Chapter 1: Consequences











It was a dark and balmy summer’s night and a lonely figure paced the floor of an upstairs bedroom, in a countryside dwelling. The bedroom was dark, except for the moonlight filtering through a lone window near a rusty metal bed. The frame squeaked as the figure sat on the edge of the bed. The haggard young man did not seam to notice the sad condition of the bed or the untidy room that he was currently in. After only a few seconds perched on the filthy mattress, he quickly jumped up and resumed his pacing once more. He was totally engrossed in contemplating his fate.








A kaleidoscope of thoughts where running through his head. He had failed the mission his master had given him. He knew that he would be lucky to get out of this with his life. If only, he had done what was asked of him. If only he had… the blond young man stopped his pacing as a thought occurred to him. Why? Why could he not do it? Why did he not do it? He had plenty of opportunity. It all seemed so simple now, so easy. The old man had even asked him to do it, but still Draco Malfoy had failed his master. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore. It was his responsibility alone, not Snape’s. Now Snape would get the Dark Lord’s gratitude and Draco would get… What? Draco shivered at the thought of what awaited him and his father. His father… what would happen to his father since he had failed? His mission was after all, an effort to bring his father back in favor with the Dark Lord and to spare his life. Draco felt even more terrified and nervous than before, if it was at all possible. Draco’s dark thoughts and contemplation was interrupted by a door opening from across the cramped room.








Draco whirled around and faced the intruder. Furious at having to wait so long with only his imagination to keep him company, he yelled at the man standing in the door way, “Well? What happened? What did he say? What’s going to happen to me and my father?”








“Calm yourself boy. You will not help yourself or your father, if you can not keep yourself level headed,” sneered the intruder. He hesitated for a moment and then added in a softer tone, “As for your mother.”








Draco held his breath at the man’s last words wondering what he could be talking about. Finally he managed a soft whisper, “My mother… what does my mother have to do with this?”








The intruder stepped into the room and was illuminated by a thin trail of moon light that splashed across the room from the window behind Draco. It revealed the sharp features of his reluctant benefactor, Severus Snape. “She has everything to do with this you stupid boy! Don’t you realize the consequences of what you have done, or not done as in this case? You and your father’ fate are not the only one’s at stake here, but your whole family’s. They will pay for your failure. They have paid for them. You had been your family’s last chance to be redeemed in the eyes of our Lord. Now that chance is gone, and the Dark Lord is rarely generous enough to keep handing out more chances.”








Draco cowered at Snape’s outburst and took a step backward, the cold dampness of the window pressed hard against his back. Draco managed to squeak out, “So whh...what happens now. You talk as if it is already…”








Snape sighed, “I’m afraid that it is already too late for your mother. The Dark Lord was not impressed with her interference. She is dead Draco. I am sorry.”








Draco reeled back, as if he had been slapped hard across the cheek, hitting his head against the window. A sharp pain seared his senses. His hands where beginning to shake and his shoulders where beginning to heave in silent tears. His mind was numb with grief and shock. It was his fault. He had killed his mother. If only he had… Only one word slipped from his mouth in a scream as he slowly slid to the cold hard floor in agony. “No!”











***











Hundreds of miles away, in another dwelling in the middle of no where, another soul was being tortured, but in a different way. This was the painful agonizing torture of the physical body. It was unbearable and his screams pierced the dark night over and over again until he could scream no more, but it was not the pain that he was worried about. It was what he might say. What he might reveal. He was determined to keep silent. He could not let them know the secrets that he carried within, no matter what the consequences. He just wished they would hurry up and kill him, before he betrayed the ones he loved. He could not live with himself if this happened, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.








The pain stopped for a moment and his torturer knelt down beside him. “I will find out what you are hiding from us you filthy traitor! How dare you come in here and think you could spy on us! Did you actually think you could get away with it?” roared a vicious wolf like voice from above him. “You are one of us, or at least you where. How could you betray your own kind, your calling? You where shunned by all those you claimed to called friends, who have the nerve to call you a freak, someone dangerous and someone not to be trusted. We accepted you as you are, as one of us. Then you have the gall to turn on us. You have only yourself to blame for this. You have damned yourself, Remus and those that you love. Now tell me what I want to know and I’ll end your suffering and your pathetic life.”








Remus was determined not to talk. He would not. His torturer once again pointed his wand at his crumbled figure and shouted a spell. Before the light enveloped Remus, he managed to shout out just one word before he fell limp onto the dirty, blood covered floor, “No!”

A female silhouette was lying on a cold dusty floor, with spasms of pain racking her body. Her tortured cries reverberated off the dark room’s walls, as they became weaker and in shallower gasps. There was not much left to give from the almost lifeless form. She was dying.


A black clad figure stood menacingly over her, and smiled an ugly grimace. He had had his fun. He was now bored and he had other more important things to attend to. It was time to end it. Then with a flick of his wrist, a familiar and satisfying green light shot out from the end of his wand, penetrating his vision and washing the grisly scene from before him.


Harry Potter woke up, startled and gasping for breath. His teeth where clenched in pain, as he put a hand to his forehead, where a lighting bolt scar was etched. He tried to open his eyes, but quickly shut them again. The light from the lamp, on his desk was too much for his eyes to handle. So he just laid there among his twisted and sweat covered sheets, waiting for the pain to subside. After a few moments his breathing returned to normal and the aching in his head resided to a dull ache.


Harry had woken from another fitful sleep. He had just had a terrible nightmare. There had been a woman in the nightmare, that seemed familiar to Harry, but he could not quite place where he had seen her before. He rolled onto his side and looked at the clock on the night stand. It read 11:16pm. Harry sighed, as he tried to remember exactly what had happened, but the details where becoming murkier by the second. After a few more moments of trying to catch already fleeting thoughts, he gave up and sat on the edge of his bed. He propped his elbows on his knees, and placed his head in his hands. He sat like that, for what seemed like ages, wondering what the nightmare meant.


He wasn’t sleeping well at all, these days. There was just too much on his mind. Not to mention that his scar was hurting once again. Harry wondered, if he had once again been in the depths of Voldemort’s mind, but decided against this conclusion, since he hadn’t had a vision like that in over a year. Why would he be suddenly having visions again? It just didn’t make sense. Maybe he should start practicing Occlumency again, for whatever good it would do him. Harry wished he had someone he could talk to about it. Dumbledore was gone and he was the only person he could really talk to about his scar. A pang of sadness squeezed his heart, as he thought about his former headmaster.


It had been a little less than a month since the funeral. Harry kept replaying the events of Dumbledore’s death and the fight with Snape, over and over in his mind wondering what he could have done differently. It was this that motivated Harry’s resolve to learn as much as he could, so that he would be ready next time he and Snape met. Then Harry would get revenge for Dumbledore’s death.


Harry had been busy, keeping himself occupied since his return to Privet Drive, learning as much as he could from his small library of defense books. He even began a journal of sorts, so that he could keep track of some of the more interesting spells or potions that he ran across, as well as help sort out his tangled thoughts.


Harry lifted his head and looked at the chaotic mayhem that was his room. Clothes, books, and parchment where scattered all across the floor, bed, and desk. The latter was covered with ink stains and held a large stack of books, with titles like Dueling Tactics for the Accomplished Wizard and Advanced Spells for Defense Against the Dark Arts which teetered precariously on one of the desk’s edges. His bed was covered in a storm of parchment, most of which had either been pushed off onto the floor or near the foot of the bed, during his restless nightmare. Harry caught a glimpse of writing on a piece of parchment that was lying near his foot. Seeing it reminded him of what he had been doing, before he must of nodded off to sleep. It was a list of known and possible Horcruxes, including everything he knew about them, which wasn’t much. The search for the Horcruxes was constantly on his mind. He knew it was the first step, to finally defeat Voldemort, at least according to Dumbledore.


Harry jumped up from the bed and began pacing the room, in frustration. Everything was dependant on him, and his ability to defeat Voldemort, but for the life of him, he wasn’t sure on how to do this. He had a vague idea, but that was all, an idea. It all weighed so heavily on his mind. He felt as if the weight of the world was rested squarely on his two lonely shoulders. The last thing he needed now, were disturbing nightmares that interrupted any possibility of getting a restful sleep. A scarier thought crept into his mind. What if they weren’t just nightmares, but something more?


Harry stopped in his tracks and kicked at a pile of clothes on the floor, near the desk. Underneath, revealed a large brown package. He smiled, despite his surly mood, as he remembered what was inside the box. He had received it a few days before from Fred and George. A note was attached that simply read…


Harry,


Give them hell on your last day.


Fred and George



At first, Harry was perplexed at what the note could possibly mean. He then opened the package and immediately understood the twin’s cryptic message. Inside the box was dozen upon dozens of the Weasley’s special new line of Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. There where also a few other tricks and treats that Harry was a bit hesitant to explore, but from the looks of the contents of the box, the brothers where still going strong with their new inventions. Harry gingerly picked up what looked like the twin’s version of the dung bomb. The package read… fouler blasts, a new twist to an already great product. Only these last three times as long and are impervious to most vanishing spells. He grinned wickedly and imagined the possibilities of setting off some of the enchanted fireworks, just to see what would happen.


He could just see it now, a whirl wind of noise and light, from great red and gold dragons circling around his uncle’s head in the living room. Uncle Vernon shaking his fist and yelling at the top of his lungs, demanding that the bloody racket be stopped at once. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Aunt Petunia would be beside herself standing on a chair, gripping a broom, and swatting at the rockets that sprayed purple and blue stars into every corner of the room. As for Dudley, he would be hiding in a corner, whimpering and trying to squeeze into as small of a ball as possible, to avoid the unmanned sparklers and firecrackers dancing helter-skelter around the house.


As funny and as satisfying it would be, to see his relatives’ reaction to the magically enhanced fireworks, he knew he could never use them. First of all, the noise and light would draw too much attention from the neighbors. And even though it would be delightful, to see a dragon flying around the living room, spitting flames out of its mouth and defying his uncle at its mere existence. It would be a little difficult to explain to his muggle neighbors, if it was accidentally released out of the front door. Besides he really did not want to have to deal with the Ministry again. He was sure, that enchanted fireworks floating around a muggle neighborhood, would count as violating the Wizarding Secrecy Law. So instead of releasing the fireworks onto his unsuspecting relatives, Harry had set them aside to use them for another special occasion.


Harry bent down and picked up the package and starred at it nostalgically. He wondered if maybe he could at least get away with setting off a few fouler blasts in his room, before leaving it forever. Harry smiled, as he envisioned his aunt’s reaction as she stepped into the room. He then set the box carefully into his opened trunk, but not before pocketing a few of them.


Calmer, Harry sat down at his desk and picked up a book he had just started reading earlier that day, called Nonverbal Incantations: A Guide on how to use them and make them apart of your everyday spell casting. He had purchased the book several days ago from Flourish and Blotts by owl. Harry knew he needed help in this area and he figured that this was as good as any place to start, at least until he could legally do magic outside of Hogwarts, which would be in less than thirty minutes, according to his beside clock. In exactly twenty-two minutes, it would be his seventieth birthday. Harry grinned, as he turned back to his book. Yes, soon he’d be legal and he could finally leave this place behind forever.



***



A door slammed downstairs, and Harry woke up with a start. He slowly lifted his head and found himself still sitting at his desk. He must have fallen asleep again, but at least this time he didn’t have another nightmare. Harry squinted at the light coming from the window in front of him. From the look of things, it was well past mid morning. He straightened his glasses, on his face and turned to look at the clock it read 9:36am. Harry shot up out of the chair, knocking it backwards.


Harry had to hurry. He had overslept and they would be here soon to take him to the Burrow. He had arranged with Ron and his father, before coming to Privet Drive, to have them pick him up at 10:00am on the 31st of July and then they would go to the Ministry to take their apparition tests. “Almost time,” Harry thought to himself, as he finally finished packing all of his possessions into his overstuffed trunk.


Today was his last day with the Dursley’s forever. Harry was overjoyed at this prospect, but he was most excited about today being his birthday. This was not just any birthday, but his seventeenth birthday. The day he became legal, at least where the wizarding world was concerned, and that was all that really mattered to him. He could finally do magic, without getting in trouble, and that was the most exciting thing of all.


In celebration of his new found freedom, Harry did his first legal magic by getting himself ready and packing all of his belongings. This didn’t take long, since Harry didn’t have much in the way of personal belongings. All that he really owned, were the items he had purchased over the several years at Diagon Alley for school, except for the few things his friends had given him, including his most prized possessions his cloak, map of Hogwarts, and photo album.


Once done, he decided to wait in his room for his friends to arrive, instead of going downstairs. He did not want a repeat of what had happened when he first arrived at Privet Drive, several weeks ago. He had been avoiding his family since. Harry let his mind wander, as he remembered what had happened.


Harry remembered his first day back at Privet Drive, and as always, the first thing out of Uncle Vernon’s mouth, as he hauled his stuff out of the car and into the house was, “I don’t want any funny business from you, boy.”


Harry had just nodded his head in acknowledgement and carried his trunk over the threshold and up to his room. Once he had all of his stuff out of the car, Harry shut his door and hibernated in his room, for the rest of the day. He was in no mood to put up with his family. He knew it was important for him to be here. Dumbledore had told him, that as long as he could call this place home, he would be safe from Voldemort until his seventeenth birthday, but it still didn’t mean he had to enjoy it.


For the first two days, everything had gone smoothly, because Harry had elected to stay in his room most of the time, except for meals. On the third day though, Harry decided he needed some air. So he put his wand in his back pocket, slipped on his worn trainers, and walked down the stairs out the front door, but before he could get out the door he was stopped abruptly by his uncle.


“Where do you think you are going, boy?”


“Out for a walk,” Harry had replied, through clenched teeth. He had hoped to avoid this, but it seemed that was not meant to be. He just hoped his uncle didn’t make him do any more stupid chores. He was too busy doing his own thing. Besides, he had done enough chores over the years to more than compensate for his time spent here.


As if on queue, Uncle Vernon said, “Not before you pull the weeds in the front flower garden and mow the lawn.”


Harry shook with silent anger, before spitting out, “I’m not going to mow your stinking lawn!”


Uncle Vernon started to turn a dark shade of purple and shook his fat finger in his face. “Now look here, you ungrateful boy. You are still under my roof and if I say mow the lawn, that’s what you will do. It’s the least you could do since we give you a room to sleep in and food to eat, even though it’s against my better judgment.”


“Well don’t worry, Uncle Vernon. I’ll be out of all of your hair soon enough. I’ll soon be gone for good and you won’t have to put up with me any more. I bet that makes you happy doesn’t it?”


Uncle Vernon snorted, “It’ll be none too soon if you ask me. Good riddance I say.”


“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” and with that, Harry had turned around and marched back upstairs slamming his door behind him.


He didn’t care, if his uncle got mad at him for not mowing the lawn. He had had enough of his stupid family and decided to have as little contact with them as possible, even if it meant staying in his room the rest of the time he was here. If his uncle decided to press the issue of chores, he could always remind him that the Order members were still expecting progress reports from him. That would shut him up.


Harry was knocked out of his daydreaming, by the sound of the door bell. He glanced at his clock, and it said 10:03. “They’re here!” Harry shouted, at no one in particular. He jumped up from his bed, gathered his stuff, and ran down the stairs, as fast as he could with his trunk and empty bird cage (Harry had sent Hedwig ahead to the Weasleys’) in tow. He wanted to get out the door as fast as possible, before his aunt rose too much of a fuss about having “weirdo’s” hanging out on her front porch.


Harry probably should have told her, that they were going to pick him up today, but he didn’t much care. He knew that since it was a weekday, his Uncle Vernon would be at work, and Dudley would probably be off terrorizing the neighborhood with his friends. So he knew he would only have his aunt to deal with, which was fine with Harry, in fact he preferred it this way.


His aunt was already opening the door, as Harry reached the bottom step. She let out a shriek, when she saw who was on the other side. Harry yelled to her “Aunt Petunia, they’re here for me. I’m leaving for good, so just stand aside and I’ll be out of here and you’ll never have to see me again.”


His aunt just stood in the doorway, looking at the two strangely clad visitors and whispered a small, “hello.”


A red headed youth waved to him, as Harry tried to push past his aunt, who was still standing in the doorway. “Hi, Harry. Need some help?” he asked.


“Let’s just get out of here, please,” Harry said, through gritted teeth.


His aunt, finally coming to her senses, looked at Harry’s possessions and replied, “So you’re leaving then.” Then she slowly backed away from the door to let Harry pass.


Harry’s only reply was to hand, Ron his bird cage and then he walked out onto the front stoop. He was about to walk down the side walk, to the Ministry car waiting for him on the curb, when he felt a firm grasp on his shoulders and a man’s voice say, “Shouldn’t you say a proper goodbye to your family, since this maybe the last time you see them.”


Harry looked at the hand on his shoulder, and followed the arm to the face of another red headed man though this one was much older than the first. “Yeah, ok.” Harry didn’t much feel like turning around and talking to his aunt again, but he did so reluctantly. “Bye then, thanks for everything.” He then turned around sharply, before his aunt had a chance to respond; dragging his trunk behind him and walked down the side walk of Privet Drive, hopefully for the last time.

Ginny looked out the kitchen window for the twentieth time wondering what could be taking them so long. Shouldn’t they have been back by now? How long does it take to complete apparition tests, anyhow?


“Ginny, watch what your doing! You’re going to spill that all over the place!” her mother scolded from behind.


Ginny looked down at what she was doing and realized that the teapot she was filling with water was starting to overflow. Ginny quickly pulled back, from the faucet and set the pot down onto the counter, as she mumbled something that sounded like “sorry mum,” under her breath.


“What has gotten in to you? You haven’t been yourself at all this summer. Is there something wrong?”


Ginny sighed, as she turned away from the window, “No mum, nothing’s wrong. I’ve just got things on my mind, that’s all. If you don’t need my help anymore, I think I’ll go up to my room now.”


“No, everything is almost done. Run along dear. I’ll call you when we get ready to eat.”


“Don’t bother, I’m not that hungry, besides I still have loads of homework to do,” without looking back, Ginny pounced up the stairs.


Mrs. Weasley turned around; to finish the salad she was making and shook her head, “teenagers.”
She was interrupted moments later by three loud pops coming from just outside the front door.


“Molly, we’re here!” boomed the voice of her husband, as the front door opened.


Molly quickly dropped what she was doing, and rushed forward. She passed her husband and son and embraced the dark haired youth behind them. “Harry!” she exclaimed. “It’s good to see you. My! Have they been feeding you at all? You’re look so thin and pale. Come in here and get something to eat right away young man!”


“Yes, Mrs. Weasley.” The youth muttered, from the woman’s still enclosed arms.


“Harry, you’re of age now call me Molly or mum if you like.”


“Thanks Mol-Molly,” Harry said, timidly, as the matronly woman finally released him. Harry didn’t feel comfortable calling here mum, even though she had been the closest think to a mother he had ever had. He told himself that if he began calling her “mum” that he may grow even more attached than he already was. This would not do at all, not after all the other losses… Harry quickly changed the subject. “Where is everybody?”


Mrs. Weasley, who was somewhat disheartened by his choice not to call her mum, pushed it aside and answered him, “Well, Ginny’s upstairs. (Harry visibly flinched, but no one seemed to notice). “The twins are at the shop. Bill and Fleur are out, doing some last minute shopping for the wedding and Hermione should be along shor… oh here she comes now.”


Harry turned around, to see Hermione, opening the front door, and pulling her possessions behind her. “Here let me get those for you,” Mr. Weasley said, as he took her things. Then, along with Harry’s belongings, he whisked them up to their perspective bedrooms.


