, so there’s no need for me to go on about what you should have done. What you did was further our cause and move us one step closer to not just ending the war, but winning it. It was a very bold and brave thing you did, Harry. Your father would have been proud.”

“Proud of me risking my life by going alone, or proud of the fact that I almost died?” asked Harry. “Or perhaps he would be proudest of the fact that this is still not over, and I’m the only one who can stop it? Not to mention that I couldn’t beat him.”

“Before you start berating yourself and others, let me ask you something. What was your main focus during that duel?”

“Staying alive,” Harry said, knowing it wasn’t the answer Remus was looking for.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Harry. In all seriousness, your focus was on the Horcrux, was it not?”

Harry nodded shortly.

“Then you should not worry about Voldemort overpowering you in the duel. Your focus was to destroy the Horcrux, and even though you had the biggest of obstacles in your way, you succeeded in doing that. Don’t you see, Harry? That’s why I’m confident you’ll do fine in the final duel. Once your mind is fully on Voldemort and nothing else, there will be nothing to stop you.”

Harry looked at his friend and mentor with a confident look on his face. He locked eyes with Remus, expressing his thanks for the words of wisdom without words of his own.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” said Remus, standing. “I’m downstairs if you need anything.”

A few days later, Garrison came back from Hogwarts. The first thing he did was check on Harry.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’ll be better if I can talk to you,” Harry replied.

“What about?”

“Your past.”

Garrison froze for a moment, a look of worry crossing his face. Harry was not done yet, though.

“Your real job, and your encounter with Voldemort.”

“You don’t realize what you’re asking me, Harry,” Garrison said, his voice shaky.

“Look me in the face and say that again,” Harry dared. With all he had encountered in his seventeen years of life, there was no excuse Garrison could use to back out of this. And he didn’t. Instead, he sat down in the chair next to Harry’s desk and took a deep breath, his eyes closed. He seemed to be almost afraid to remember.

“I need to know what happened.”

“My story,” he began, then paused for a moment before continuing, “is not as simple as telling what happened when I fought Voldemort. It goes much deeper than you could possibly imagine.”

“Then tell me about it,” said Harry. “I think I’ve earned the right to know. And anything about Voldemort that I’m not aware of will be useful. I’ve waited long enough.”

“That you have,” said Garrison. “Alright, I’ll tell you my story. But you must understand this was a long time ago, and many things have changed.”

Harry took a seat next to his professor and waited for him to start. All throughout the school year, he had heard of this duel between Garrison and Voldemort. Now at last he would hear about it from the man who actually fought with the Dark Lord and lived.

“First of all, you need not have any doubts as to my profession. I have always been a Healer. Yes, I know as much, if not more, about the Dark Arts as the Aurors, but I have never been one of them. They have their reasons for wanting me to join them, and their reservations for not allowing me to.”

“Why are they split? Was there something that happened in your past?”

“Something...no. Someone, most likely.”

Garrison now had Harry’s undivided attention.

“There were two dark wizards before you were born, Harry. The one you’re fighting now, and the one I fought when I was younger. Voldemort was wicked, yes, but at least he is spoken of. The other is not even mentioned, as the Ministry denies his very existence. Yet I saw him. I saw what he did, and I’ve never forgotten the extent I went to in order to take my revenge.

“You remember I told you to watch your anger? I also had an issue with anger. My own problem began before I met this wizard. His name was Aethelmaer, and he took pleasure in making his kills as grotesque as possible. He was powerful; more powerful than any other wizard I’ve ever seen. He was also very physically imposing. He had broad shoulders, was very tall, and wore a thick brown robe that encompassed his entire body. The most you could see of him were his hands and his boots. His robes would go flying about whenever he would duel, and he was so efficient and deadly that he not only never lost, but was never hit. At that time, I was around nine, living with my parents in the heart of Scotland. We received word that he was near our area, so my parents sent me to my aunt’s for a while. I was so worried about them, I sneaked out my window and walked back home.