As soon as she saw Harry, Hermione stepped forward, rushed up and gave him a big hug. She then turned to Ron and started to give him one as well, when she stopped short. She hesitated a moment. Then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and mumbled a barley audible, “hello.” Ron just blushed, and looked down at his feet. Harry shook his head. Mrs. Weasley didn’t seem to notice, as she engulfed Hermione in one of her famous hugs. She then insisted that they all sit down and eat before they wasted away from hunger.


Harry couldn’t argue with this. He had not eaten much this summer at the Dursley’s. Ron was already halfway in his seat, grabbing a piece of bread and shoveling it in his mouth. He then proceeded to reach for what looked like a bowl of potato salad and spooned a large amount of it onto the plate in front of him. Harry sat down beside him and Hermione took the seat across from Harry. Hermione shook her head, in disgust at Ron’s table manners.


Mr. Weasley soon joined them, at the head of the table. While Mrs. Weasley hovered around, the table making sure everyone was taking enough food, especially Harry.


“So, did you two go to the Ministry today to take your Apparition tests? Ron wrote to say you where going to.” Hermione asked Harry.


Harry shook his head, as he planted a large chicken leg onto his plate, “Yeah, we both passed too.” Harry heard a mumble from his side that sounded like “finally” but couldn’t tell for sure.


“Ron, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” Mrs. Weasley scolded him.


Ron just stuck another piece of bread in his mouth. Hermione ignored Ron all together and continued the conversation, “That’s great Harry! Though I knew you wouldn’t have any problems passing the test, unlike some people.” Ron seemed oblivious to this comment and continued to eat.


The rest of the meal continued with the three catching up. on what had happened over the summer, while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley politely listened in and added they’re own remarks here and there. After three large helpings of everything on the table and dessert, Harry decided he had satisfied his hunger and Mrs. Weasley. He politely excused himself, got up from the table, and walked up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Ron. He had hoped Ron and Hermione would take the hint and follow. Hermione did, but she had to prompt Ron to follow.


Moments later, all three where gathered in Ron’s room. Harry sat on his bed, while Hermione and Ron sat next to each other on Ron’s bed. Harry smiled at them and wondered if they would finally wise up and start dating. He pushed that aside and then got right down to business, “So…”


“So what?” Ron asked.


“What’s been happening the last few weeks? Have you heard anything from the Order, on who’s replacing Dumbledore? Have there been any new movements from Voldemort? What about Snape and Malfoy? The Daily Prophet hasn’t been very forthcoming on any new information. Believe me, I checked. What about the locket? Any ideas on who R.A.B could be?” Harry blurted out.


“Whoa, take a breath Harry and no, no, no, and maybe.” Hermione replied from across the room.


“Maybe? What does that mean?” Harry questioned.


Hermione sighed; she had hoped to have more information by now. “Well, I visited the hall of records at the Ministry last week, to see if I could come up with anything. Let me tell you, it’s not easy looking up a person with only initials to go on. Actually it’s down right impossible. Do you know how many wizards where born in the last hundred years with names that begin with ‘R’? Evidentially it’s a popular letter.”


“But Hermione, I thought you said…” Ron interrupted.


Hermione glared at him, “I wasn’t finished Ron. I was about to say it’s down right impossible, unless you have a little help.”


“What kind of help?” Harry interjected impatiently. He didn’t want to have to endure their bickering.


“Well, we know several things based on that note you found in the locket. First, our mystery person more than likely was a Death Eater, because of the way he addressed the note. Two, he had a child or house elf with him, because you needed two to get the locket. Remember, Dumbledore said that the boat would only hold one full grown wizard. Three, the person is more than likely dead by now. We know this from his own confession that he was dying or would die soon. Four, Voldemort must have known him rather well, because he expected Voldemort to know who wrote the note with only initials as a signature. Five, whoever stole the locket, obviously knew more than he should, in reference to Horcruxes. How he came by this information is, of course unknown. So where does that leave us?”


Ron looked at Hermione, like she had three heads. If she was expecting him to come up with an answer, she was wrong. “Confused?”


“And we’re no where closer to figuring out who our mystery person is,” Harry added.


Hermione threw up her hands in disgust, “Really you two are hopeless sometimes. We actually know an awful lot. I just explained it to you.”


“Would you just get to the point already, Hermione?” Ron whined.


“Fine, I think that R.A.B. is, or was a Death Eater. The evidence in the note is overwhelming, to support this theory. I also think that this person is more than likely already dead. So, this narrows down our search considerably.”


Harry leaned forward, expectantly, “So, you know who it is?”


“No.”


Harry and Ron both groaned. Ron threw up his arms and flopped back on the bed, bouncing into Hermione as he did so.


“Well, that’s not a lot of bloody help!”


Hermione slapped Ron, and continued, “No, not immediate help, but it is a start. At least we know what we are looking for. I’m sure if we keep at it, the pieces will fall into place.”


Harry got up from his bed, and walked over to the window, looking out over the Weasley’s yard. “That’s the problem, Hermione. Time, is something we don’t have a lot of.”


“I know that. So maybe we should focus on the other Horcruxes, until we can get something more substantial with the locket.”


“Yeah I guess so, but we really don’t know much about the other Horcruxes either. I do think however, that the best way to find these other Horcruxes will be to revisit significant places that mean something to Voldemort.”


“How do you figure?” Hermione asked curiously.


“I don’t know. I guess it was something Dumbledore told me, during one of our sessions.” Harry turned around and looked at his two friends, “I also had something else I wanted to talk to you both about. While I was at the Dursley’s I did a lot of studying on defense spells and dueling. I think we should practice at doing nonverbal spells better as well.”


“What are you suggesting, Harry?”


“I’m suggesting that we need to do some serious training, if we are going to face Death Eaters and eventually Voldemort, especially since we won’t be returning to Hogwarts this year.”


Ron sat back up excitedly, on the bed, “That sounds good to me.”


“Yeah, I think we all could use some more training in that area. When do we start?” asked Hermione eagerly.


“As soon as possible, I know the wedding is in a few days, so we’ll start after that.”


“Hey mate, are we still planning on going to Godric’s Hollow?” asked Ron.


“Yeah, as soon as the wedding is over, it will be the first thing we do. Then, we will start up a training schedule.”


“What did you have in mind for training and where?” asked Hermione, switching back to the original topic.


Harry went into details of what he had in mind, and the afternoon quickly passed by. After several hours of discussing they’re plans, a soft knock sounded on the door and a voice came from the other side, “Ron, mum wants you three downstairs right away.”


Ron walked over to his door and jerked it open. Harry sat up as he saw who it was. “Why?” Ron demanded. “We’re busy!”


Ginny rolled her eyes, “Ron, you’re so dense sometimes. I take that back. You’re dense all the time. Remember what mum told you at breakfast this morning?”


Ron slapped himself in the head, “Oye! I forgot. Alright, we’ll be down in a minute.”


Ginny turned around and left, saying as she went, “Just hurry up!”


“What was that all about?” Harry asked, as he sat back onto the edge of his bed.


“Oh, nothing we’d better go though. I’m sure whatever mum wants it’s important,” said Ron, as he smiled.


Hermione guessed what was going on, got up from the bed and joined Ron at the door, “We’ll go ahead, Harry. Give us a minute and come on down.” Hermione then took Ron’s hand and led him down the stairs.


Harry just shrugged his shoulders and, leaned back onto his pillow, with his hands behind his head. After a few moments, he sighed and got up from the bed. He walked over to the only mirror in the room, and tried to flatten his unruly hair. After a few moments without success, he decided it was a hopeless battle and headed for the door. “I guess I should go down and see what’s going on.” Harry thought to himself.


As he stepped out into the hall, he thought it strange that he didn’t hear any noise coming from downstairs. You would think that he would be able to hear someone talking or dishes clattering, as it was nearly dinner time. Harry thought this odd, and took out his wand. He always carried with him these days, just to be safe. You could never be too careful with a murdering lunatic after you.


Harry crept down the stairs slowly and watchful for anything suspicious. He managed to get to the last landing without any problems, but as Harry stepped down onto the next step a loud squeak pierced the silence and making Harry wince inwardly. “Great,” he thought, “Just announce your presence to the whole house.”


Harry gingerly, took the last few steps to the bottom of the staircase and got the shock of his life. A bellow of multiple voices rang out in unison, “Surprise, Happy birthday, Harry!”


Harry looked into the room and saw a sea of heads and bodies packed into the tiny space all looking at him. He didn’t know what to say.


“Constant Vigilance, aye Potter,” growled a voice from the back.


Harry was jolted back into reality and looked down, remembering that he had taken his wand out earlier. He suddenly felt pretty foolish pointing his wand at them and quickly put it a way. He then took a closer look at the room and was dumbfounded at what he saw. The kitchen table was overflowing with food fit for a Hogwarts feast and a large cake taller than he was, took the spot in the middle of the table. Decorations adorned the whole house, but what caught Harry’s attention was a large banner, a bit lop-sided, hanging in mid-air which read “Happy Birthday Harry” in bright red and gold letters. It would do flips and curls around the kitchen every so often and then come back to its starting spot, singing Happy Birthday in an off key tune. He still couldn’t get use to the fact that people loved him so much, that they would go out of their way to do stuff life this for him. A tear unknown to him, silently fell down his cheek.


“So, how does it feel to be legal,” someone asked, breaking the silence.


Harry smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know, but it sure is nice to be able to do magic outside of Hogwarts and not get into trouble.”


Everyone laughed at this and Mrs. Weasley pulled him toward the kitchen table, sitting him down in front of the towering cake. She handed him a plate and pushed a bowl of rice pudding toward him. “Well dig in, it’s been hours since you’ve eaten anything, and make sure you get plenty of cake. I made it from scratch you know. Do you know how hard it is to make a seventeen layer cake? Ginny helped as well. She really is a wonder in the kitchen, but enough of that. Dig in.”


The next hour was filled with light hearted chatter and delicious food, as everyone enjoyed a wonderful evening with their friends and family. When it was time to cut the cake, Mrs. Weasley helped hand out the pieces as Harry cut them. When everyone finally got a piece, he sat down to enjoy his own large piece. Once into his second helping, he took a moment to glance around the kitchen. All the Weasley’s where there, minus Percy. Fleur, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, and Hagrid but there was one person he expected to see, but didn’t. “Where’s Remus?” he asked no one in particular.


The room suddenly got quiet. Harry looked around, confused at their silence. “What? What happened?” he asked again, tentatively.


Mr. Weasley answered grimly, “Sorry Harry, I guess we forgot to mention it to you earlier. Remus has been missing for over two weeks now.”


“What! Why didn’t anyone say anything! Especially you two!” he glared at Ron and Hermione.


Hermione shrugged and said, “I honestly didn’t know.” Then she too looked at Ron.


Ron gulped, “Sorry, Harry, I guess I forgot.”


“Forgot,” Harry said very quietly. “How could you forget something like that? I asked you earlier if anything had happened, and you said no.”


“Actually, Harry, I said no,” Hermione piped up. “Ron really didn’t say much of anything.” She glared at him again.


Ron slowly slid down his seat, until his head was almost level with table. “Sorry,” he whispered.


“So, what happened?” Harry asked, ignoring Ron.


This time, it was Mad-Eye who spoke up. He cleared his throat and began, “Dumbledore had Remus working a little undercover project last year.”


“Yeah, I already know. He was supposed to keep an eye on Greyback and the other werewolves,” Harry interrupted.


Mad-Eye and some of the others around the table looked a bit taken back. “How did you about that?” Mad-Eye growled, suspiciously.


“Remus told me last Christmas.” Harry answered back.


“Well, Remus decided on his own, to continue what he started last year, even after Dumbledore’s death. Some of us thought he should wait until things had settled down a little bit more, and for the Order to choose a new leader before going back in, but he insisted. He said that now that Dumbledore was gone, it was important now more than ever to keep a close eye on things. That was over three weeks ago. We haven’t heard from him since.”


Harry winced at the mention of Dumbledore’s death. Even though he had come to terms with his teacher and friend’s demise, it still hurt to think about it. Harry also began to be concerned for Remus. He offered hopefully, “Maybe he’s just busy and hasn’t found the time to check in, or maybe he’s in a position that if he makes contact, he’ll blow his cover.”


It was Mr. Weasley who answered Harry this time, “We thought about that and you may be right, at least that’s what we hope is going on.” Avoiding looking in Tonks direction, he continued, “After he failed to check in at the allotted time we started to worry and tried to send a few order members to look around tentatively to find out what was going. So far we haven’t come up with anything.”


Tonks had been very quiet during this whole exchange, but silent tears were beginning to stream down her cheeks. Mrs. Weasley saw this, and jumped up from the table, walked over to Harry, and shoved another piece of cake towards him, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Arthur, I’m sure Remus is fine. He can take care of himself. He’ll contact us when he can. Here, Harry, have another piece of cake. You’ve only had two so far.” She turned to go back to her seat, but before getting there. She silently slipped Tonks a tissue and patted her on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.


Harry took the hint and decided to change the subject, despite the fact that he was far from getting the answers he wanted. “What about Snape and Draco? Has anyone heard about their whereabouts?”


Before anyone could answer Harry’s question, Mrs. Weasley interrupted him, “Really, Harry, must we talk about talk about such things. It’s your birthday. We should be celebrating, not talking about the war.”


“Molly, please don’t take this the wrong way, but it is my birthday and I would like to know what is going on.”


She was taken back by Harry’s remark and was about to reply, when her husband gently touched her arm. She looked at her husband, who shook his head in silence. She pursed her lips in a scowl, but remained silent.


An uncomfortable quiet hung in the air, but Mad-Eye broke it, by answering Harry’s question. “No, Harry. No one has seen or heard from either of them, since their disappearance from Hogwarts, but that’s not a surprise. Snape was our only real contact with the Death Eaters. We do have other sources. I hate to say it, but none are as reliable and informative as he was.”


“I wonder what those two are up too.” Harry growled under his breath.


Mad-Eye must have heard him, “Don’t know. Wherever they are, they’re probably up to no good.”
Harry just sat there, playing with his cake, no longer interested in eating it. He couldn’t help but feel rage slowly boiling up inside of him. He had been so close to catching them, but he had let both of them get away. Well, not next time. He was determined not to fail next time he met them.


Mrs. Weasley stood up, “Ok, let’s open your presents now. Shall we?”


Harry reluctantly agreed. He could use a little cheering up right know. So, he followed everyone into the living room and placed himself in front of a large stack of gifts. He spent the next half hour opening each gift and making sure to thank each person in turn. By the time he was done, he had received several useful books in defense spells and Quidditch maneuvers. He was also richer in an assortment of cloths and candy. This was definitely the best birthday he’d ever had.


After all the gifts had been opened, the rest of the evening was spent quietly by the fire, enjoying everyone’s company. All too soon, the clock on the mantle struck quarter to midnight. Not realizing how late it had gotten, everyone began to excuse themselves and depart.


Hermione and Ron were on the sofa, engrossed in their fifth game of chess. Harry decided to leave them to their game and headed up the stairs. As he walked up to his room, he found himself reflecting on the events of the day. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he wasn’t watching where he was going, and ran straight into someone. Both Harry and the person tumbled onto the second story landing with a loud crash. Harry found himself sprawled in a heap on top of a warm body. A familiar scent of flowers came to his nose and made him feel warm and content.


“Will you watch where you’re going? And get off me!” a heated voice yelled from beneath him.


Harry looked down, and took notice to who he had run into. It was Ginny. He couldn’t help but notice how close he was to her, and how he was sprawled on top of her. He immediately blushed from head to toe and mumbled “Sorry.” He then hurriedly picked himself up and ran the rest of the way up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door and leaned up against it breathing heavily.


He listened as Ginny got up, went to her own room, and closed the door. It was several minutes before Harry could move. When he finally did, he went and sat down on his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees, and ran a shaky hand through his hair. That was close. He had almost done what? Kiss her, held her in his arms, and told her he was sorry for breaking up with her. No, he couldn’t do any of that. He had a mission to complete. He had a prophecy to fulfill.


Harry lay down on his bed, closed his eyes and sighed, “Maybe, just maybe after all this craziness was over. Maybe then they could finally be together.” After what seemed like hours of gazing at the ceiling above, he managed to nod of to sleep dreaming of Ginny and the possibilities.

Dear Harry,



If you’re receiving this note, I have not yet returned from my mission. I’m sorry to have missed your birthday. I really wanted to be there for you, especially, seeing as this one you become a man. I still remember the day your parents brought you home from the hospital. You were so tiny and fragile.



I know that your parents and Sirius would be very proud of the man you are becoming. You have been through so much, in the few short years you’ve been alive. More than any person should have to go through. You have persevered through it all, but unfortunately it is not over. I know that whatever happens, you will rise to the challenge and meet it head on, with out hesitation. I just hope, the book, I am sending with this letter, will help in this endeavor.



Remember, you are not alone, and there are people out there, who care for you a great deal. I know I speak for her, when I say that Tonks and I both are two of those people. So please, let us know if there is anything we can do for you.



You’re Friend,


Remus Lupin



P.S. I thought you might want to pay your parents old place a visit. They lived at 436 Old Leary Road, Godric’s Hollow. Good luck.



Harry rested against his trunk on the floor, which lay open near the foot of his bed. In his hand, was the letter Remus had given him for his birthday, along with a new defense book Advance Defense for a Skilled Wizard. Tonks had given it to him at the party, in Remus’ absence. Harry had read the letter many times since then, but it was the post script that interested him the most. He now sat soaking in each number and letter of the address, where he and his parents had lived happily, even if it was for a short while. A wave of sadness washed over him, as he thought of the life with his parents he never had a chance to know.



Harry wanted and needed to visit his parent’s home, but was hesitant about it. He knew that going there would be painful, and wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He had felt so sure about going there a few short weeks ago. Now he felt uncertain. No, he’d go and soon. It had to be done, and he wanted to use the house as his new home and head quarters. If this was ever to happen, he would have to face it, and the sooner the better.



The bedroom door shot open. Startled, Harry looked up to see his friend enter the room. “Hey mate, you coming, or what? Mum wants us to hurry and eat breakfast, so we can help with the stupid wedding preparations.” Ron did a belly flop onto his bed and grabbed his pillow. He fluffed it up and settled his bright red head in the center of it. “I for one, will be glad when the thing is over. If I have to help decorate one more object in pink and white ribbons, I think I’ll puke all over the place. Why do girls insist on all those dumb decorations anyways? Why can’t you just put out some chairs, have a quick ceremony, and then feed everyone buffet style? It sure would save a lot of hassle. I also might be able to get back to playing chess and sleeping in late.”



Harry laughed at Ron. “When did your mum ever let you sleep in late, on purpose?”



“Good point.” Ron rolled onto his back and sighed, “Oh well, I can dream can’t I.”



“Yeah, sure,” Harry snorted.



Ron pulled his pillow from beneath his head and threw it at his friend.



Harry ducked, as it barreled toward him. The pillow hit the wall behind him with a soft smack and fell to the floor. “Hey, what was that for?”



“For destroying the dream.” Ron grinned. The grin slowly left his face as he sat up on his bed and began fidgeting with the bed linen. A few moments passed before he spoke again, “I know it’s really none of my business but…”



Harry looked over Ron, wondering what was on his roommate’s mind. “But what?”



“I…I really think you should talk to Ginny.”



Harry tensed up, at the mention of her name. “What? Why?”



“Urrr… well… because she hasn’t really been herself ,since coming back from Hogwarts. I think she might be upset or… something.”



Harry frowned, as he sat up straight, “Upset, about what?”



Ron shrugged, not sure how to continue, “I don’t know.”



“What makes you think she’s upset about anything?”