“I saw lights coming from my house through the window. I knew they weren’t natural, but magical. From the colors, I knew they were spells I hadn’t seen before, and I had a hunch from the sounds coming from the house they weren’t from my parents. I was so impulsive that, without thinking, I drew out my wand and blew open the door. My father was dueling Aethelmaer in the main room. As soon as the dark wizard saw me, he locked eyes with me and I could no longer move my body. Somehow, he was controlling me with his mind while still fighting my father. I noticed a bloodied heap lying to my right. My mother...I can’t describe it.”

“Avada Kedavra?” Harry asked.

“No. That would have been at least bearable. She was...torn to pieces. Her blood was everywhere. I couldn’t hold her. I could not say goodbye. I couldn’t bloody move. When my eyes went back to the duel, I saw my father fall. I saw which spells were used on my mother. The same outcome happened, and I wanted to scream. Aethelmaer came towards me, blood on his robes and an evil gleam in his eye. He asked me if I wanted to fight him as he released me from his spell. I tried to attack, but he put his hand in front of my face and sent me flying across the front lawn.

“When I woke up, he was no where in sight. I had no where to go, so I ran to the streets of Glasgow, where I grew up. There, I learned the darker side of magic. I was desperate to kill the man who took everything from me. I would harm innocent people just to practice my skills and grow as a student. Once I learned the Killing curse, I searched for Aethelmaer. He was not hard to find.

“I stood up to him, sending every curse I knew, which, for an eleven year old, is not much. He toyed with me for a while before knocking me unconscious again. My anger grew. Before I could find him a third time, an old wizard approached me. He invited me to his school.”

“Was that Dumbledore?” Harry asked, surprised.

“No, I did not meet Albus until I attended Hogwarts. He was a professor then. No, the man I met was the Headmaster at the time. They could both sense there was some reason for my anger, but neither one knew how much I had suffered. During my years there, I met several others whose passions matched my own. A boy by the name of Tom Riddle was one of my greatest allies. He was the best student at the Dark Arts by a large margin. I trusted him, so I told him my story. Tom, in turn, told me his. Our pasts were both deserving of vengeance. He told me that, since we were friends, he would help me get my revenge, so I aligned myself with him and a few others.

“Whenever school was out for the summer, Tom and I would go down the streets of London, Belfast, and other cities, terrorizing Muggles. We didn’t kill anyone, but we weren’t above torturing someone for crossing us the wrong way. Each time I performed those curses, my hatred grew. One person I was torturing actually never recovered, as I imagined it was Aethelmaer, and the power and rage that came out of my wand was too much for them to bear. Tom actually stopped me that time, saying we had to leave. I didn’t hear the sirens and alarms going off around us. I was too focused. I wanted my revenge.

“Tom noticed the power in me, and the rage that fueled my actions. He made it a point to tutor me. He taught me everything he knew. I quickly became the second best student in the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, second only to Tom. We were practically inseparable. No one would anger us while we were attending school, either, as they knew where one of us was, the other wasn’t far off. Our reputation was well known throughout the school, even to the professors. I won’t go into too much detail, but Tom was not the only one questioned by Dumbledore.”

“If you were such a troublemaker, why did they ask you to teach this year?”

“Haven’t you noticed the year I’m teaching is the one after Albus passed on? He had his reasons. Once we were out of school, Tom changed his name to Voldemort. We who were associated with Voldemort called ourselves Death Eaters and began raising havoc and fear in the Wizarding world. I was his second in command, his most trusted accomplice. Wherever Voldemort was, I was at his side. He trusted me more than any other individual. For a time, we were like brothers, always watching the other’s back and making sure those beneath us were scared to challenge us. For two people so obsessed with power and hate, we shared a bond in searching for more of both.

“Shortly after he rose in power, Voldemort came to me and told me he had begun hunting for Aethelmaer. True to his word, he found him and told me first. He swore to me that he would not kill him until I was finished taking my revenge. By this time, the dark wizard was seldom seen. Old age had taken an ill turn for him, and he was actually quite pitiful to behold, knowing his former glory.