“I don’t know. Hermione…”



“So, has Hermione put you up to this?”



Ron sighed, “Look, will you just talk to her.”



“Why should I?”



“Because… Hermione thinks Ginny’s upset about the break up.” Ron blurted out.



Harry sighed heavily and closed his eyes, “I thought I made things perfectly clear to her at Dumbledore’s funeral about that.”



“Just talk to her. Alright? I don’t like seeing my baby sister upset.”



“I’ll think about it.”



“Fine. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. See you down stairs.” Ron propelled himself from the bed and dashed out the door before Harry could say anything else.



Harry remained where he was, thinking about what Ron had said. Was Ginny upset at him? Come to think of it, she hadn’t said more than a few words to him since he arrived, but under the circumstances he didn’t think that unusual. Why would she be mad about the break up? He thought she had understood. Girls, they didn’t make much sense sometimes.



Harry’s stomach rumbled. From the sounds things, he could use some breakfast too. He set his book back in the trunk and walked over to the nightstand. He picked up the locket he and Dumbledore had found in the cave. He always kept it with him, as a reminder of what still needed to be done: the locket… the cup… the snake…something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s. He stood looking at it, for a moment anger surging through him like bolts of lightning. Harry shook it off and placed the fake Horcrux in his pocket. He swiftly turned and followed after Ron, trying not to think about the mission or Ginny.



Before Harry even reached the kitchen, his nose was assaulted by an onslaught of delicious smells. Sure enough, when he entered the room, a large spread of breakfast foods graced the large kitchen table.



As soon as Mrs. Weasley spotted Harry, she swept him over to a chair at the table and set a large helping of bacon and eggs in front of him. “Eat up everyone. We have a lot to get done today. As soon as all of you are done with breakfast, I want you to help Bill set up the tents in the back yard. He’s already out there trying to get an early start. Fleur’s been worried that everything won’t get done in time.”



Harry sat down and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. He dug into his breakfast with a hearty appetite.



“Good morning Harry.” Harry looked up to see Mr. Weasley in his usual spot at the head of the table grinning at him.



“Good morning, Mr. Weasley.” Harry grinned back.



“Arthur, Harry, please”



“Sorry, Good morning, Arthur.”



“Oh, Harry, I almost forgot. This came for you this morning. It looks like your book list for school. Ron and Hermione, you both got one as well.” Mrs. Weasley slipped an envelope next to Harry’s plate.



Harry’s brow furrowed, “So they aren’t closing Hogwarts?”



“No. The board of directors made an official announcement in the Daily Prophet yesterday. It said that the school will remain open for any student who wishes to return. Professor McGonagall was appointed as the new Headmistress as well, but we all knew that was going to happen. Thank Merlin. It would be a terrible crime for you children not to finish your education. You’re all so close to finishing, too.”



Ron’s fork stopped in mid air and his pale skin became even paler. He had not yet told his parents, that he wouldn’t be returning to school. He had hoped it would be canceled and wouldn’t have to. In an effort to appear normal, he continued to eat, but with more gusto than usual.



Mrs. Weasley saw this and scolded him, “Slow down Ron! You don’t have to inhale your food. Really!”



Two snickers came from the far end of the table. It had been the first time Harry realized that Fred and George were at the table. Ginny was there as well. Her nose was buried deep in the Daily Prophet, seemly oblivious to what was going on around her. Harry let his gaze stop for a moment on her. He quickly looked away, when Ginny glanced up from the paper. He picked up the letter Mrs. Weasley had given him, and opened it.



She had been right. It was his book list from Hogwarts. As Harry unfolded the letter, a piece of parchment dropped into his lap. Curious Harry picked it up and read it…




Mr. Potter,



I know that you had expressed to me earlier this summer that you would not be returning to Hogwarts for your seventh and final year. I realize that you have other commitments, but your commitment to your education is just as important. Even though you have proven yourself as a gifted young wizard, there are things still to learn. Hogwarts can teach you those things. I urge you to reconsider your decision and hope to have you as my student once again.


Headmistress


Minerva McGonagall



Harry had been expecting a letter like this. He had sent the professor a letter, when he had arrived at Privet Drive. He wanted to let McGonagall know that, even if they decided to keep Hogwarts open, he would not be returning. She was right though about him still lacking the proper education. That’s why he was planning his own training sessions. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. He really didn’t think Hogwarts had anything of value left to teach him, and it just wouldn’t be the same without Dumbledore.



Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, “I was thinking that we all could make a trip to Diagon Alley next week and pick up your school things, then.”



Harry, Hermione and Ron all exchanged worried glances. They all knew that this moment would come. The latter started to speak, “Huh… Mum there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I ah… well you see…” but Ron was unable to finish.



Harry could see that Ron was having difficulty. So he blurted out, “We won’t need to go to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies, since we won’t be returning to Hogwarts.”



Movement ceased in the tiny room in shock, at what Harry had said. All eyes turned to a rather red faced woman. They were waiting to see her reaction to Harry’s outburst. Seconds passed by like hours, until the silence was finally broken by Mrs. Weasley, ‘What do you mean you won’t be returning to school? And who is we?”



Very slowly, Ron and Hermione both raised their hands. An apologetic grin plastered on they’re faces.



“What is the meaning of this? You three are going back to school! How can you not finish your education? What’s more important than that?”



Harry looked at the enraged woman. He did not want to anger her further, but he wanted her to understand the importance of what he was doing. “We’re going find a way to stop this war.”



As expected, she didn’t take his news too well, “You three are too young and inexperienced to be off fighting in this war, at least wait until you graduate! You know the rules. You can’t join the Order. You’re too young.”



“We weren’t planning on joining the Order. We will be doing our own thing. We have a mission to complete.” Harry explained quietly.



“What? No, absolutely not! I forbid it. You’re all going back to school and that’s final!”



“Molly, they are of age. We can’t stop them if they want to do this.” interrupted Mr. Weasley.



She looked at her husband in disbelief, “Arthur, I can’t believe you’re condoning this. You of all people know how important an education is.”



“Yes Molly, I do, but it should be for the individual to decide that for themselves. They aren’t stupid, Molly. They know all of this. If they aren’t returning to school, then they must have a good reason, especially since Hermione is in agreement. We should respect their wishes. They are of age and can do whatever they want, regardless of how we feel.”



She was horrified at what her husband said. She practically shook with rage. “Fine, Harry Hermione, do what you want, but you, young man, are going back to school.” She said this to her youngest son, as she pointed her finger at him.



Ron flinched, but calmly confronted her, surprising everyone, “No mum, I’m not going back. I’m going with Harry. He needs my help.”



If she was shocked at her husband’s reaction, she was doubly so, by her son’s. It was too much for the woman and she broke down in tears. Mr. Weasley went to her side and put his arm around her in an effort to comfort her.



“Molly, it will be alright. They can take care of themselves.”



She pulled herself away from her husband and slowly sad down in her seat, without a word to anyone. The kitchen remained deathly quiet, except for the occasional sniffle from Mrs. Weasley.



Mr. Weasley was the first one to speak, “If you don’t mind me asking, what are the three of you planning on doing?”



“Yeah, plan on running off and fighting some Death Eaters on your own?” Fred asked.



“Because if you are, count us in.” George finished.



“Count me in, too.” Ginny piped up, forgetting about the paper in front of her.



Mrs. Weasley still didn’t say a word, but she pursed her lips in obvious disagreement.



Harry saw this and replied, “I appreciate all of your offers, but for now I’d like to keep things the way they are, with just us three.”



Ginny looked like she was getting angry and going to say something, but Harry cut her off before she could, “But who’s to say we won’t need help some time down the road.”



“I still want to come.” Ginny glared at Harry.



“Ginny, Ron might be of age, but you’re not. You’re going back to school and that is final.” Mr. Weasley said firmly.



Ginny glared at her father but ended up nodding her head and muttering, “Yes, Dad.”



“Just say the word, mate.” said Fred.



“And we’ll be with you.” concluded George.



“Thanks.” Harry replied. He really did appreciate their willingness to help, but he couldn’t endanger anyone else. He also quietly thanked Mr. Weasley for putting his foot down with Ginny. He knew how head strong she could be about things. He knew that Ginny would want to come with him on his journey and that was something he just couldn’t allow. She would be a distraction and he didn’t want to see her hurt. He looked down at his plate, in an effort to avoid the daggers Ginny was now shooting at him from across the table.



“You haven’t answered my question Harry.” asked Mr. Weasley.



Harry looked across the table at Hermione. She nodded her head. “I can’t tell you everything, Arthur. I can tell you however, that as soon as Bill and Fleur’s wedding is over, Ron, Hermione, and myself are going to Godric’s Hollow. We will be staying there during our search.”



“What search?” he asked curiously.



“I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”



“But what about your education?” asked Mrs. Weasley, not being able to remain silent any longer.


Her husband shot her a warning look from the head of the table.



Hermoine answered the question, “We still plan on keeping up with some studies, defense mostly. We have already planned most of what we’ll be going over.”



“Well, maybe you three should come by Grimmald Place. Have a talk with some of the Order members.” Mr. Weasley suggested politely.



“I appreciate your help and concern, but it isn’t necessary. I know what I’m doing. Dumbledore made it very clear to me, before he died, what I must do.” Harry stated.



Mr. Weasley sighed, “I understand, but you’re still young and maybe you can benefit from the experience of others.”



Harry knew that he would not be able to leave the table, without compromising something. “I’ll think about it.”



“That’s all I ask.” Mr. Weasley replied, pleased that he at least gotten somewhere with the stubborn lad.



Tension gripped everyone in the room, as they resumed their breakfast. Hermione picked up the Daily Prophet Ginny had discarded and started to glance through it. After a few moments, without thinking Ron asked his usually question, “Anyone else we know die?”



Hermione was about to say something, when she got a very serious look on her face. She finally looked up from the paper looking slightly ill. “Actually… yes, and you won’t believe who.” She handed the paper across the table to Harry.



Harry took the paper, started to scan it, and went white as a sheet at what he saw. His mind tried to comprehend what had happened. Another death had occurred because of him. Harry set the paper aside, and put his head on his hands. When would this nightmare stop?



“What’s wrong? Who is it this time?” asked Ron. He grabbed the paper Harry had set aside. It took a moment but he found what he was looking for.



“Uh oh, this means trouble doesn’t it?” Ron was starting to look ill, himself.



“It means that Voldemort knows.” Hermione answered.



Ron looked at Harry, “How can we be sure? Maybe it’s a coincidence.”



“Oh, he knows you can be sure of that. It’s no coincidence.” Harry said, with a long drawn out sigh.



“Who knows what?” Ginny asked perplexed, looking between Harry, Hermione, and Ron, hoping one of them would answer her question.



Harry ignored Ginny’s question, got up from the table and started to pace the kitchen. Hermione’s response was to hand the paper to Ginny, with a funny look on her face. “I thought you already read the paper. It can’t be more obvious, since the article is right on the front page.”



Ginny took the paper her ears turning a dark shade of red that almost matched her hair and she began to skim the paper.



Fred and George were throwing her curious glances, wondering if their sister had lost it. Fred, who was closest to Ginny, attempted to snatch the paper from her hands, but she pulled away just in time.



“Either read it out loud or pass it on.” Fred replied.



“Or can’t you read this morning?” George finished.



“I can read just fine.” Ginny stated indignantly.



“Well, you sure haven’t proved it.” George commented.



Ginny’s embarrassment quickly turned into anger, “Look here you…”



Fred lunged for the paper again while George had her distracted. This time he succeeded. He let out a triumphant yell and proceeded to read the article to himself.



“Out loud if you please.” George said, as he rolled his eyes.



Fred began reading it out loud.






Hogwarts Professor found dead, will it affect the Opening of the School?



Earlier today, Ministry Aurors found the body of one Sybil Trelawney, the Divination professor from Hogwarts. The professor was reported missing a few days ago, when she failed to show for a yearly mandatory staff meeting. Concerned, the new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, went to her quarters at the school, to see why the professor had missed the meeting. All that the Headmistress found was a letter of resignation from the Seer. There is no telling how long the Seer had been gone since the note was not been dated.



Professor Trelawney had not been seen since Professor Dumbledore’s death (the former Headmaster). This, of course was not unusual, since she normally kept to herself. What was unusual was the manner of her resignation, since it is customary to present a letter of resignation to the Headmaster (or in this case Headmistress) in person. No one is sure of the Seer’s reasons for leaving in such a way. This reporter has it on good authority, however, that the Seer had been planning to resign for some time now.



Regardless of her reasons for leaving the school, it appears that once she left she happened upon a bad sort and found herself quite dead. Her body was found late yesterday afternoon outside of Little Hangleton. The authorities are unsure how long she has been dead. They are sure, however, that the professor was in fact an unfortunate victim of the Killing Curse. They also say that she showed some signs of prolonged torture. The question arising. Why anyone would want to kill, let alone torture this introverted seer? In these times of crisis, it appears that one does not need a reason to attack the innocent. Authorities are suspecting she is yet another victim of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters.



It had been confirmed mere days before, that the board of directors would not close the school after its Headmaster’s death. There has been no official word yet, on whether or not, the untimely death of yet another Hogwarts professor will prompt another look at closing the school. Headmistress McGonagall assures this reporter that no such action will take place unless it is deemed absolutely necessary. She goes on to say, that Hogwarts is still one of the safest places to be in these troubled times.



The room was quiet, as Fred finished reading the article out loud. Harry continued to pace the floor his mind racing. “He knows. He knows the whole prophecy, now,” not knowing that he was saying it out loud.



“What do you mean, Harry?” asked a perplexed Fred. “Who knows about what prophecy?”



Harry ignored Fred and continued to sit quietly. Hermione was the one to answer him, “Voldemort, he knows the full prophecy.”



“How do you figure that?” asked Mr. Weasley, a bit taken back by this revelation.



Hermione sighed and turned to Harry. “Harry, I think you should tell them. It’s not like it matters anymore, since he already knows.”



Harry finally stopped pacing, and turned around to look at his friend. He was slow to respond. “I suppose you are right. I just thought I would have a little more time, but it seems like I’m not going to get much of that. We’re so far away from completing the tasks. What if he comes for me and I’m not ready, Hermione?”



Hermione stood up went over to Harry’s side, and gently put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. We always do.”



“Yeah, Harry,” Ron said. “We will figure this out. Things will come together you’ll see. I mean we already have several leads.”



Harry became agitated, and started to pace again pulling away from Hermione, “Leads! What good are leads going to do us, if they don’t go anywhere! No! We need hard, cold results, which means we need to stop wasting our time with unimportant stuff and get to work!”



“Calm down, Harry. We are not disagreeing with you at all, but look at the facts. Dumbledore has been searching for years, to do what you’re trying to do in a short period of time. He was only able to get one done successfully. You can’t expect this to go any quicker than it already is,” Hermione soothed.



“I understand that, Hermione, but let’s face it. I may not have years. I might not even have months. This has to be finished and the quicker the better. Look guys, I know you said you’d help, but maybe I should just continue this on my own. It’s just too dangerous.”



“The hell you will!” yelled Ron. “You just said this has to be done quickly. The more people you have working on this the quicker it will be done.”



“I have to agree with Ron on this, Harry. You need us, whether you realize it or not. We are not going anywhere and we will all see this through to the end.”



“Will someone please tell us what’s going on!” interrupted a very exasperated Mrs. Wealsey.


“Yes, do tell,” Ginny spoke, wearing a concerned frown on her face.



Harry let out a heavy sigh, and sat back down at the kitchen table. He braced himself, before telling his story. He couldn’t tell them everything, but he could at least fill them in on some things, after all these people were the only family he had ever really known. It was only fair that they knew what was about to come.



“All of you know about the incident at the Ministry at the end of my fifth year.” Harry stopped, and looked around the room slowly, looking at each person in turn. He saw most of the heads shake at this comment. He then continued, “Well, it seems that even though the prophecy broke, it was not completely lost. A prophecy is not totally lost if the one who made the prophecy and the one who heard the prophecy can be found. I happened to know both of these people, though I did not know it at the time. It was Professor Trelawney who made the prophecy and Professor Dumbledore who heard it.”



Harry could see that several people were about to say something, but Harry put up his hand, “Look I know you have questions, but please let me finish. This is hard enough as it is.”



Harry waited a few seconds, to make sure no one would interrupt him and then he continued with his story. “Dumbledore took me into his office, after that whole fiasco at the Ministry and told me a few things. One of things he told me was the full contents of the prophecy.”



“So, what did it say?” asked George.



Harry closed his eyes. He could hear the words of the prophecy clearly ringing through his head. “Basically it stated that a child would be born near the end of July the following year, and he would have the power to defeat Voldemort.” Harry hesitated a moment before continuing, “It also said, that neither could survive while the other lives. Either he kills me or I kill him.”



A shocked silence gripped the room. Mrs. Weasley started crying again.



“So, the Daily Prophet was right. You are the chosen one.” Fred stated in awe.



“Yeah, I guess.” Harry shrugged. “Now, do you understand why it is important for me to leave and find a way to end this? It’s more important, now than ever. Now Voldemort knows, and he won’t stop until he finds me. At least at Godric’s Hollow, I’ll be somewhere he won’t find me.”



“But, Harry,it was your parent’s home and he’ll think to look there.” Mr. Weasley said concerned.



“Yes, I know he’ll look for me there, but he won’t find me.”



“I don’t understand?”



“The Fidelius Charm. Right Harry? That is what you had in mind?” Hermione asked.



“Yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”



“So what…” George was interrupted by a knock on the kitchen door.



“Hold that thought,” Mr. Weasley said as he got up from the table. He opened the door and stood there, gazing at the person standing on the front stoop. A gasp came from Mrs. Weasley, as she saw the person standing in front of her husband. Harry looked up to see what the fuss was about, and was taken back at who it was.

The sound of chirping birds washed through the house from the open door. A leaky faucet in the kitchen, tapped out a steady tempo into the porcelain sink. A fly buzzed around a forgotten plate of biscuits. Still no one spoke. Every eye, however, was trained on the nervous young man standing in doorway.


Mr. Weasley finally broke the heavy silence, “What do you want?”


“Hello, Dad. Can I come in?” Percy asked timidly.


Harry tensed, remembering Percy’s last visit. Mr. Weasley must have been thinking the same thing, because he just stood there not saying a word or moving.


“Are you alone?” he finally asked his son.


Percy looked down at his feet, a defeated look about him and answered, “Yes.”


Harry couldn’t believe it. The man standing in the doorway looked like Percy Weasley, but he wasn’t acting like him. It was a far cry from how he was acting the last time Harry had seen him, at Dumbledore’s funeral. Harry also remembered the last time Percy tried to visit the Weasley family, which was disastrous at best. Harry wondered what could have brought on such a sudden change. The same thought, that he was sure was running through everyone else’s head at that moment. Most of them, however, probably didn’t even care if he had changed. The damage had already been done. The paralyzing shock and disbelief that had gripped the room, suddenly turned into a surge of outrage and anger.


Ron shook visibly, as he stood up and pointed his finger at his older brother. “You have a lot of nerve showing your cowardly face around here!” he bellowed. “What makes you think you’re even welcomed in this house? After everything, you think you can waltz in here like nothing happened!”


“Yeah, you’d think after last year’s little scene you’d have enough sense to stay clear of this place.” Fred said, as he crossed his arms.


Percy winched visibly, knowing the worst was yet to come, “Look, I know I’ve acted like a prat but…”


“Prat, that’s putting it mildly,” Ginny said, as her eyes flashed with anger. “More like a world class jerk.”


“You should leave now, Percy, before you regret coming here,” George growled, as he too stood up, looking ready to fight.


“That’s enough!” Mrs. Weasley yelled loudly. Everyone looked at her, taken aback by her furious tone. “Percy came here on his own free will, and he has something to say. Even after everything he has done, he is still family, and we should hear him out. Arthur, let him in and close the door. You’re letting the flies in.”


Mr. Weasley reluctantly stepped aside, to let his son pass. He closed the door and spoke, “Why are you here?”


“If you’re here to get that stupid Minister to corner Harry again, you might as well turn around and leave right now,” Ron blurted out, before Percy could answer.


“Ron, its okay. It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” Harry tried to console, but Ron wouldn’t have any of it.


“No, Harry, it’s not alright. He has no right to come in here and use us to get to you. It’s dirty and low, just the kind of thing he would do to boost his precious stupid career.” Ron walked up to Percy and stood several inches from him. “If you’re really sincere about being here, then I demand an apology to Harry, and the rest of us.”


“Here, here!” Ginny, George and Fred chorused.


Percy looked down at his feet and fidgeted with something in his pocket. The room was silent, waiting for Percy to speak. After a few moments, he slowly lifted his head and looked in Harry’s direction, but not right at him. Percy spoke quietly, ”Ron’s right, I do owe all of you an apology, especially you, Harry. It was wrong of me to corner you in such a way. I know there really is no excuse for it, but you have to understand I really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”


“Yeah, you did. You could have told the git no, or sent us a warning or something.” Fred replied angrily.


Percy looked back down at his feet. “Your right, I could have handled the situation better. I’m sorry, Harry, and I’m sorry to the rest of you. I know I can’t expect a warm welcome after everything, but was hoping you would give me a second chance. I’ve missed you guys and I heard that Bill was getting married and I… I don’t know… I just wanted … I just want things to be like they use to be.”


“Fat chance of that ever happening, you git,” Ginny replied through clenched teeth.


Fred wasn’t buying Percy’s act either, “I don’t believe you. I think your lying.”


Percy looked taken back by Fred’s comment, like he had been genuinely hurt. “Why would I lie about missing my family? Contrary to what you all might think, I do still care for you all.”


This time George replied, “You know what I think, Percy? I think you’re a lying prat looking to further your stupid career like Ron said. This is just another ploy of yours, to do just that. If you had cared so much before, then why did you treat us like some worn out shoe?” he asked venomously.


“Yeah, how do we know your telling the truth? How do we know this isn’t just a way for you to spy on us? It seems to me that you have awfully good timing?” Ron asked suspiciously.


Percy’s nervousness quickly turned into anger, at his younger brother’s comment. ”I don’t understand. You think I was sent here as a spy? Who am I suppose to be spying on? You, Ron?”


“Enough!” Mrs. Weasley yelled. “He said he was sorry and I believe him,” she rushed up to her wayward son and embraced him warmly. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. After a few moments, she stepped back and looked up into her son’s brown eyes. “Percy, you are my son, and I love you no matter what you’ve done.” She then turned to look at everyone else in the room, a reproachful look on her face, “Percy has come back to us and he’s sorry for what he’s done. These have been a very troubled times for us all. I know we have each done things to each other we now regret, but no matter what happens, we are all still family. I know it will be hard for some of you, but we should welcome him with open arms.”


“But Mum…” Ron started to say, but was cut off by his mother with a sharp look. Ron fumed, but remained silent.


“Arthur, please prepare a place for Percy to sit,” Mrs. Weasley said, as she pulled her son toward the table.


“No mum, if they don’t want me around I can leave. I’d understand. I really was a git.” Percy told his mother.


“No. You’re not going anywhere, Percy. You’re staying and that’s final. Now sit down, you must be hungry.”


Percy looked at his mother in disbelief. He then looked around the kitchen. His gaze was met with hostile glares from his siblings and a guarded look from his father. He hesitated a moment, but sat down.


This was too much for Fred and George. They both backed away from the table, still glaring at their brother, “If you don’t mind,” George said.


“I think we’ve lost our appetites,” Fred finished, as he and his twin walked out the door closing it behind them, with a rather loud bang.


Attempting to lighten the mood, Percy remarked with an unconvincing laugh, “I see Fred and George are still attached at the hip as always.”


This earned him a stony silence. Percy looked down at his plate, trying to avoid the now very uncomfortable glares still coming from Ron and Ginny.


Mr. Wealsey looked at his son from the head of the table and started to speak, a grim look on his face. “Percy, your mother might accept you back with open arms and that’s fine. It’s her right as your mother. But you still have a lot to prove to this family, apology or not. That is if you really are sincere and want to come back. But I’m warning you, son. If you mess with this family again…”


“Arthur!” his wife hissed.


“No, Molly. Percy must learn that there are consequences to his actions. What he did to all of us was wrong and irresponsible.”


“But he’s family, Arthur. He was wrong, yes. He even admitted to it. Isn’t that enough? He didn’t have to come back here, you know.”


“I know. That’s what concerns me.”


“What are you saying, Arthur?” his wife asked.


He looked at Percy sizing him up, “Do you still work for the Ministry, for Minister Scrimgeour?”
“Arthur really, that is quite enough!”


“Molly, please,” Mr. Weasley fixed his gaze on his son. “Percy, I asked you a question. Are you still working for the Ministry?”


“Yes… but then so are you.” Percy whispered, as he fumbled with his silverware.


“Yes, I am, but I never put my career before my family. How do we know you won’t again?”


“Dad, I… I know there is no way you’ll believe me, but I’ve changed,” pleaded Percy.


“Changed? Changed how?” Mr. Weasley asked.


Percy let out a long drawn out sigh and answered his father. “I’m still working for the Minister, but I promise I won’t let it get in the way of my family again.”


“You didn’t answer Dad’s question. Why the sudden change?” Ron demanded.


“I told you. It wasn’t sudden. I’ve been feeling… well a little guilty, for the way I’ve been acting, and I just wanted to make up for it. So many bad things have been happening lately. It made me realize that if we don’t have family or people who love us, what else is there?”


“Oh, Perc!” Mrs. Weasley jumped up from her seat and ran over to her son, engulfing him in another hug. She pulled away and looked over to her husband. “See, Arthur. He is sorry and wants to make up for it.” She turned back to her son pulling him close to again, “and we’re sorry too, Percy. We all miss you and love you so much.”


“Thanks, mum.” Percy’s voice was muffled in his mother’s embrace. “That means a lot to me.”


“Don’t worry about the others, I’m sure they’ll all come around, once they realize how sorry you are,” his mother soothed, as she pulled away from him.


Ginny could no longer sit quietly, “I don’t care what you say. What you did hurt all of us a lot. I said it once and I’ll say it again, fat chance!” She turned around and ran upstairs.


Harry watched her go. He wanted to run up after her and comfort her. He could see the pain she was in from her brother’s visit, but he couldn’t allow himself to do that. He forced himself to stay in his seat and watch the family drama continue to unfold.


“I’m with Ginny on this. You can say whatever you want, Percy, but I still think you’re a fraud. Let’s go, Hermione, Harry. We have more important things to do than sit around here listening to this bloody git.” Ron got up from the table and started to head upstairs after his sister.


He was stopped by his mother, “Where do you think your going? You’re supposed to help your brother with the tents like I asked.”


“But, mum…”


“Don’t but me. We only have another day before your brother’s wedding and it will take all the help we can get to be ready in time.”


Ron looked dejected, but turned around and headed for the door leading outside. He looked back over his shoulder, “Are you two coming or what?”


Hermione and Harry got up, politely excused themselves, and went to join Ron at the door.
Harry was stopped by Mrs. Weasley, “Harry dear,” she said sweetly, “you don’t have to help if you don’t want too. I know you have a lot going on right now.”


“No, it’s all right. I don’t mind helping out. Really,” Harry reassured her.


“But what about… “


Harry interrupted her before she could finish, “It’s alright, Molly. I think I can put off my mission until after the wedding. To tell you the truth, I’ve been looking forward to it. It will give us all a chance to have a little fun before… Well you know.”


Tears sparkled in Mrs. Weasley’s eye, as she rushed up and pulled Harry into a hug. “Oh, you’re so brave, you poor boy. If there is anything I can do for you, just let me know.” She continued to hug Harry, squeezing him even tighter, nearly cutting off his circulation.


Harry stood quietly patting her back and looking at Ron with a pleading look.


Ron rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about “Mum and her bloody hugs.”


He then came to his friend’s rescue. “Mum, I think Harry’s got the picture. You can let him go now. You’ll crush the life out of him before Voldemort even gets a chance to try”


“Ron!” Hermione gasped and slapped him hard on the shoulder.


“Ouch! What was that for?” he asked, with a pained expression on his face.


“For being a tactless prat.” she scolded. “I can’t believe you said that.”


Mrs. Weasley let Harry go and turned to her youngest son a reproachful look on her face, “Ron, what kind of thing is that to say?”


“Sorry… I didn’t mean…”


Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm and maneuvered him toward the door. “No Ron, you never mean anything you say. Now, let’s go before you stick your foot any further down your throat.”


Harry just stood where Mrs. Weasley had released him grinning, “Really guys it’s okay. I don’t see what the big deal is. He didn’t say anything that isn’t true.”


“Why would Voldemort want Harry dead?” Percy asked curiously from the table.


“Percy! Not you, too. Run along you three. Right this minute.” as Mrs. Weasley tried to push the three friends outside in one push.


Anger stopped Ron in his tracks, as he shot his brother a dirty look, “Where have you been? When did Voldemort not want Harry dead?” Ron slapped himself on the forehead and continued in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “Oh, that’s right! You haven’t been around.”


“It was just a question,” Percy shrugged.


“Well, it was a stupid question, or didn’t you hear Harry is the Chosen One.”


Percy laughed, “Oh, that’s just a publicity stunt the Ministry spun to appease the public. No offense, Harry.”


Harry shrugged, “None taken. I figured as much anyhow. It’s not like I care what people think. Though, I do mind becoming an unwilling poster boy.”


Ron ignored Harry and continued anger seething through him. “But it’s true, Percy. Harry is the Chosen One. It seems the publicity stunt you fed the Daily Prophet was right for once, even if it was completely by accident. How’s that for politics?” he scoffed.


“Ron, that’s enough. Your mom’s right. I think you should go help Bill,” Harry sent Ron a warning glance.


Ron looked at Harry in disbelief, but before he could say anything, Hermione pulled him out the door.


Harry turned to Percy, who had a strange look on his face. “Percy, I know it’s none of my business, but I really hope you came back for all the right reasons. You’re lucky to have such a wonderful family. Take it from someone who has very little family, and the little I have, I wish I didn’t. So I hope you can work things out. As for you and me, I have no ill will towards you. You did what you had to. I understand that. I just hope we can be friends like we once were. But I do have to ask you one thing.”


Percy, who had been reluctant to look at Harry, since walking in the door finally did so, “What’s that?”


Harry met his gaze and held it. “I want nothing to do with the Ministry. I don’t agree with how they are handling things with the war, among other things. I already made that very clear to your boss on several occasions. You need to understand this as well. So you would be wise not to try and change my mind or give Scrimgeour any more chance encounters. You’ll be wasting your time and sorely testing my patience. Do you understand?”


“Yes, I understand,” Percy replied solemnly.


“Good. Well, I have to go upstairs to get something. I’ll join the others shortly,” Harry walked passed a speechless Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and headed up the stairs to his room.


Harry climbed the stairs, but instead of ending up outside his bedroom door, he found himself standing outside of Ginny’s. Soft muffles of what sounded like crying, which coming from the other side drew him to the door. Harry stood there for a moment, battling with himself trying to decide on whether to knock or not, but the decision was quickly taken away from him.


“Are you going to knock or stand there all day?” asked a voice from behind him.


Harry cringed, because he knew Ginny could hear the voice too. His suspicions were confirmed, when the muffled crying from behind the door stopped. He heard a soft thud and footsteps. The footsteps were getting closer to the door. Harry started to panic. He had to get out of here and fast. Whirling around, Harry confronted the person behind him, who he knew to be Hermione. “Oh, there you are. I was just looking for you. I thought we were going to help put those tents up.”


Hermione looked at Harry and smirked. She knew full well what he had been doing. “I was on my way to help, or didn’t you see me walk out the front door with Ron a few minutes ago?” She cocked an eyebrow at him waiting for his response.


Harry could tell Hermione wasn’t going to make this easy. “Yeah well… I err… I… so are you coming or not!” Harry finally blurted out angrily.


Hermione sighed, “Yeah, just give me a second, I have to get something.”


“Fine,” Harry huffed. “I’ll see you there,” he whirled around and ran up the stairs.


Hermione shook her head. She thought about yelling after him, to tell him he was going the wrong way, but she decided against that. Instead, she walked to the door Harry had stood in front of and opened it, almost hitting Ginny in the nose as she did so.


“Hey! Watch what your doing!” Ginny yelled ducking out of the way, just in time to miss the door swinging into the room.


“Sorry, I wouldn’t have almost hit you if you hadn’t been pressed up to the door like that.” Hermione admonished. She stepped into the room and closed the door, “The two of you really should talk, Ginny.”


“What do I have to talk to him about? He’s the one with the problem, not me.”


“I thought you where okay with this. At least that’s how I understood things to be.”


Ginny flopped onto the bed, lying on her back and watched, as Hermione searched her truck. She sighed, “I know Hermione. I was ok… well sort of. I just…I just miss him. I wish he could see that I want to be with him. I don’t care about everything else. I know I could handle it. I just wish he could see that, you know.”


“Ginny, Harry has a lot on his mind, and you know how he is. He’s very protective of the ones he’s close to. He’s lost so many already. He just doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of him.”


Ginny sat up on the bed and looked intently at the other girl, “You really think he likes me, Hermione? Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to break up with me. I used to think he liked me, but sometimes I wonder if maybe I wanted it too badly and I saw what I wanted to see. I don’t know. I’m just so confused. I’m confused and angry.”


Hermione found what she was searching for and promptly close the trunck. She walked over to Ginny and sat down beside her, “Look, I really think this is something you and Harry should work out together and it’s becoming obvious to me that he isn’t going to be the first to bring up the subject. Maybe you should.”


Ginny pouted crossing her arms, “No! Harry ended it. Why should I go groveling back? If he really wanted to be with me, he’d say so.”


“I wouldn’t bet on it, Ginny. When Harry makes up his mind about something, it’s not so easily changed. I’m afraid that if you really want know how Harry feels, you’re going to have to go to him.”
Ginny gave Hermione a dirty look.


“Just think about it, okay.” Hermione got up and stopped. She looked at the frustrated red head and added softly, “I really do think he likes you a lot. More than, maybe he even, realizes.” Hermione then turned and left leaving Ginny looking after her, as she closed the door quietly behind.


Hermione stopped, squared her shoulders, marched up the stairs to the landing outside of Harry’s door, and knocked.


“Come in,” a voice said from the other side.


Hermione entered the room and saw Harry starring out the window that over looked the back yard. She walked up and stood quietly behind him. She peered over his shoulder, to see what Harry was watching so intently.


One of the huge tents had already been successfully put up. Mr. Weasley had joined Bill and Ron outside. The three of them were currently working on the second tent. The work however was being severely hampered by Fred and George, who had hexed a bunch of garden gnomes to dance silly jigs around the feet of the working men. This earned the twins dirty looks and rude gestures from the others, as they tried to avoid stepping on the pesky creatures. In trying to jump over a pair of gnomes doing a weird looking waltz, Ron tripped on a gnome doing double back flips and ended up in the nearby pond.


Harry watched the scene with a smile, as he absent mindedly stroked his forehead. “I thought you had gone to help them?” he finally asked Hermione.


“I was, but I thought I’d see if Ginny wanted to help.”


“Somehow, I don’t think she’s in the mood.”


“No, she’s not.” Hermione stated with a sigh, as she continued to look out the window.
Ron had managed to pull himself out of the pond and was currently running after Fred and George, sending curses hurling at them with his wand. Most of them missed and hit some the dancing gnomes causing them be stunned or to walk on jelly legs. One curse hit the already set up tent, nearby catching it on fire.


“I thought you said it had stopped hurting.” Hermione asked, concerned for her friend.


Harry turned to look at Hermione his eyebrows slightly raised, “What stopped hurting?”


Hermione pointed at his forehead, “Your scar, or did you know you were stroking it like you use to. Why haven’t you said anything? Are the nightmares back?””


“I honestly didn’t notice. And does it matter?” he answered, slightly annoyed.


“Harry it does matter. If the nightmares are back, you should start practice Occlumency again, if you haven’t started already.”


“I’ve been trying, but in all honesty I don’t think it’s doing any good. It only seems to make it worse.”


“Well, maybe you’re not doing it right.”


“Don’t you think, that thought has already occurred to me? I’m telling you Snape didn’t teach me right.”


“Well…”


“Hermione, can we just not talk about it right now? My head hurts and this conversation is going no where.”


“Fine, then lets talk about Ginny.”


Harry let out a long sigh, “I really don’t want to talk about that either.”


“I’m sorry, Harry, but I think you need to talk about it. More importantly you need to talk to Ginny.”


“What do you mean?”


“Oh, come on, Harry. I think it is more than obvious what I mean.


“You keep saying that you want to stay away from her because you want to protect her. Well, I hate to say it but it’s a little late for that. I mean anyone with eyes can see how you two care for each other, even Ron does. And that’s saying a lot, because in those types of situations he’s really quite clueless. If Ron knows, how long to you think it will be until Voldemort finds out if he already hasn’t? And Ginny is already in danger because she is the sister of your best friend.


“If you don’t want to be with Ginny that’s fine, but you need to talk to her and tell her that. She needs to hear how you feel. You also want to be sure if you’re breaking up with her, that it’s for the right reasons. I know you have a lot on your plate, but you really should make time for this. Take my advice please.”


Harry snorted, “Well that’s calling the cauldron black. What about you and Ron?”


“What about us?” Hermione asked indignantly.


“When are you two going to admit your feelings to each other? You two have been mooning over each other for a while now. And if you want to talk about obvious, I don’t think there is a single person at Hogwarts who hasn’t noticed.”


Hermione blushed a deep red, and tried to cover her tracks, “You’re changing the subject Harry.”


“No, I’m not. You want me to take your advice. Why don’t you take your own advice, if it’s so good.”


“Harry, I really…”


“No, Hermione! I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s really none of your business. Why should I take your advice, when you won’t apply it to yourself?”


Hermione was quiet for a few moments then sighed, “You’re right Harry. I’m sorry. I tell you what. If I talk to Ron, will you talk to Ginny?”


“I don’t know, Hermione. I guess I should. In fact, I’ve been trying to get up the courage to talk to her. I just don’t know what to say.”


Hermione laid her hand on his shoulder. “Say what’s in your heart, Harry. That is the best you could ever do.” She paused a moment, then turned and left the room.


Harry resumed looking out the window thinking about what Hermione had said. She was right. He did need to talk to Ginny, and he needed to start being more serious with practicing Occlumency.


He stood there watching the activity in the backyard. He watched as Bill was finally able to put out the fire Ron had accidentally set. Luckily, it hadn’t done too much damage. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley had had enough of the dancing gnomes and was currently banishing them back to the garden. Fred and George were trying to hex the tent flaps to dance, since they had lost their gnome population, when Mrs. Weasley came barreling out into the yard, scolding the two boys, threatening them with bodily harm. Harry turned from the crazy scene and walked out the room. He was done brooding for a while. It was time to join the fun.

“Hurry up, you two!” Mrs. Weasley yelled from downstairs, “it’s going to start in five minutes!”


“You go ahead, mate. I think I’ll just stay here all day. They probably won’t even notice I’m not there,” Ron said as he viewed himself in the full length mirror with a scowl on his face.