“The other Death Eaters tried to corner Aethelmaer down an alley. At first, he was surprised, but once the shock was over, so were the lives of several of our allies as well. Lucius, a student at Hogwarts at the time, told us they were in need of our help, as they were falling fast. Voldemort and I Apparated quickly to the site. Amidst the pile of bodies and limbs that was growing higher, I saw that familiar robe twirling as the old man was spinning. Spells shot from his wand two or three at a time. I never knew how he did it.

“The group of Death Eaters separated as Voldemort and I walked straight up to him. He took one look at me and grinned. He started taunting me, but Voldemort used a spell that shut his mouth permanently. An impressed look crossed his face as he started circling us, each on either side of him. At first, Aethelmaer was faster than both of us, constantly blocking our spells and deflecting them at the remaining Death Eaters, hitting them rather efficiently. Finally, one of my spells hit him in the back, severing his spinal cord. He groaned as he fell to the ground. That’s when I grabbed his wand from his hand and snapped it right in front of him.

“What happened next was something I should not have done, but I wanted vengeance for what happened to my parents. I took it. I took every last bit of it out of that old wizard. I put him through so much pain that I think Voldemort pitied him. My only focus was the subject of my hate and anger as I shot every spell and curse I knew at him. I even used his signature spells for dismemberment on him to drive home my point. After each limb was lost, I used a potion I’d been storing for years to cauterize the wounds in the most painful way possible to keep him alive for as long as I could.

“When he was nothing more than a head and torso, I stopped for a moment. I dropped the wand and walked towards him. For the first and only time in his life, I saw fear in his eyes. I started kicking him. I took out all my frustrations in that moment, sending him into walls and breaking every remaining bone in his body. I even beat him with his now severed limbs. Exhausted from the amount of energy I had used and hatred that was relieved, I stepped back from the broken, battered, and bloodied wizard. That’s when Voldemort said those fateful two words: his first murder. He told the rest of the Death Eaters to leave, but asked me to stay. As his most trusted friend, he wanted to show me something he learned. Pulling out his father’s ring, he placed it on the now lifeless body of Aethelmaer and began chanting.

“The words were neither English nor Parseltongue: it was something else, something more evil than anything I’d ever heard before. I started shivering from the aura Voldemort had around him. He started convulsing, yet he still chanted in that dark voice. An orange duplicate of himself emerged from him, looking more like a silhouette, only one surrounded by darkness, as all other light in the alleyway had diminished. The silhouette detached itself from Voldemort and started to become absorbed by the ring. This took place over a matter of seconds, but it seemed like hours. To be in the presence of something so dark and terrifying was unbelievable. Then it was over.

“The next several years resulted in several more killings. Voldemort seemed determined to make Horcruxes out of seven different murders. He was obsessed with it. I started to question his reasons with each new victim. With Aethelmaer, I had a reason to hate and to kill, but after that score was settled, there was no point to it. I saw Voldemort become less human with each killing. His skin became paler, his hair started falling out, and his eyes became more serpentine. Even his voice changed. He wasn’t the wizard I first thought he was. He had become an unstoppable embodiment of evil. I grew to fear him as much as his other followers.

“One night, he came to my home unexpectedly. He was enraged by some failure of one of his Death Eaters. Apparently, there was some prophecy made about him that the servant was supposed to overhear, but didn’t hear the whole thing before he was discovered and thrown out. He told me he was tired and felt sick. He wanted to rest, but he had to make sure this prophecy did not come true. Voldemort said he had come too close to immortality, his ultimate dream, to give up now and let some child take it away from him. He asked me for advice.

“I told him I didn’t want to be a part of his regime any longer. It was difficult enough to watch him kill, but also to see his soul dissolve, making him a fragment of the man he once was. I explained how, though I was eternally grateful for his help in my vengeance, I wanted to stop. I wanted to say goodbye and leave. He was not pleased. It was the only time I saw a tear fall from one of his eyes. He told me how much this hurt him, and that he felt he was losing the only friend he ever truly had. With that, he turned to leave.