“Ron, they’ll notice. You’re one of the groomsmen and the groom’s brother,” Harry told his distraught friend.


“This is a bloody nightmare. Look at me. I look worse than I did for the Yule Ball in fourth year. It looks like one of Fred and George’s pink pygmy puffs puked all over me.”


“It’s not that… b-b-bad,” Harry said as he tried to stifle a laugh. He had to admit, Ron did look silly wearing pink dress robes, which was made worse by his fiery red hair.


“Oh, yeah. How would you like to wear this stupid thing? You’re lucky. You get to wear whatever you want.”


“Ron, you won’t be the only one wearing it. Charlie is wearing it too.”


“Yeah, whose bright idea was that? I can’t believe Bill agreed to this.”


“I don’t think it was anyone’s idea. I overheard Fleur and your mom talking yesterday. Evidently, the robe maker got the colors mixed up. Fleur was pretty upset, but it was too late to change,” Harry grabbed Ron and headed for the door, “come on. We have to go. If we’re late, your mom won’t be happy.”


“Fine. I’ll just be glad when this wedding is over and I can take this pink hell off.”


The two young men left the room and went to join everyone downstairs. As they headed down the stairs, Fleur’s voice could be heard coming from one of the bedrooms below.


“Eet is ruined. My dress is ruined. First ze dress robes, now zis. 'Onestly, 'ow could that robe maker think I would want pink dress robes for ze groomsmen? My wedding is a complete disaster!” she broke down crying.


“It’s not that bad, Fleur. I can fix it. No one will notice,” Mrs. Weasley could be heard, trying to console her.


“But I’ll notice. I just can’t get married like zis. I just can’t,” Fleur managed between sobs.


“Calm down. Everything will be alright dear. It’s just a little tear,” Mrs. Weasley said.

She saw Harry and Ron through the open door and ran to them, “Oh, thank goodness you’re done. The ceremony is about to start any minute now. Run downstairs and tell them we’ll be down in a minute.”


Harry looked in and saw Fleur crying, “Is she going to be alright?”


“What? Oh yes, she’ll be fine. There was just a little incident involving Crookshanks. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing at all. Now shoo,” she said, as she pushed them out the bedroom door and closed it.


“Okay,” Harry replied to the closed door.


“Well, at least Fleur doesn’t have to wear pink dress robes,” Ron muttered under his breath.


Harry and Ron walked the rest of the way down the stairs into the kitchen. Ron wasn’t watching where he was going and ran smack into Tonks, who was carrying a cup of tea. The tea ended up all down Ron’s front.


“Wotcher, Ron!” Tonks exclaimed as she quickly grabbed the cup before it crashed to the floor.


“I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Ron apologized.


Ron looked upset at first, but then got a wicked look on his face, “That’s alright. I guess this means I’ll have to change.”


“Oh, that’s not necessary. I know a really good spell that can clean anything out of clothes. I learned it, because I kept spilling stuff all over myself. It’s a curse,” Tonks said.


“You do?” Ron’s hopeful face quickly fell, “oh.”


“You run a long, Harry. I’ll fix up this handsome fellow and send him along shortly.”


“Well, alright,” Harry shrugged.


Harry left his friend with Tonks and headed out to the backyard to find his seat. He entered the tent and saw Hermione waving from the front, where the reserved seating for the family was. He picked his way through the crowd to get to her.


“Hey, you look nice,” she commented.


“You do too,” Harry observed and she did.


She had on a pale blue dress trimmed in silver. It wrapped around her neck, leaving her arms bare and it flowed to her knees. A wrap the same color of her dress draped around her shoulders. The wrap shimmered in the light slightly as she moved. Her hair was pulled back, and piled on top of her head in curls. She looked very un-Hermione-ish. Ron would flip when he saw her.


“Thanks,” Hermione replied blushing slightly, “where’s Ron? Why isn’t he up front with Bill and Charlie yet?”


“He’s coming. He spilled some tea on his clothes and Tonks is cleaning him up.”


Hermione sighed, “And dinner hasn’t even been served yet. That will be a disaster waiting to happen.”


Harry grinned, “You’re probably right.”


Harry looked around to see who had all come. The tent was filled almost to capacity, but the majority of the people Harry had never seen before. He did see that most of the Order members were there, as well as a few faces he had remembered seeing at the Ministry and Diagon Alley. From the look of things, most of the wizarding community in Britain and France had shown up. He also caught a glimpse of Percy near the back, with Minister Scrimgeour.


“Great,” Harry groaned, as he turned back to face the front.


“What?” Hermione asked.


“Scrimgeour is here.”


Hermione looked back, “Who invited him?”


“Does it matter?”


“Don’t worry, Harry. I’m sure he got the hint and will leave you alone.”


“Don’t count on it.”


Somewhere, music began to play and everyone in the tent became quiet. All heads turned, as a procession of people walked down the middle aisle. First, Fleur’s parents where escorted to their seats. Then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were seated by Harry and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley smiled at the two, as she took her seat.


The bridal procession came, next lead by Ginny. She was absolutely stunning in a gold silk dress that touched the floor. It wrapped around her form and stopped at her shoulders, leaving them bare and white. Her hair cascaded down around her, framing her face in curls. White flowers were placed strategically throughout her hair, adorning it. She was breathtaking.


“You should close your mouth, before you catch some flies,” Hermione whispered at Harry’s side.


Harry noticed his mouth was indeed open, and quickly closed it. He tried to distract himself by observing the rest of the wedding party. Gabrielle had already taken her place up front by Ginny. A little girl was currently sprinkling the aisle with white and pink rose petals. Ron had slipped into the front, and stood next to Charlie, who was standing near a nervous looking groom. Bill looked very dashing in his black dress robes, despite the visible scars marring his face.


The music changed and everyone in the tent watched as Fleur entered. She was radiant. People throughout the tent gasped in awe, as she slowly walked down the aisle in time to the music. Harry didn’t understand why Fleur had been so upset about her dress. It looked beautiful on her. Mrs. Weasley must have been able to fix it. Fleur finished walking down the aisle and joined her future husband at the front.


Harry listened as the ceremony commenced. He soon became lost in the words, as he witnessed the scene before him. The love that Bill and Fleur shared was so obvious and so pure. It was there for all to witness. It made Harry’s heart soar to see two people so in love come together and become one. Even in these troubled times there was still hope. There was still love and Fleur and Bill were bright beacons symbolizing it for all to see. It was so wonderful and priceless. Harry only hoped that he would one day be able to find such happiness.


Harry looked at Ginny. She stood there so beautiful and so perfect. He felt like he was flying. How could he turn away from her? How could he break up with the best thing that ever happened to him? She was a light on his dark path. She was a symbol of hope and love that he wanted so bad. He had been happier the short time he had been with her, than most of his life. She was his happiness.


Ginny must have felt his eyes on her. She looked at Harry, their eyes meeting. A wild and fiery sensation surged through his body, engulfing him in a fierce embrace. It felt like his whole body was on fire, and he couldn’t breathe. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel this way? Why did he feel like he was making a big mistake by pushing her away?


Harry could see the brimming tears in her eyes. Was she crying because she was happy or sad? It crushed Harry, to think she might be sad. More so, when he figured it was probably him that had caused the sadness in the first place. His heart squeezed painfully. He wished it didn’t have to be this way. He wished he could live a normal life, like normal people. But more importantly, he wished he could be with Ginny.


He broke eye contact with Ginny and pretended to be listening to the ceremony, but he had lost interest. He could only think of the possibilities and the future. These things he was currently robbed of, until he completed his mission. His mission should be his only concern right now. At least, that’s what he tried to keep convincing himself of, but his thoughts always came back to her.


He chanced another quick look at Ginny and saw that she had turned her attention back to the ceremony. Harry stared at her, engraving the image of her and this moment in his mind. He wanted to keep it with him always. Harry smiled as he soaked in the scene.


Harry felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked over to see Hermione eying him.


“Pay attention. The ceremony is almost over,” she said.


Harry looked up front, to see that she was indeed right. That was fast. It seemed like it had just started. He must have been daydreaming longer than he thought.


“Now I pronounce you husband and wife. May you both grow with each other and become come one, physically and magically,” the official said as he tapped his wand gently on the grooms and then bride’s head.


“You may kiss the bride young man,” The official stated when he had finished.


The newlyweds came together in a passionate kiss. A bright light wrapped around them, engulfing them momentarily. It soon dissipated and the couple pulled apart turning to the audience.


“May I present Mr. and Mrs. William Weasley,” The official announced.


Everyone in the tent broke out clapping. Harry added his own clapping to those around. Tears were streaming down Mrs. Weasley’s face, as Mr. Weasley held her against him. Fred and George could be heard hooting and hollering several seats down. Hermione was clapping vigorously, tears in her eyes.


The newlyweds took each others hands and walked down the aisle. A large grin was on Bill’s face. He winked at Harry as they passed. Harry smiled back.



***


The reception had been going full blast for more than an hour. Everyone was enjoying themselves as they spread out under the tents, and into the rest of the yard. People lined up to the rows of tables setup with lavish foods. Others mingled with friends and family. A radio blared over the crowd playing songs from popular wizard bands. Harry had joined the festivities and had gotten three plates laden with food.


Harry went to get a piece of freshly cut cake, when he spied the Minister making his way through the crowd towards him. Harry quickly ducked around a tree to evade the Minster. He really didn’t feel up to talking to the bloody git right now.


“Trying the give the Minster the slip are you?” he heard a growl behind him.


Harry jumped and whirled around. Standing close behind him was Mad-Eye Moody, leaning on his cane, his magical eye spinning in all directions.


“Oh, it’s you,” a startled Harry sighed in relief.


Moody took a seat on the nearby garden wall. He nodded at spot beside him, “Sit. We need to talk. I’ll run the Minister off if he comes by. He never did like me much.”


Harry liked the idea and sat down beside the man, “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked guardedly. He had an idea of what was coming next.


Moody looked at a couple talking quietly in the garden, but his magical eye was still fixed squarely on Harry. He paused a moment before speaking, “I won’t waste your time, Potter, so I’ll get right to the point. Dumbledore hinted at the fact that you’d play a pivotal role in this war. He went so far as to include you in wherever the two of you went the night he died. Minerva and Arthur also tell me you’ve been privy to a lot of information, and that you know more about Dumbledore’s plans than anyone. You might consider helping the Order out by letting us in on what Dumbledore was planning.”


Harry sighed heavily his suspicions confirmed, “I would love to help. I really would, but I can’t. I’m sorry. What needs to be done, I have to do on my own.”


Moody grunted, “Ummm… I figured as much, when I heard you were planning on running off on your own. Just watch yourself, aye Potter.”


“I will,” Harry stated.


“I also wanted you to know that you’re more than welcome to come and sit in on some Order meetings, if you like.”


“Ahh… thanks… I think,” Harry was slightly taken back.


“I figure, since you’re striking out on your own, you meet the qualifications for becoming an Order member. I also thought it might help you get information for your own mission and maybe open some other opportunities for you.”


“Like what?” Harry asked curiously.


“Like some advanced training. You’re not too bad, Potter. I’ll give you that much. You’ve managed to do what no one else has done before, by facing Voldemort and his Death Eaters on several occasions without much training. But you still lack the proper training and experience to win. The Order has a collection of experience and well trained people that you could learn from.”


“Thanks, Moody. I appreciate the offer. If this was last year, I’d probably jump at the chance, but now … things are different.”


Moody grunted, “No matter how busy you get you should always allow time for proper training. Remember that, Potter. If you change your mind…”


“I know where to find you. Wait the headquarters is still…”


“Yes, still there.”


Moody got up from his perch on the wall. “One other thing, I received this letter yesterday. It’s to you.” He pulled out a folded piece of parchment from his coat.


“Me? I don’t understand. Why was it sent to you? Who’s it from?”


“It’s from Snape. I guess he couldn’t send you a letter directly, without the wrong people finding out about it,” Moody growled with distaste.


“Snape? What does that slimy git want?” Harry said venomously, as he eyed the letter.


“I can’t rightly say. But I’d be careful regardless. That treacherous snake is probably trying to draw you out in the open,” Moody handed him the letter, “watch you back, Potter,” he turned and hobbled away.


Harry sat a moment, looking at the unopened letter in his hands. His hand shook with rage as he slowly opened the letter. Rage colored his sight, making him blink a few times to clear his vision before he could read the contents.



Potter,

We have to talk. Meet me where it all began. I have some information that you might find invaluable. Come alone.

Snape



Invaluable information huh, what information could that greasy murderer have that he could possibly find invaluable? Where it all began? What did he mean by that? Mad-Eye was right. It did sound like a trap. That’s alright, he’d still go. Just to catch the murderer, and make him pay for what he did.


He needed find Ron and Hermione. He needed to tell them about the letter. Where were they? He hadn’t seen them since the wedding had ended. He had tried looking for them earlier, but with no luck. It seemed strange, since he thought Ron would be parked out by the food.


Harry circled the crowd looking for his two friends, but also keeping a watchful eye out for the Minister. After three trips around the yard and tents, Harry still had not found them. He was starting to get worried.


He hadn’t checked the house yet. So Harry turned toward it, but before he could get there he noticed Mr. Weasley’s shed, or rather a wrap lying near it. It looked like the wrap Hermione had during the ceremony. Harry switched directions, and veered toward the shed. As he got closer, he could hear a loud thud coming from inside. Curious he went closer to investigate.


Harry crept along the edge of the building. He heard another clang coming from behind the wall. He snuck to the door and very carefully turned the knob. In one movement, he pulled the door open and jumped into the tiny shed. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.


Both of his friends where lip locked, groping furiously at each other on the dirty floor. Hermione was beneath Ron. Both of their clothes were half off, and Ron’s his hands were slowly moving toward… Harry immediately became beat red from head to toe, at a loss for what to say.


“Harry, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Ron yelled, as he noticed his friend’s entrance.


“I… Ah… I… err…” Harry was unable to move or speak.


“You could knock next time,” Hermione blushed trying to cover herself.


“I… err… I heard a noise and wanted to check it out. I wasn’t expecting… I mean… I err…”


“Well, you checked it out. Now you can leave,” Ron said, as he quickly got up and pushed Harry out the door, closing it with a bang.


Harry stood there for a moment, still in shock at what he’d see, “I guess this means you and Ron talked,” he said at the door.



“Yeah, now go away,” a voice said from the other side.


Harry turned away from the shed and left giving them some privacy, or what was left of it. He laughed hesitantly. It was good to know his stubborn friends had finally gotten together. Next time, he’d make sure to knock before entering any room or shed.


Snape’s letter forgotten, Harry walked back up the driveway toward the house trying to shake the scene from his mind. He wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped into something solid.


“Do you make it a habit to knock into people?” Ginny asked angrily, as she tried to regain her balance.


“Oh, hi,” Harry backed away, blushing.


Harry was stunned to see he had run smack into Ginny, again. At least this time he hadn’t knocked her over and ended up on top of her. This thought made Harry blush even more.


“Hi,” he said again, embarrassed.


Ginny put her hand on her hips and glared at him, “Is that all you can say? Aren’t you going to apologize?”


“I’m… I’m really sorry, Ginny. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he replied with a shrug and looked down at his feet. Ginny always looked twice as beautiful when she got angry. Today was no exception.


Ginny snorted, “Obviously,” her voice oozed with sarcasm.


Harry cringed slightly at her tone. It was unmistakable. She was angry over more than just today’s incident. He hesitated not sure what to say next. He then thought about what Hermione had said a few days ago. Maybe Hermione was right, “Look, Ginny, I… I think we should…”


“Aaahhhhh….” a shrill scream pierced the hot summer air.


“What was that?” Ginny asked, as she looked toward where the sound had come from.


Harry did the same. They both watched as a horde of people ran screaming from the Weasley’s backyard toward them.


Harry got a knot in the pit of his stomach and he started to sweat, “I think I know.”


“What?” Ginny looked at Harry. Fear starting to cloud her face.


“Death Eaters,” Harry replied gravely.


As soon as Harry said this, a shot of green light pierced the impending twilight. The sky lit up in the familiar sickly color. Shapes in the sky moved and formed into a snake and skull. His suspicions were confirmed.


Ginny gasped, “Harry, the Dark Mark.”


Harry whirled around to face her, “Ginny, listen to me. Get Ron and Hermione and go inside. They’re in your Dad’s shed.”


“Why? Where are you going?”


“Please, Ginny, just do as I ask,” he was starting to sound desperate.


“No, I want to come with you,” her voice rose to be heard over the now deafening noise.



Harry could tell she was getting angry again, “Ginny please, I’m asking you to do this,” he pleaded.


“No! I’m coming with you!”


Seeing the Dark Mark had sent panic through the crowd. People where screaming and running in all directions, now falling over each other in a hurry to get away. Ginny was being pulled away from him by the mad rush. Before he lost sight of her, he yelled at her again, “Ginny, go!” He turned around and headed in the direction of the Dark Mark without looking back.


As he ran forward, he pulled his wand from his pocket, ready for anything. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He hoped nobody would get hurt, but in the back of his mind he knew his hope was in vain.
It took awhile to get where the Dark Mark hung, because the crowd kept pushing him away from it, but he finally got there. What he saw, once he got there made him sick to his stomach. He’s fears had justified. Someone had been hurt. Someone had been killed. There lying in a clearing beneath the mark, laid the body of a woman.


Harry pushed his way through the people standing around in shock and went to the body. What he saw he wasn’t expecting. Disbelief and shock momentarily paralyzed him. He could not move or speak. His breath was coming in short hollow gasps. His hands trembled.


“Who is that?” someone from behind him asked.


It was a moment before he could say anything and when he did it was barely over a whisper,
“My aunt,” Harry replied.

Harry paced the kitchen floor of Grimmauld Place for the hundredth time. He was starting to get impatient. What was taking them so long? It had been almost an hour since Harry had found his Aunt Petunia’s body at the Weasley’s, after which he, Hermione, and the Weasley family had taken a Portkey directly to the Order’s headquarters. Moody and Mr. Weasley along with a few other Order members had gone to Privet Drive to check on his uncle and cousin. They should have been back by now.


Harry was becoming increasingly worried as every minute passed. He had to know if his uncle and cousin where okay. Granted he didn’t like them much, but no one deserved that kind of fate. Guilt and fear coursed through him. He should have known something like this would happen.


“Harry, will you please sit down. You’re pacing a hole in the floor.” Hermione told him.


“I can’t, Hermione. I should be at Privet Drive, not here.”


“I know you think that, but Moody was right. You’re safer here for the moment.”


“No. I should be out there with them. Why did I let them talk me into coming here?”


“Mate, listen to Hermione. Please don’t do anything stupid. You should stay here until the Order members figure out what’s going on,” Ron said looking worried.


Harry stopped pacing and faced his friend, “What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. Voldemort attacked my family to get to me, and to draw me out. He intentionally had his Death Eaters put my aunt’s body where he knew I’d find it. I can’t just to sit here while my uncle and cousin might be in danger.”


“And that is exactly why you should stay. You said it yourself, Harry, Voldemort is trying to draw you out. What if he is waiting there for you to show up? You’re not ready to face him yet and you know it,” Hermione tried to reason with her friend.


Harry knew Hermione was right, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He sighed heavily and resumed his pacing, “I should have known this was going to happen.”


The kitchen door opened suddenly, causing Harry to stop in his tracks. Moody and Arthur stepped into the room with grim looks on their faces.


Harry cringed knowing what had happened, but he asked anyways, “What happened? Are they okay?”


Mr. Weasley was the one to answer him, “Your cousin Dudley was unhurt, thankfully. He happened to be somewhere else when they attacked, but I’m afraid that your uncle was not so fortunate. I’m sorry, Harry.”