“Just before walking out the door, I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. I wanted us to part ways on good terms. As soon as he turned around, his wand was in his hand and the look of compassion was replaced by a look of the deepest pain and hatred I had ever seen. He said I was betraying him and that he could not allow me to live a life aside from his right-hand man. He started shooting curses at me. I was caught off guard at first, and they hurt. He said more things to me, taunts about my family and past. For a friend, he should have known better. My anger came back, and I fought him off.

“The power of my hate was so intense that my house was blown to bits as we fought mercilessly for what must have been an hour. His hate matched my own. He taught me everything he knew, so it was like fighting a mirror for both of us. We each knew the other so well that for most of the time, there was no clear winner. He finally got a measure of advantage over me when he put me under the blinding spell, much as he did during your previous duel. I was surprised, and in that instant, I felt more pain than I ever knew was possible. He threw everything he could at me to make me suffer. He even threw in a few of his own original spells, which I’d imagine he did during your encounter as well. It was his way of repaying my betrayal to him. I could feel his hatred coursing through my body like it was my own blood, which was no doubt all over the room by now.

“Fighting it off, I fled the house, running anywhere. I tripped over everything, ran into walls, but I had to get away. I had seen Voldemort’s routine and knew how it ended. I ran into a couple men, who knocked me unconscious. When I awoke, I was still under the blinding spell. I was also very angry. All the memories he replayed in my head had unleashed the restraint I had on myself, and I was enraged. There were many voices around me, questioning me about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I told them I did not know where they were at that moment, and I didn’t care. Voldemort was the one who put me through this much pain, and I would find him to pay him back.

“They lifted the blinding spell and told me they were the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Two of them, Sirius Black and James Potter, had spotted me and recognized me as Voldemort’s second in command, thus the reason I was at their secret headquarters. Neither man was very trusting, and for good reason. James and Sirius had several encounters in their past that gave them the reputation of being the interrogators of the Order. They gave me truth serum and drilled me with questions. Twice. They were not normally cruel, but with a suspected agent of the Dark Lord in front of them, they did not hold back on insults.

“Once they were satisfied that I was who I said I was, they cleared out of the room. I sat there for at least a day before another face came in. This one was familiar: Albus. The first thing he told me was that, while he remembered me from my days at Hogwarts, I would never have his trust, just as Tom wouldn’t. He always called Voldemort Tom. He saw the pain in me and the anger. He told me it would be a problem for me for the rest of my life unless I learned to control it, and even then, there was no guarantee that, if provoked, it would not come back. Albus sat right in front of me and gave me a look that made even me a bit scared. He told me that if I ever betrayed the Order that he would personally find me and make sure I stayed in Azkaban for the remainder of my life. He also guaranteed that Voldemort would fall. Since I had spoken of a desire to kill Voldemort, he made a deal with me. It was more of an ultimatum, to be exact. Either I teamed with the Order strictly to find and kill Voldemort, and in so doing I was able to stay at their headquarters, or I left and was never welcomed back. Naturally I teamed with them, partly for my anger and partly because I was being given a second chance from a group that did not encourage loyalty through fear, but choice.

“I stayed there for several weeks, learning about the different members. James and Lily were married, and Lily was a few months pregnant with their first child. Dumbledore was now Headmaster of Hogwarts. Severus Snape, a Death Eater to my knowledge, was also a member of the Order. Seeing Dumbledore’s forgiving nature, I tried my best to prove myself to him and the rest, eventually asking to become a member of the Order. They agreed on the condition that I proved myself out in the field.

“I went with James, Sirius, and several others on a mission against some of the Death Eaters. Things were going well until one of the Death Eaters summoned Voldemort. When he arrived, everything broke down. He started shouting every curse in the book at myself and the Order members. Here was my chance for revenge against the Dark Lord, though, so I started shouting curses at him. He reflected them at the different Order members, killing all but James and Sirius. When I realized what I had done, I Apparated back to headquarters.