Mr. Weasley moved aside and revealed Harry’s large cousin standing in the hall way beyond, looking unharmed. Shock and curiosity was evident in his wide face, as he peered into the room. Harry locked eyes with his cousin.


Before anyone realized what was happening, Dudley had lurched at Harry screaming, “It’s all you’re fault!”


Harry was taken back by his cousin’s sudden reaction, but was able to move out of his grasp just in time. Dudley missed Harry by inches and his fist slammed into a wall instead. A loud crack could be heard, as contact was made.


“Coward!” Dudley bellowed furiously, as his whole body shook in silent rage.


“Dudley, I’m sorry,” Harry said trying to calm his cousin down, but he knew Dudley wasn’t listening.


“My parents should have never taken you in. Y-Y-You ungrateful…” Dudley started to say, but was unable to finish. Instead his massive body clasped to the floor where he was standing and his shoulders shook as tears streamed down his face.


Harry stood by not saying a word. He knew the pain his cousin was feeling and he wanted to console him, but Harry knew Dudley would never allow that. As far as Dudley was concerned, his parents death was his fault, and he was right. His aunt and uncle’s death were his fault. If Harry had not stayed with them, this wouldn’t have happened. Guilt engulfed him once more.


No one said a word in the room, mostly because no one knew what to say. Minutes passed by as Dudley remained on the floor not moving. Finally, Mrs. Weasley went to the young man.


“There, there Dudley. Let’s get you upstairs and into bed. You look like you could use some rest,” she pulled Dudley up with the help of her husband and escorted him out of the room.


Harry had not moved from his spot, as his cousin was led out. Dudley and his parents had been yet another victim of Voldemort and his tyranny. He had to be stopped. Deep in the pit of his stomach Harry could feel the anger building, and started to feel rage taking him over. Harry knew what he had to do. He had wasted enough time as it was.


“Harry,” he felt someone touching on his shoulder, “are you going to be alright?” Hermione asked.


“Yeah, I’ll be fine once this war is over. We have to go.”


“And where exactly do you think your going?” Moody asked, as he stepped in front of Harry.


“Somewhere I’ve been putting off too long,” he turned and looked at Ron and Hermione. “Are you two coming or what?”


Ron and Hermione quickly exchanged glances. They knew where Harry wanted to go.


“Sure, mate. We’re with you,” Ron said getting up from his seat at the table.


“Harry, are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe we should wait until the morning?” Hermione asked, uncertainty in her voice.


“No, we’ve put it off too long. We go tonight.” Harry quickly side stepped Moody and walked out of the kitchen before anyone could stop him.


Ron and Hermione hurried after him, not wanting to be left behind.





***




Dudley woke up from a troubled sleep with a pounding headache. His whole body ached in fact. He tried to open his eyes, but found it difficult. Slowly he managed to open them and adjust to the bright light in the room. His blurred vision finally came into focus and he was able to get a look at his surroundings.


A jolt of fear went through Dudley as he quickly sat up. He didn’t recognize the room he was in. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he started to panic. Where was he? How did he get here? Why was he in this strange place? Dudley rubbed his aching head trying to remember. Suddenly a flood of memories hit him like a ton of bricks and he remembered.


Someone had attacked his home and killed his parents, leaving him all alone. His world as he knew it had been drastically turned upside down within minutes. A part of him wished he had died with his parents, but he hadn’t. In fact, he had been at his friend Jeff’s house down the street, without a care in the world, when it had happened. Dudley laid his aching head back down on his pillow, as let the memories of the day before wash over him.


It was a Saturday afternoon, and Dudley had had a big argument with his dad about him coming to work with him. His dad had been pushing Dudley for a while to learn the business, so that he could one day take over, but Dudley didn’t want to. He wanted to pursue wrestling, which he was really good at. His mom had tried to intervene and calm the two men down, but Dudley had left the house in anger and had gone over to his friend Jeff’s house to cool down for a while.


He and Jeff had spent most of the afternoon holed up in Jeff’s room playing a new video game his friend had recently purchased. Dudley had just won his fifth round when there a soft knock at the bedroom door. The door burst open and in came Jeff’s ten year old sister Tilly.


“Jeff, come see, quick. There are some cool fireworks outside. I’ve never seen anything like them before.”


“Go away, brat, and you’re suppose to knock,” Jeff yelled at his sister.


“I did knock. Jeff, come see the fireworks, pleeeease,” she said jumping up and down.


“What fireworks? It’s not a holiday that I know of.” Jeff asked absently, as he continued to play the game.


Tilly grabbed Jeff’s shoulder and tried pulling him off the floor, “Come see. Come see.”


Jeff sighed as he threw his controller onto the floor. Tilly had distracted him and caused his character to die. “Look at what you made me do!” he yelled at her.


Tilly’s face screwed up as she started to cry.


“Alright, alright, we’ll go see your stupid fireworks, but this better be worth it. I just passed the sixth level. Are you coming, Dudley?” he asked.


Dudley shrugged, “Sure, I love explosives. Hey, maybe we can get some firecrackers and scare Mrs. Emerson’s dog.”


“Nah. We did that last week,” Jeff said as he walked across the hall to his sister’s room.


Dudley paused the game and followed. Jeff was already at the window when Dudley walked in.
“Whoa, check this out, Dudley. You won’t believe this,” Jeff said, as he stuck his nose to the glass.


Dudley moved to his friend’s side and looked out. High up in the sky a large green snake was moving around and was coming out of an even larger skull. It let off an eerie green cast that was becoming brighter and brighter, as the sun slowly dropped behind the horizon. It was the most bizarre thing Dudley had ever seen. Well, maybe not ever. He did see some weird stuff happen when his no good cousin Potter was around, but Harry had left a few days ago. So what was causing the weird fireworks?


“Hey, Dudley, aren’t those fireworks right over your house?” Jeff asked pointing out the window.


Dudley notice his friend was right, “Yeah they are. Maybe we should go check it out?”


“Let’s go,” Jeff said as they both headed for the door.


Once on the street the two young men walked toward Dudley’s house. Other people were already coming out of their homes to get a better look at the green sky. As Dudley got closer to his house, he could see a crowd of people gathering near it. Dudley got an uneasy feeling and started to run towards it.


“Hey wait up!” Jeff yelled.


Dudley ignored his friend and pushed the people out of his way, as he tried to move toward the front door of his house. He finally managed to get to the door he had stormed out of earlier, or what was left of it. It looked like it had been blasted off its hinges by something. The edges of the door frame were still smoking slightly.


Dudley stopped. The uneasy feeling growing inside him became stronger. A warning bell was going off somewhere in his head. It told him to run. Normally he would, but something unseen pulled him inside. Maybe he shouldn’t go in, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know if his parents were alright. Dudley tentatively put a step forward and entered the hallway. He slowly picked his way through the mess the blasted door had caused.


“Mum! Dad!” he called out.


No one answered. The house was silent. Dudley moved into the living room and froze at the grisly scene before him. Dudley was riveted to his spot too appalled to comprehend what he was seeing. The living room was in worse condition than the front hall. Furniture was broken and over turned. There were black scorch marks all over the walls. His mother’s good china tea set was smashed into pieces on the floor. Among the scattered china pieces, laid his father sprawled out on his back. Lifeless eyes gazed up at the ceiling and his face was distorted in a strange expression. Dudley quickly regained his senses and ran to his father’s side.


“Dad,” Dudley said as he knelt by his father. “Dad,” he said again, as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks.


Dudley’s hands shook violently as he touched his father’s shoulder, “Please be alright.” But Dudley knew deep in his heart that it was too late for him. He was gone.


Dudley didn’t remember much after that. He was in too much in shock at what had happened. Though Dudley was unsure of what exactly had happened or who would do such a thing.


He vaguely remembered strangely clad people that looked suspiciously like those “freaks” his cousin hung around with, come and pulled him from his father’s lifeless body. A couple of them stood around asking him questions, while others waved little sticks around cleaning up the mess in the room. Dudley thought about running and hiding in a corner, but was too frightened to move or speak.


A familiar red headed man came up to Dudley and put his hand on his shoulder. He told Dudley something about his parents being a victim of someone called Death Feeders, or was it Death Eaters. Dudley was too stunned to respond. His mother was gone too. How could this have happened?


The red headed man patted his shoulder and handed him an old dirty sock and before Dudley knew what was happening he felt a funny feeling pull at his navel. The world swirled around him and he felt sick to his stomach. When the swirling finally stopped, he landed on his hands and knees. His head was still swimming violently. Dudley remained on the ground hurling up his lunch. After he was done, a gentle hand pulled him to his feet.


“Come on. We have to get inside before anyone sees us,” a gruff voice said.


Dudley looked up and saw to his amazement that he was no longer in his parents house. He was in some dirty neighborhood he had never seen before.


“Where… where are we?” Dudley managed, curiosity getting the better of him.


The gruff man who had spoken before pushed a piece of rough paper into his hand, “Here read this.”


The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.



“Who is the Order of the Phoenix?” Dudley asked.


“Later,” the man snarled, as he took the paper back and limped up the steps of a house, which Dudley was sure hadn’t there just a few moments ago.


Dudley followed, still not sure of what was going on. The thought had occurred to him, that he was a sleep and was dreaming. If he was dreaming, he wished he’d hurry up and wake, because this dream was turning into a terrible nightmare.


Dudley entered the house and followed the two men into a room. Once Dudley entered the room, he looked around and saw it was a kitchen full of people. He didn’t recognize anyone at first. Until his gaze fell on some he knew very well. Suddenly it all clicked.


Dudley stood still for only a second, as red hot anger shot through him. Everything finally made sense. He knew why his mother and father were dead. He knew who was responsible for everything. Someway, somehow, Harry Potter was behind what had happened. He just knew it. Dudley clenched his fist. He wanted Potter to pay for what he had done to him and his family.


Dudley sprung forward towards his cousin, “It’s all you’re fault!”


Dudley struck his fist at Harry, but he cousin was too fast and moved out of the way. Dudley tried to follow, but his fist hit the wall.


“Coward!” Dudley screamed. He now was twice as angry, because he had missed and now his hand throbbed with pain.


“Dudley, I’m sorry,” Harry said.


Dudley shut his cousin words out. He didn’t care if he was sorry. He wanted his cousin to hurt as much as he was hurting now. “My parents should have never taken you in. Y-Y-You ungrateful…” Dudley couldn’t finish because of the sobs choking him. He clasped to the floor no longer able to control himself.


After what seemed like a lifetime, a red headed woman knelt beside him and pulled him gently to his feet, “There, there, Dudley. Let’s get you upstairs and into bed. You look like you could use some rest.” Dudley wondered how the women knew his name, but was too exhausted to ask.


He dimly remembered being helped upstairs and being put to bed. Once in bed, it didn’t take him long to drift off to sleep. The stress from everything had worn him out and sleep was a nice escape from reality. Maybe it was all a dream and when he woke up the next morning all would be as it once was.


But it wasn’t a dream. He knew that now. It was all real. Every single bit of it. His world had been turned upside down and it was all Potter’s fault. He didn’t know how or why, but he’d find out and then Potter would pay.


Dudley was jolted out of his reverie by a soft knock on the door. His rage dissipated, as a startled Dudley sat up in bed.


“Yes?” he asked tentatively.


“Dudley, if your hungry breakfast is on the table,” a woman’s voice said from the other side of the door.


Dudley’s stomach growled, reminding him he had not had anything to eat since yesterday at lunch. “Breakfast?” he asked.


“Yes, if you like I could bring it up here?” the woman said.


“Okay,” he replied.


Dudley settled back down on his pillow. He wasn’t sure if he could or even should eat. After all, his parents had just died. Dudley shuttered and pulled the blankets up to his meaty chin. They were gone. They were really gone and now he was all alone. What was he going to do? He had never been alone before. He had always had his parents. They had always done everything for him. He didn’t think he could survive without them.


Brimming tears began to fall unchecked down his cheeks. No. This can’t be happening. It just can’t. Dudley scrunched himself into a tight ball pulling the blankets over top himself. He would just lie here forever. Yes, that’s what he’d do. Who cared what happened next. His world was gone. There was no point to living anymore. Time passed and he dimly heard someone come in the room.


“Dudley dear, your food is here by your bed if you want it,” a voice said from the other side of the blankets. “Oh you poor boy, the pain you must be going through. If there is anything I can do for you let me know. I’ll be downstairs.”


Dudley heard a door open and then close. He remained where he was for a few more minutes, listening to his pounding heart beating in his chest. His very breath was slowly suffocating him beneath the sheets. He finally lifted the bed linen to get some fresh air. An assault of delicious foods rushed at him. His empty stomach growled in greeting.


Dudley sat up and looked over at a tray that contained every assortment of breakfast foods that he loved, but had been denied for so long because of his diet. Dudley greedily snatched up the tray and dug in with gusto, despite his diet and grief.


It only took minutes for him to finish everything on the plate. He ate like a man who hadn’t had a meal in weeks. By the time he was done the tray was clean, but not him. He ended up wearing a good portion of his food. Dudley licked his lips and slipped down onto the bed with eyes closed and a satisfied look on his face. He wished his mum would let him eat food like that instead of the healthy garbage she was always fixing him.


Dudley’s eyes snapped open. He had briefly forgotten about them. How could he forget about them? How could he enjoy such a wonder meal and wish his mother would stop forcing him to eat things he didn’t like? And how could he argue with his father like that? He should have told them how much he appreciated them, and now it was too late. Dudley felt an emotion that was totally alien to him creeping into his chest. He couldn’t put a name on this new emotion. It scared him. Was it guilt?


Dudley suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Maybe it was because he ate too fast, or the realization of what he had done. He wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter. He had to find a bathroom and fast. Dudley jumped up from the bed and rushed over to the bedroom door yanking it open. He ran into the hall, frantically looking for anything that might look like it led to a bathroom. He had to open several doors before he found the correct one. He barely made it in time. After several long painful moments of bringing up everything he had eaten mere minutes before, Dudley was finally able to rest against the bathroom wall panting. His stomach felt better, but his heart did not.


After sitting for what seemed like an eternity, Dudley finally pulled himself up off the floor. He flushed the toilet and turned on the sink leaning over it. He cupped both of his hands beneath the water and splashed in onto his face. He did this several more time before turning the water off. He stood there leaning on the porcelain sink, his two hands gripping the sides tightly. His knuckles turned white, he was holding so hard. The argument he had with his father the day before kept playing over and over in his head.


He looked up into the mirror hanging above the sink. His face was completely drenched. His blond hair was wet and wildly sticking up in all directions. His white shirt was wet in spots from him splashing his face and food stains covered a large portion. His chin had a two day old shadow. His eyes had a haggard look about them. Dudley had never seen himself look this bad before. Why should he? He had always had everything he ever wanted handed to him. His parents had always seen that he always got the best of everything, and the one time his dad ever asked him to do something he threw it in his face. Dudley eventually pulled himself from his ghastly appearance in the mirror and swaggered out into the hall.


He wandered around aimlessly down the hall, not paying attention to where he was going. He didn’t really care where he ended up. He just wanted to find something or someway to end his pain. It was too much for him to handle. His senses became dead and dull in his overload of emotions. So much, that he didn’t even notice when he walked straight into a wall. Dudley vaguely felt his head ache from the encounter, but did not stop. He merely made a ninety degree turn and continued to walk, until he was stopped by a familiar voice.


“Oh my, Dudley, you don’t look good at all. Here take a seat before you drop,” a familiar looking red headed woman said, as she rushed over to him and made a chair appear from thin air.


Dudley snorted as he took a seat in the chair that the woman offered. He would normally be frightened by the use of magic. There’s that “M” word. He couldn’t believe he had thought the word let alone tolerate it being used around him. But all of that didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered at all.


“Do you want anything to drink, dear?” the woman asked him.


Dudley licked his lips and uttered a soft, “Yeah, sure.” He felt the desire to be polite to the woman. After all, she was the only one who had gone out of their way to try to make him feel better.


The matronly woman again flicked her wand and a glass filled with a clear liquid appeared in her hand. And again Dudley did not even flinch.


She handed him the glass, “Here you go. Drink up.”


Dudley reached out to take it. His hands shook slightly, as he put the glass to his lips and took a sip. The water felt refreshing going down his sore throat. It felt like it had given him a spark of life, or maybe it the kindness he was receiving from a complete stranger.


Dudley looked up at the woman. “I don’t even know your name?” he asked her.


The woman smiled warmly at him, “I’m Molly Weasley, but please, call me Molly.”

It was now completely dark outside. The sun had set hours before and the moon was hiding behind a patch of clouds midway through the black sky. It seemed like Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been days ago, and not mere hours before, as the three searched for Old Leary Road. After being turned around several times, Hermione decided to ask a local shop owner, who was closing up, for directions. A few minutes later the trio was able to find the address without any other delays.


All three of them now stood before the quaint cottage, taking it in. It was strange. Harry had the impression from Dumbledore that the house had been severely damaged, but the house stood perfect as if the owners were asleep inside. Harry dared to hope for a second, that if he knocked on the front door, his dad would answer, but he knew this was only a dream and it would never come true.


The moon suddenly peeked out from behind the clouds and illuminated the cottage before them. The pale light revealed the house to look like any other house in the neighborhood. It sat secluded at the end of a long wooded driveway. Trees hugged the two story house, wrapping it in its own little world. A small stone wall was set off to one side, where a garden might have once been. A shed could be seen in the backyard, and a dirt pathway led up to the front stoop in an open greeting.


Ron and Hermione lingered nearby, not saying a word, as Harry stood silently. So this is where he and his parents had lived. Harry knew it would be difficult to come here, but he didn’t know it would be this painful. He finally had a chance to learn more about his parents and his past, but he couldn’t make himself move any closer. He was afraid of what he might or might not learn in the house, but they didn’t come all this way for nothing.


Harry took a deep breath and boldly stepped forward, pushing his emotions away. Ron and Hermione followed at a distance. Harry kept on moving, propelling himself to the front door. “Here it goes,” he said to no one in particular. He took another deep breath, turned the brass knob, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped inside.


It was difficult to see anything in the dark hallway before him, so Harry took the wand out of his pocket and whispered, “Lumos.” The light from his wand washed into the hall and allowed him to see a staircase in front of him, that led up to the second floor above. The hallway also opened up to two rooms on each side of the staircase. Harry made a decision and stepped into the room on the right.


The light from his wand flooded into the dark room before him, revealing it to be a sitting room. Harry saw a lamp sitting on a table to one side and turned the switch. To his surprise, the light came on.


“Why would the electricity be working?” Harry asked.


Ron, who had followed Harry into the room snorted, “More importantly mate, why would your parents live like muggles?”


Ron was right, as Harry looked around he saw two other lamps, a radio, and a small television scattered throughout the room.


“There’s nothing wrong about living like muggle. I live like a muggle,” Hermione scolded, as she walked into the room and immediately headed for a bookshelf in one corner.


“Maybe, that’s because your parents are muggles,” Ron scoffed.


Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to Ron with her hands on her hips glaring, “And what exactly is that suppose to mean?”


Harry sighed, “Hermione, Ron, I’m not in the mood to witness one of your lovers quarrels right now. So can you save it for later?”


Ron look surprised, “Lovers quarrel? What do you mean?”


Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh please, spare me, Ron. I saw the way you two were going at it earlier today in the shed, or don’t you remember?”


Both Ron and Hermione turned a bright shade of red, but neither of them said a word. Hermione turned back to the bookshelf pretending to look at it’s contents, while Ron found a small model of a Quidditch pitch and began playing with it. Harry shook his head and started to move through the room. He soon stopped as he caught a glimpse of a large portrait on the far wall by the fireplace. Harry stood riveted by the people in the picture.


It was a portrait of him and his parents. He must have been at least a year old. His baby self was currently squirming in his mother’s arms trying to catch a butterfly floating above his head, as she tried to hold on to him. His father stood behind looking down lovingly at his family. Harry watched in awe, not aware the man in the portrait had noticed his presence.


“Hello young man. What are you and your friends doing in this house?” the man in the portrait asked peering down at Harry.


Harry stepped back in shock, not sure how to respond. He knew portraits could interact with people, but had never dared hoped that there would be one with his parents in it. Harry was delighted and sad at the same time, because he knew the portrait was only a shadow of his parent’s former selves.


“Well are you going to stand there with that dumb expression on your face all day, or are you going to answer my question?” James barked.


“James, be nice,” Lily said, as she soothed a now crying baby Harry. “You’ve obviously scared the young man; and don’t raise your voice, you’re scaring the baby as well.”


“Sorry, darling,” James replied in a quieter tone, as he made funny faces trying to stop baby Harry from crying, forgetting the grown Harry standing in front of him. Baby Harry started to giggle at his father and put out his hands. The man took the laughing child and tossed him playfully into the air making the boy laugh even more.


Harry was so absorbed in watching the happy family, he didn’t notice Hermione trying to get his attention, until he felt a hand on his shoulder, “Harry,” Hermione said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. You do realize their not real, right?”


“I know,” Harry said quietly, his eyes still glued to the portrait.


Hermione paused a moment and then continued, “Look, I just wanted you to know that I saw this letter on the mantle. It’s addressed to you.”


Harry reluctantly peeled his eyes from the happy family on the wall, and looked at the envelope she had in her hand. Harry took the letter curious at who would have left it for him. He opened it and immediately looked down at the signature. Surprised at who had written the letter, he immediately began reading it eagerly.



Dear Harry,


I was hoping I could bring you home and surprise you with the renovations. After Voldemort’s attack I’m afraid the house was left in ruins. I’m not really sure what caused all the destruction. I’m assuming most of it happened when the curse rebounded on Voldemort, because the brunt of the destruction was centered on the second floor where your nursery was located. I didn’t want you to come here with it in such a state. So I took the liberty of cleaning up and remodeling. I even paid the electric company in advance so you could move right in if you wanted, when the time came.
You might be wondering what is with all the muggle stuff. Your mother was insistent on living like a muggle. She thought it important that you understand the muggle ways. Your father found it to be a great adventure and I enjoyed teasing them relentlessly about it.
Everything isn’t the way it use to be, but its pretty close. Some things were too badly destroyed to save. I was however, able to save the portrait of you and your parents. It was painted a few months before they died in celebration of your first birthday, despite the fact that neither of your parents were not much into making portraits of themselves. They considered this a special occasion and wanted to preserve their happiness. I hung it on the sitting room wall, exactly where your parents had it originally. I though it would be a nice surprise for you. Just don’t get too attached to it and don’t expect too much from it. But it might give you some insight on what kind of people your parents were. I’m sorry I never mentioned it before, but Dumbledore asked me not to tell you until you got a little older.
If you’re reading this letter, then my hope of bringing you here myself did not come true. This means I’m either dead or worse, back in Azkaban. Sorry, I can’t be there for you. I know it’s been tough for you and being in this house will be even more so. Just remember that your parents really loved you and that some of their happiest moments were with you in this house.

Sirius


P.S. Just so you know. I also stayed here for a time when I was in hiding. I hope you don’t mind.



Harry smiled at the post script. Of course he didn’t mind that Sirius stayed here. In fact, it made Harry feel better knowing that his godfather had spent at least some of his time on the run in this house.


“Who is the letter from?” Hermione asked curiously peering over his shoulder.


Harry handed the open letter to her, “It’s from Sirius. He wanted me to know that he had the place remodeled for me.”


Hermione took the letter and skimmed it, “Well, I guess that explains why the house is in such good shape. I was expecting to have to do some work to get this place ready for us to use.”


“So what’s next mate? Are we making this our new base of operations or what?” Ron asked, as he flopped onto the pale green sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table.


“Yeah, I just want to get a better look around. See where everything is at,” Harry replied.


Hermione finished reading the letter and handed it back to Harry, “I think that’s a great idea. I’ll finishing checking out the main floor if you two want to check upstairs.”


“How about I check out the kitchen?” Ron asked. “I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast.”


Hermione rolled her eyes, “Is your stomach the only thing you can think of?”


Harry could tell his friends were going to start arguing, so he quickly left the room leaving them and the portrait behind. He went back into the front hallway. After searching a moment, he found a light switch that lit up the stairs, and then climbed them to the second floor.


Once at the top, Harry found himself in yet another hallway. This one opened up to a corridor with four different doors along it. He went to the first door, stood in front of it, and slowly began to turn the knob. He suddenly stopped, backed up from the door, and continued down the hallway to the next door. Something seemed to be calling him to it. Once there he noticed it was already cracked open slightly. Harry gently pushed the door open. It squeaked loudly in the quiet hall. Harry hesitated only a moment before stepping through the doorway.


The light from the hall spilled into the room revealing it to be what must have been his old nursery. Harry noticed a rocking chair sitting near the door, while across the room from it was a small chest of draws. Next to that was his crib.


Harry stood still as a wave of strong emotion hit him. It was a mixture of fear, and hate and it penetrated every inch of him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something about this room felt terribly wrong, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.


“Harry!”


Harry stiffened. It sounded like his mother’s voice calling him, but how was that possible? Harry turned around quickly, found the light switch on the wall, and turned it on.


The room looked almost cheery in the golden light as he noticed the pale blue walls and stuffed animals sitting around. But Harry still felt a strange foreboding feeling radiating from the room, or maybe the feeling was coming from him and at his uneasiness at being in this house. Harry shook it off and advanced further into the room.


Harry went to his crib and put his hand on one of the railings. It had a dark wood frame that wrapped around a white mattress. The bed had little animals carved all over it and his name was engraved into the head board. Harry continued to run his hand up and down the railing, and noticed small cracks in the wood. He looked closer and realized that the whole bed had sealed cracks everywhere.


It finally dawned on him, just how much trouble his godfather had gone through to remodel his home. Most of the stuff in the house must have been replaced or fixed somehow. Harry’s heart swelled at this. He wished Sirius was still alive so he could thank him for going through such pains for him. It couldn’t have been easy with him being on the run.


“Harry!”


Harry whirled around at hearing his name again. He looked around frantically to find where the voice had originated from. Suddenly, the room started to fade in and out. Harry could vaguely see the outline of a woman next to him. A dark figure was standing in front of the female and Harry could hear the faint cry of a child waling.


“Harry, not Harry!” his mother’s voice was almost deafening this time.


Harry’s vision started to blur and the light from the room began to fade into blackness.
Again, he heard his mother’s voice before blacking out completely, “Not Harry, please not Harry!”




***



“Harry! Harry, wake up!”


Harry slowly drifted back to consciousness and felt someone shaking him by the shoulder. He opened his eyes, and saw Ron and Hermione standing over him. Harry slowly sat up.


“What happened? Why was I on the floor?” he asked.


“You tell us, mate. You were there when we came in,” Ron said, a worried look on his face.


“Did something happen?” Hermione asked.


Harry shook his head, “Not that I know of.”


“How did you end up on the floor?” Ron asked.


Harry rubbed the back of his head. He felt a bump starting to take form there. It must have been where his head had hit the floor. Harry looked at his two concerned friends, “I don’t know. I just stepped into the room, when I thought I heard something and the next thing I remember was waking up on the floor just now.”


Hermione’s raised her eyebrows, “You don’t remember anything else?”


Harry knew what she was getting at, “No, it wasn’t anything like that. This was different. It was like… I don’t know. It was like I was remembering something.”


“Remembering what?” Hermione asked curiously.


Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Everything is fine.” He felt like he knew what he was remembering, but didn’t want to tell them just now. The only other time he had heard his mother’s voice was just before a dementor’s attack. Even though Harry felt a bad feeling being in the room, it was different from what he experienced with them. This was almost like he was remembering a lost memory, but wasn’t he too young to remember anything at a year old? Harry didn’t understand what had happened. All he wanted to do was to leave the room and to leave the terrible feeling he had inside. He got up from the floor and quickly walked out of the room.


Only once he was in the hallway and the door closed did he turn to his friends and ask, “How long was I out anyways?”


Hermione wasn’t convinced that everything was okay, but she decided to let it go for now, “You came upstairs about half an hour ago. We came up looking for you because we found something you might be interested in.”


Harry perked up at this. Glad to put behind him what happened in the room, “Oh yeah? What?”


Hermione handed him a book she had been carrying.


It was an old battered photo album with warped pages and singed corners. It was already open to a page, “What’s this?” he asked.


Hermione pointed to a worn photograph, “Look.”


Harry looked closer, and noticed that the picture she was pointing at was a picture of a teenager Sirius and another dark haired boy.


“Yeah, it’s a picture of Sirius and someone else.” Harry shrugged, “What’s so important about that?”


“Harry, the picture is of Sirius and his brother. See it says so under the picture,” she said pointing at the caption.


“So?” Harry asked still not sure of where this was going.


“R.A.B!” Hermione exclaimed.


“I’m not following. Ron, what’s she talking about?” Harry asked as he noticed Ron hovering in the background.


Ron shrugged, “Your guess is good as mine. She was looking through that book when she started jumping up and down. Then she ran up here to find you. If you ask me, I think she’s finally lost it.”


Hermione sighed, “Fine, I’ll spell it out for you two. Regulus is R.A.B.”


Ron got a confused look on his face, “Huh?”


“What makes you say that?’ Harry asked looking confused himself.


Hermione took the photo album back, “Look, it all fits. We know for a fact that Regulus was a Death Eater and he died mysteriously years ago. We also know that he had access to Kreatcher, who could have helped him get past the lake. His last name is Black and what do you want to bet his middle name is Arcturus, after his grandfather. I just can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner.”


“How did you find out what his middle name is?” Harry asked curiously.


Hermione hesitated, “Well, I don’t know for sure what his middle name is, but his first name is Regulus after his uncle. So…”


“So we don’t know for sure that it is him,” Harry said.


“Well, it’s the best lead we’ve had. I think we should check it out.”


“Where do we start?” Ron asked.


“I would think that obvious. We need to go back to Grimmauld Place,” Hermione said.


Harry flinched. He was hoping he won’t have to go back there. Yes, he was there for a while as he waited to hear what had happened to the Dursley’s, but he was so wound up about the incident, that he barley noticed where he was. Harry had no desire to go back to the house that had been a prison for his godfather, and now his cousin Dudley was there. It just wasn’t a place he felt very comfortable in. Besides he still hadn’t finished investigating his new home, or why he blacked out in the nursery.


“Are you sure we can’t get the information we need somewhere else?” Harry asked hopefully.


“We could, but our best chance is that house. There’s also something I wanted to check out.”


“What?” Ron asked.


“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch,” Hermione said mysteriously. “Look, are we going to just stand here, or check this out?”


“Tonight?” Ron asked incredulously.


“Yeah, why?”


“It’s getting late and I’m tired. Can it wait until the morning?” he pleaded.


“Ron, this is the first real lead we’ve had and you just want to go to sleep? I really think we should check this out as soon as possible.”


“I agree with, Hermione,” Harry said reluctantly. She was right after all. It was the best lead they had had so far, and it was worth checking out. No matter how uncomfortable he felt about going back to Grimmuald Place. “I know you’re tired, Ron. We all are, but if Hermione is right about this lead…”


“Alright fine, let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get some sleep and hopefully a decent meal,” Ron grumbled.


“It’s settled then. Let’s go,” Hermione said as she led the other two down the stairs and out the front door.

It was nearing two o’clock in the morning and still the meeting was going strong. Molly wondered if she would ever get any sleep tonight. She was bone tired from all the wedding preparations, not to mention the chaotic activities that led them to have this emergency meeting in the first place.


Most of what had happened, immediately after the body was found, was a complete blur to her. She did know that Ministry officials had reacted quickly, and had gotten the situation under control. They had sent the still panicked and scared wedding guests home. Meanwhile, Moody had pulled a Portkey from his pocket, and transported the twins, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and herself to Grimmuald Place. Bill had stayed behind with Fleur and her family, who took a separate Portkey to France.


After Arthur, Moody, and the other Order members had helped the Ministry officials take care of the situation at the Burrow and the Dursleys', Moody had insisted that an emergency meeting be called to discuss the new developments, and what they meant. They had all crammed into the kitchen at Grimmuald Place, like always, while Molly had served refreshments before starting. That was nearly three hours ago.


“Moody, I understand your position on this, but all those theories won’t do us any good if we don’t know what’s going on. Let’s face the facts. Since Snape’s disappearance, we have no solid information on what is going on with Voldemort or his Death Eaters,” Arthur tried to reason with the older man.


“I know Snape is gone, and we are going to have to make due with what we have,” Moody barked at Arthur, while his magical eye swiveled to lock on to an unkempt man. “Mundungus, we may have to have you call in some favors. You’re the only one we have left who has any connections with the Death Eaters.”


“Me? I well… I…” Dung looked nervous. “I-I-I wouldn’t say I had connections with D-D-Death Eaters. Not like that.”


McGonagall had a doubtful look on her face, “Alastor, maybe we should consider looking into finding someone else we can rely on for inside information.”


“Who might you suggest, Minerva?” Moody growled. “You know as well as I, that Voldemort is not the trusting sort. Anyone he has won’t talk to us, and anyone we send in he’ll find. None of us here are trained for that kind of deception, and those of us who might be, are too well know for our allegiances.”


“Do we even know where Snape is?” asked Charlie.


“No,” Arthur replied, who was looking as tired as Molly felt. She really hoped this would wrap up soon. They had already covered this topic twice before. She didn’t see how a third time would make much of a difference.


Moody cleared his throat. All eyes turned onto him. “I did receive a letter from Snape yesterday. He addressed it to Potter.”


Arthur looked shocked, “Snape is trying to give Harry a letter. Why? And why didn’t you say something about this earlier?”


“Probably to lure him into a trap is my wager,” Moody said, as his magical eye rolled wildly in it’s socket.


“Did you give Harry the letter?” Arthur asked.


“Yes.”


Molly gasped, “Alastor, how could you?”


Others around the room had similar reactions at this surprising turn of events.


Arthur stood up and glared at the Auror, “Why did you do that, if you think it’s a trap?”


“I warned him to watch his back on this. The boy isn’t stupid. He can handle it, and he maybe the only one who can give us any information on what Snape is up to by meeting him.”


Molly was outraged. How could Moody be so calm about something like this? “Arthur, do something! You can’t just let Harry walk into a trap like that! He can’t be used as bait just to find out whose side Snape is on!”


Arthur remained standing as he continued to glare at Moody, “Alastor, I’ve been holding my tongue with some of the things you’ve been doing since you took over leadership of this organization, but this…”


“Arthur, sit down,” McGonagall interrupted sharply, a stern look on her face. She turned to look at Moody, “Do we know for sure this is a trap?”


“How can it not be?” Kingsley replied.


“We don’t know for sure, and we shouldn’t jump to conclusions, regardless of how we may feel,” McGonagall stated.


“So why did he send a letter to Potter? He could have made contact with anyone of us. It’s all a little too coincidental if you ask me,” Moody grumbled.


“What exactly did the note say? I’m assuming you read it before you gave it to Harry,” McGonagall made a gesture toward his magical eye, that was now watching Arthur very carefully.


“He wants him and Potter to meet, and says he has important information.”


“Did it say when and where this meeting was suppose to take place?” Kingsley asked.


“The note only said to meet where it all began, and to go alone. Whatever that means?”


“Well that sounds rather cryptic. It said nothing else?” McGonagall asked.


“No.”


“Where is Harry now?” Hestia Jones asked, from the corner of the room.
There was silence. Molly was very concerned about the trio, but had tried to set aside her uneasiness. The three had dashed off so quickly earlier, they were gone by the time she had gotten back down stairs from helping put Dudley to bed. She just wished she’d been downstairs when they had left. She was sure she could have found a way to keep them from going anywhere.


Arthur spoke up, “I think my son, Hermione, and Harry went to Godric’s Hollow. They where discussing going there after the wedding.”


I didn’t think there was much left of that place. I was under the impression it was destroyed,” Jones said.


“It was.”


“Sirius had it remodeled with some help from Remus a few years ago,” Tonks spoke up for the first time since the meeting had started.


The room was quite again. Everyone had been reluctant to bring up the topic of Remus. Charlie finally asked the question everyone was too scared to ask, “Has anyone heard from Remus yet?”


“No, and quite frankly we are getting very concerned. It’s almost like he fell off the face of the planet. He’s made no contact, and there have been no signs that he’s even still among the werewolves,” Elphias Doge wheezed. He had been assigned to find out what had happened to Remus, but apparently was not having any luck.


“I think it’s time to retrieve him,” Kingsley said.


“How? We have no way of going in and getting him. Remus knew the risks going in, He knew this might happen,” Moody replied.


“HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE! THE SACRIFICES HE’S MADE! WE CAN’T JUST LEAVE HIM! WE HAVE TO GO AND GET HIM!” Tonks yelled in a sudden outburst, surprising everyone in the room.


“Tonks please, we’re not going to just give up on him. We are just considering the risks of sending someone else in after him," Kingsley replied.


Tonks must have realized she had been yelling. She lowered her tone slightly, “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand the hesitation. If you want someone to volunteer, I’ll do it.”


“No, you have other responsibilities. You’re needed elsewhere. We talked about this,” McGonagall replied.


“Tonks, don’t worry. We will find him. No one is giving up on him. Please believe us,” Jones soothed from her corner.


Tonks slowly sat down tears still streaming down her face, “I just want to know that my… that he’s okay.”


“Would you like some tea, dear? It might help calm your nerves,” Molly asked, as she sent the teapot gliding with a flick of her wand. It settled in front of the distraught woman.


“Yes, thank you Molly,” Tonks said with a grateful look on her face.


“Not to change the subject or anything, but what are we going to do with the Dursley kid? I don’t think it is safe for him to go home just yet,” Kingsley asked, as he took a biscuit from the middle of the table.


“I agree. We don’t know why Voldemort attacked the Dursley’s. If this was an attempt to draw Harry out, the Dursley boy may not be safe, if he goes back home,” Moody replied.


“I think he should stay here at least for awhile. He has just suffered a great loss. I don’t think he should be alone,” Molly said.


“Doesn’t he have family he can stay with?” asked Jones.


“I believe he has an aunt. Other than that I don’t think so,” Arthur replied.


“Of course he has family, he has Harry!”


“Molly, I’m not so sure that Dudley wants anything to do with Harry. He made that very clear earlier this evening,” Arthur said.


“He was just upset. I’m sure once he’s had a chance to calm down he’ll have a change of heart,” Molly said.


“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Charlie said quietly.


The room was silent for a few moments. The crackling fire was the only noise in the kitchen.


“Did Potter say anything else when you talked to him at the reception?” McGonagall asked Moody, breaking the silence.


“No, but he gave me the distinct impression that he’s up to something,” he growled.


“Were you able to figure out what?” asked Kingsley.


“Hardly, he wasn’t saying anything, can’t say that I blame him.”


“Dumbledore’s orders where clear on this. We aren’t to press him. If he wants us to know something, he’ll come to us,” McGonagall said.


“But he’s just a child.”


“Now Molly we talked about this.”


“I know Arthur, but I…”


“We all feel the same, but Harry has proven himself before,” Arthur reassured his wife.