“When James and Sirius returned, they started hitting me, saying I had betrayed their trust. I never intended for things to happen the way they did, but because of my anger, I was responsible for betraying the Order. I told them I did not want to say goodbye to two of the best men I knew in this manner, but if it was what they wanted, I would leave. Two days later, I was on my own. Before I left, I went to each of them. James was the first I saw. He was still angry, but civil. I told him that if there was anything I could do for him as a favor to repay my debt, I would gladly do it. He looked at me and said that if I was ever needed to defend his son, then I should return to do so. Sirius found me just before I walked out the door and told me to stay on the lookout. There was talk that Voldemort would make a move soon, and they may need me to end it after all, even though I was a wild card. Albus came up behind him. He told me to leave and never return to the Order again. My help was not needed. So I left.

“I thought I would be lost, and for a time I was. One day, however, in Knockturn Alley, I heard a couple dark figures talking about a prophecy and they mentioned the name Potter. I knew instantly that James was in trouble, and I would do anything to save his family and redeem myself. I Apparated to Godric’s Hollow as quickly as I could. But I was too late. The home of James and Lily Potter was completely destroyed. I felt so ashamed that I started digging through the rubble, trying to find some trace of them still left. Sirius came up behind me, telling me that he appreciated my concern, but that James and Lily were gone. I asked where you were, Harry, and he told me that Hagrid was taking you to your nearest relatives.

“Sirius shook my hand and told me that he believed what happened before was an accident, but that I should lay low for a while. The Order would know of my allegiance and call on me if the need was great enough. Before he left, I vowed to protect you should your path ever cross mine. He looked at me with a solemn smile and said that we shared a common goal. That was the last time I saw him. After he left, as a way of proving to him and myself that I could change, I used as much of my power as I could gather and rebuilt the Potters’ home exactly as it was. I suspect that’s what you saw when you went there, Harry. After that, I fled London, returned to Scotland and refused to use any magic.

“I felt so alone in those years for a time, until I met the most remarkable woman. This part of the story is not something you need to know, but I will tell you that her name was Tara and she was a Muggle visiting my country. We fell for one another, and were engaged to be married when a visit from a former Death Eater changed my mind. I realized that, with them still at large, albeit hidden, I could not have the life I wanted with her. So I asked her to leave. I told her that in ten years, regardless if my conscience is clear, I would return to her. She didn’t understand, and told me she couldn’t promise me anything, as ten years was a long time. We parted ways. That was nearly ten years ago.

“This is it for me, Harry. I’ve come this far, and I don’t want to go any further than I have to. I put my life on hold to fight this for far too long. As soon as this is over, for better or worse, I get my life back.”

The two wizards sat in silence for a moment. Harry wanted to say something, but could not think of what. He wanted it to be funny, or wise, or compassionate, but that story had robbed him of words. Never before had he heard of such pain. Garrison’s story matched his own in many ways, and Harry saw pieces of himself in it. He also saw a side of his enemy that he never knew existed.

“Well,” said Garrison after a while, “I’m sure there’s something that needs to be done with the Order. I’ll check in with Minerva.”

Garrison stood and walked to the door. He paused for a moment, then turned around and faced Harry.

“You have a difficult task, Harry, but it’s not impossible. If you could fight him before while your focus was on the Horcrux and not your opponent, you should do fine. Know though, man to man, that I will stand beside you to whatever end befalls us. Oh, and just to inform you, we’re restart your training to make sure you are ready for the final time.”

“Professor,” said Harry, waiting for an opportune moment to speak, “would it be too much to ask you if you would help me in my training?”

“Perhaps I will, but we’ll wait for that. Rest for now. You’ll need it.”

“I know what I’ll be facing,” said Harry.

“That was just the first round of training,” warned Garrison. “There’s more to be learned than just that. What’s coming up will make your previous training look like the classes during your first year at Hogwarts.”