“But this is different. You’re talking about allowing him to face… to face… You-Know-Who all by himself,” Molly finally broke down crying.


Tonks passed Molly her own handkerchief. Molly smiled at her gratefully.


“No, that’s not what we are saying. We’re saying that Albus thought it important enough to leave us specific instructions not to interfere with anything Harry might do concerning Voldemort. He also mentioned that Harry knew his plans, and would carry them out. It is now up to us to be there for Harry if he needs help in anything,” McGonagall said.


“Shouldn’t someone explain this to Harry?” asked Hagrid, who had kept silent most of the meeting.


“I already did. I told him the Order is here to help if he needs it,” Moody said.


“But what if it’s not enough? Molly’s right, he still is young,” Arthur asked looking concerned.


“If Albus says to leave Potter alone, that is exactly what we are going to do. We can hope that Harry knows what he is doing. The best thing we can do is to keep a watchful eye on him,” McGonagall stated.


“So what…”


Before Arthur could finish, the kitchen door sprang open and Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the room. The three headed directly for the pantry in the corner, without so much as acknowledging the Order’s presence. Astonished at the intrusion no one said a word as they watched Harry jerked open the door and go inside. He was closely followed by Ron and Hermione. Seconds later everyone in the room could hear loud banging sounds of objects being thrown around and muffled voices coming from the small closet.


“What in Merlin’s name?” Jones replied, as everyone looked to each other with confusion.


A few minutes later Harry came out of the closet looking disheveled and a very frustrated, “It’s not here. I can’t believe it’s not here.”


“Calm down Harry. We’ll just ask Kreacher. I’m sure he moved it like he did all that other stuff,” Hermione said as she too stepped out of the closet in a similar mess.
“But it’s not there, or in the cabinet.”


“No, but maybe he hid it somewhere else,” Ron offered hopefully.


Harry didn’t look to be in a mood to be consoled, instead he yelled, “Kreacher! Kreacher! Where are you, you thieving…


Crack.


The old house-elf appeared before them, and bowed low as he addressed the floor. “Master called,” he said this in a condescending voice.


“Yes, I did. There was a small black box in the drawing room cabinet that contained a locket. Where is it?”


“That locket belonged to my mistress, as everything else in this house.”


“And now it belongs to me. Where is it?” Harry asked again, his patience was obviously wearing thin.


“I do not know. Ask him. That filthy crook steals from my mistress. I see him take things that do not belong to him,” Kreacher said, as he pointed his bent figure.


Harry turned and saw who the house-elf was referring to. Harry ran forward, pulled Mundungus out of his seat by the front of his robes, and pulled out his wand.


“Where is it?’ Harry threatened.


Mundungus looked scared, “Where is what?”


“THE LOCKET YOU STOLE!” Harry yelled, as he grabbed Dung’s robes tighter.


“I-I-I didn’t steal any locket.”


“DON’T LIE!”


“Harry, calm down. Let him go Harry, please. This isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Hermione said, trying to pull Harry from the now very nervous looking Mundungus.


“Fine!” Harry let go of Dung, but did not put his wand away, “So where is it?”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Harry started to grab for him again.


“Harry!” Hermione scolded and then turned to a very startled Mundungus. “Quit playing games with us Dung, or I won’t stand between you and Harry anymore. Where’s the locket, the one that was in the cabinet, in the drawing room?”


“The cabinet in the drawing room? I don’t remember- I mean how would I know what’s in there?” Dung replied.


Hermione put her hands on her hips, “Don’t play stupid with me. We all know you steal every chance you get.”


“Steal? That’s a little harsh. It’s not like the stuff I take- I mean acquire is used.”


“Your right Harry, maybe your way is better,” Hermione stepped aside as she said this.


Harry started to advance forward again.


“No. Wait, wait. Oh that locket. I vaguely remember seeing a locket in a box, but I put it back.”


“Then why isn’t it there any longer,” Harry growled.


“I-I-I don’t know, Mundungus stammered.


“LIAR!” Harry roared, as he grabbed hold of Dung again, “Tell us where the locket is now, or I’ll hex you with so many spells you’ll be in St. Mungo for a month.”


“Okay, okay… I might have… possibly… sold it to an antique dealer in Hogsmeade.”


“You might, or you did?”


“I-I-I did.”


Harry lifted his wand higher in anger. Hermione grabbed his shoulder, “Harry, please.” She then looked at Mundungus, “You said you sold it. Who? Who did you sell it to? We want a name.”


“Her name was Amelia Beckly. S-S-She runs an antique shop out of her home. Please I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”


“No your not. Your just sorry you where caught,” Harry sneered. “Come on let’s go. I’ll deal with you later,” Harry said as he threw Dung back into his seat.


Molly jumped up from the table and stood in front of the kitchen door, “And where exactly are you going?”


“To find the locket, where else?” Harry replied.


“Maybe we should wait until the morning to go to Hogsmeade,” Hermione offered.


“Why?”


“Maybe because it’s after two o’clock in the morning, and I need some rest. So do you.”


“Rest, who can rest at a time like this? We’re closer now than we’ve ever been.”


“Yes, we are, but even if we go tonight we can’t go knocking on people’s doors in the middle of the night. We’ve waited this long. I don’t think a few more hours will make a big difference,” Hermione reassured.


“I couldn’t rest if I wanted to.”


"Please Harry, just a few more hours and all three of us will go to Hogsmeade and get the locket. Might I remind you that we aren’t even sure if it is the one we’re looking for.”


“Fine, I’ll be upstairs, but be ready to go bright and early,” Harry said as he walked around Molly and out of the room.


Molly turned to Hermione and asked, “What is all this ruckus about? And why are you three looking for a locket at this hour of the night? We happened to be in the middle of a meeting, you know.”


“Sorry mum,” Ron muttered.


“We didn’t mean to interrupt. We’ll leave you so you can get back to it. Oh, and sorry about Harry, Dung. He’s been having a rough day,” Hermione pulled Ron out the kitchen door.


“Well that was interesting. I wonder what that was all about,” asked Jones.
“I wish I knew,” Molly said, as she sat back down wondering herself what her son and his friends were getting themselves in to.




***




Harry stormed up the stairs and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He stood in the middle of the floor panting heavily trying to get a hold of himself. It took him several long minutes before he was calm enough to sit down on the edge of his bed. He ran a hand through his hair and thought about the events of the day, wondering if this nightmare would ever end.


So much had happened in the last twenty four hours that he was having trouble processing it all. His aunt and uncle where killed, and his cousin was somewhere in this very house blaming him for their deaths. He had gone to his own parents home and received multiple surprises, as well as passing out in his nursery for some unknown reason. Then he finds out that they may have solved the mystery of the locket, because of Hermione’s quick thinking. Now only to wait, because it was the polite thing to do.


Who cares about being polite, or getting sleep. There where more important things to do. So Hermione and Ron wanted to take a few hours to get some rest. It didn’t mean he had to. He could go without them. Yeah, they’d be upset, but they’ll get over it in time.


Harry jumped off the bed and headed for the door without a second thought. He jerked open the door and almost ran into Ginny.


“Going somewhere?” she asked startled.


“I err… What are you doing here?” He asked, surprised to see her at his door this late at night.


“Ron and Hermione are in my room. I left to give them some privacy. They looked like they could use it.”


“Oh,” Harry said. He normally might have been angry that his two friends where having fun when there was work to do, but for some reason he wasn’t, in fact he was having difficulty remembering where he was going in such a hurry.


“You don’t mind if I keep you company do you?” Ginny hesitated, “But if you where going somewhere…”


“No! No, please stay. Actually I’ve been looking for a moment to talk to you,” Harry opened the door for her to pass.


“Oh? What about?” she said as she walked into the room.


Harry closed the door and turned to her. He hesitated not sure how to continue so he decided to get it over with, “Ginny I… I’m really sorry if I’ve hurt you. That’s not what I wanted. I just… I didn’t want you to be hurt. That’s why I pushed you away in the first place. I thought you understood this, but I guess not. I’m sorry.”


If Ginny seemed startled by his outburst, she didn’t show it, “No, I understood. I just didn’t like it and for a while I even doubted that you even liked me.”


Harry felt like he had been slapped in the face. He took a few steps toward her, “Ginny, how could you say that. You know I care for you.”


This must have touched a nerve, because she immediately became angry and raised her voice slightly, “Do I? Harry, you just walked away. Just like that. No explanations. Not even a goodbye. I won’t pretend that I don’t know your reasons. I do. I just don’t agree with you. If you want to be with me, then be with me. I don’t care about the repercussions.”


“But I do! I care! How am I suppose to do what needs to be done if I have to worry about your safety.”


“I can take care of myself!” she cried angrily.


“I know that, but why risk it?”


“WHY? I’LL TELL YOU WHY HARRY POTTER, BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”


The room was silent and Harry and Ginny both stood still in shock of what she had said. Her words lingering in the air between them.


“Ginny I…” Harry started.


Ginny sighed, “No, don’t say anything. I mean what I said Harry. I do love you. I think I’ve always been in love with you. I knew the moment I saw you and I don’t care about what might or might not happen. All I care about is you and me. Are you going to allow Voldemort to tell you how to live your life? Are you going to allow him to come between what I hope is something that makes you happy? Harry, I don’t care if you love me or not. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I need to know if there is a chance that we might be together. Because if there isn’t I need to know so I can move on. So… is there?”


“Ginny I…”


Ginny crossed her arms. “Yes or no Harry, that’s all I need,” she said quietly.
Harry stood there looking at her at a loss for what to say. He knew in his heart how he felt about her. He had known it all along, but his feelings weren’t the issue. He also knew that this was a turning point. That if he turned her away again, he may lose any chance he would ever have of being with her. He couldn’t allow that, no matter what he kept telling himself. He had lost so much already, too much.


Harry moved forward until he was standing within inches of Ginny, “Yes, there is. I do want to be with you, more than anything. I was happier than I have been when we were together.”


Tears started to fall down Ginny’s cheeks.


Harry immediately grew concerned, “What did I say? Did I say something to upset you?”


“No, silly. These are tears of happiness. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’ve waited so…”


Without thinking Harry bridged the small gap between him and Ginny. He pulled her into his arms, lifted her chin, and looked into her large brown eyes.


“Ginny, I love you,” he then leaned down and kissed her passionately on the lips.


Ginny kissed him back furiously, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, but all too soon Harry pulled away. He led her to the bed, sat her down beside him, and gently pulled back stray a hair from her tear streaked face.


“I want to be with you, more than anything. Do not ever doubt that, no matter what happens. Please believe me Ginny.”


“I do.”


“Good. That’s something then. Look, I know you think you can handle whatever might happen because of us being together.”


“I…”


Harry gently placed a finger over her lips, “No, let me finish,” he whispered. “I know you can handle it… but… but I can’t. Do you have any idea what would happen if I lost you.”


“No.”


“Me either, and quite frankly I never want to find out. That is why I broke up with you. I know it sounds selfish…”


“It’s not. You’ve lost so much. You deserve to be happy, Harry. I’m just glad I could bring you some of that happiness.”


Harry leaned forward and touched his head with hers, “Me too.”


“So where does that leave us?” Ginny whispered.


Harry sighed, as he threaded his fingers through hers, “How about we leave that for tomorrow, let’s just enjoy tonight.”


“And how do you propose we do this?” Ginny giggled and playfully nipped him on the ear.


Harry flopped down on the bed and pulled her beside him. He wrapped an arm around her, “Well, I haven’t talked to you in nearly a month. How have you been?”


The rest of the night quickly passed by, as the two talked. Several hours later, both became too tired to even talk. So they just held each other enjoying being together, if only for a little while. Drifting off to sleep, Harry thought that if coming to Grimmuald Place allowed him a few moments like this with Ginny, then maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

The search for the locket had begun the night before, after Hermione’s surprising discovery at Godric’s Hollow. They didn’t waste any time, in getting to Grimmauld Place, to see if Hermione’s theory was correct. Upon arriving at the house, Hermione had made a beeline for the drawing room. Slightly confused, Harry and Ron had followed after.


She had gone to the desk in the room and fumbled around searching for something. After a few moments, she made a triumphant sound and pulled a key from one of the desk drawers. Hermione then headed for the cabinet, that they had helped Mrs. Weasley clean a few summers before. She unlocked the cabinet, and started to go thru it’s contents. After a few minutes, she became agitated, “I don’t understand. It has to be here. It just has to.”


A goblet fell out of the cabinet with a loud clang and rolled around on the floor. Harry stopped on it with his foot, “Ahh… Hermione, what exactly are you looking for.”


“The locket,” she said irritably.


Harry and Ron exchanged glances. They were starting to get concerned about her.


“You’re not making any sense. Will you please tell us what’s going on?” Ron asked, hoping she would enlighten him to what was so important.


Hermione took a deep breath and stopped rummaging through the cabinet. She turned around and faced them, “The locket that we saw here, when we where cleaning it out. I can’t be sure, but…”


Harry finally caught on to where she was going. A look of disbelief and excitement showed on his face, “Of course! The locket… you think it’s the same?”


“Yes.”


Ron’s look of confusion became more pronounced, “Will somebody please tell me what’s going on!”


Harry rushed forward to help Hermione resume her search, while he answered Ron, “Hermione thinks the locket we’re looking for, is the same locket we saw when cleaning out the cabinet. It was in a black box wasn’t it?”


“Yes, Regulus must have hidden it here in an effort to hide it from Voldemort. What better way to hide something than in plain sight?” she said excitedly.


“It makes sense now,” Harry said, as he tried shifting through the mess in the cabinet. He soon got tired of this, and started to throw things out unceremoniously onto the drawing room floor. Soon all the contents of the cabinet was scattered across the room, but there was no sign of a black box or a locket. “It has to be here. I don’t understand. Where could it be?” Harry said in frustration.


“I don’t know… wait! Kreacher! I bet you Kreacher has it! He always stealing things from the house in order to save them,” Hermione said as she rolled her eyes.


Harry immediately turned around and headed for the kitchen without saying a word. A determined set was in his jaw. But a search of the house-elf’s nest had not yielded the locket, or a confrontation with the elf. But Kreacher had been helpful in fingering Mundungus as the real thief. Dung had been reluctant to cooperate at first, but Harry’s threatening manner quickly turned him around. Dung’s confession had led the three of them to believe the locket was in Hogsmeade. He had finally confessed to selling it to an Amelia Beckly, who owned an antique shop there.


Harry had wanted to charge to Beckly’s house right then to find the locket. But Hermione had convinced him it would be better to wait until morning, since it was already quite late. Harry didn’t like it, but he reluctantly agreed. They were eager to continue the search for the locket. So, after a short rest and some food, they had set out to town early the next morning, though the trip to Hogsmeade was a quiet one.


Ron had caught Harry and Ginny sleeping in Harry’s bed that very morning. Ron had gone off the deep end when he saw the two of them. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms the night before, after spending most of the night catching up for lost time. Nothing had happened. They tried to explain this to Ron, but he wasn’t listening. Ginny then reminded Ron of where he had spent the night. This shut him up, in fact he hadn’t said a word to anyone since then. He merely grunted when anyone asked him a question and snubbed Harry all together. Hermione had gotten fed up with Ron’s attitude and ignored Ron all the way into town.


Once in town, they weren’t sure exactly where the house was located. Since neither of them had recalled seeing the shop on one of their visits, Hermione decided to stop and get directions at a local shop to save time in their search. Harry and Ron had elected to wait outside. Both of them quietly watched people pass by on the street. Tension between the two men was almost unbearable. Ron soon could no longer keep silent and whirled to face Harry. Harry knew this was coming and braced himself.


Ron’s face was getting red with anger, and his fists clenched tightly by his side, “I told you to talk with my sister, not sleep with her.”


Harry blushed, “I didn’t sleep with her… well I did, but it wasn’t like that at all. We just talked.”
“Yeah, right,” Ron scoffed.


“Just because you and Hermione are getting physical doesn’t mean everyone else is.”


This time it was Ron’s turn to blush in embarrassment, “You’re changing the subject. I was talking about you and my sister.”


Harry had had enough of Ron’s attitude, “Tell me why anything I do with Ginny is any of your business.”


“BECAUSE SHE’S MY SISTER!” yelled Ron loudly, making the people nearby stop and stare.


“Hey you two, I can’t leave you here for five minutes and you’re screaming at each other,” Hermione said as she exited the nearby store.


“HARRY’S BEEN MESSING AROUND WITH MY SISTER!” Ron yelled.


“I HAVE NOT, AND EVEN IF I DID. WHO ARE YOU TO SAY I CAN’T?” Harry yelled back.
Ron looked like he was going to punch Harry. Hermione stepped in between them, and gently laid her hand on Ron’s arm.


“Ron, let’s not do this here. You’re drawing too much attention to yourself. Look at the bright side, at least they’re talking,” she grinned.


“Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Ron said through clenched teeth.


“Let’s go you two. I found the place we’re looking for. It’s only a couple of blocks from here.”


Ron still stood glaring at Harry. Hermione pulled Ron after her, as she started walking down the street. Ron grudgingly followed.


Several blocks later Ron had cooled down somewhat and they were standing outside a large three-story house. It was the largest home they had ever remembered seeing in Hogsmeade. Outside the old house was a small sign that read Amelia’s Antiquities. Underneath that it read open for all, at any time, for any occasion.


“Let’s just hope the locket’s still here,” Harry mumbled under his breath, as he walked up the front sidewalk and knocked on the door.


Moments later, a small elderly woman with pure white hair and a somewhat bent frame answered the door.


“And who do we have here? Have you young folks come to buy my new stock?”


“Err…” Harry began. He was momentarily shocked at the ancient look of the woman. She looked to be about twice the age of Dumbledore.


“Yes, of course we have,” Hermione replied loudly, as she stepped in front of Harry.


Harry whispered, “What are you doing?”


Hermione whispered back, “Just follow my lead.”


“Well come in. Come in. I don’t have all day. Well I do, but that beside the point,” the elderly woman commented, as she opened the door wide for the trio to enter.


Harry stepped into the house and was amazed by all the stuff that was crammed into the hallway. He almost bumped into a stack of leaning chairs that reached to the ceiling. He carefully sidestepped the precarious stack, so not to send it crashing to the floor. There was so much stuff in the house, that small pathways where carved around, allowing for passage. He walked around a large stack of books and glanced into a side room. That room too was filled floor to ceiling with stuff. Everything looked to be as old as the woman and had a thick layer of dust covering every surface.


Harry could hear the old woman’s voice, as he attempted to pick his way to a large staircase. The woman was already halfway up the stairs talking excitedly, “I see you’ve answered the ad I placed in the Daily Prophet. I normally would never do such a thing. I rely heavily on referrals and such, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Business has been a little slow these days with the war and all.”


“Anyways, in case you didn’t know, my name is Amelia Beckly and I am the owner of this fine establishment. My dearly departed husband and I started this here enterprise nearly sixty years ago. Over the years we have collect some of the rarest pieces from the wizarding and muggle worlds. My dear Ronald was such a kindly man. He always allowed things to sell way under its marketable value. That’s where I came in. You could say I was the brains behind the heart. Where did I put that item? Oh yes, here it is.”


She had entered a room right off the stairs and had gone to a large box set on a massive wood table. She picked a lamp off the box and dusted off the lid.


“Well, go ahead open it up. Everything is in order.”


“But we…” Harry felt a sharp jab in his side.


Hermione was giving him an evil look. She then went to the box and opened it. She let out a gasp.


“What?” Harry asked.


Hermione didn’t answer. She just stood there mesmerized by the contents of the box. Harry moved forward to see what had captured her attention. Inside the box was an old book, a very old book from the looks of it. The binding on the side was cracked most of the way down. The cover was so worn you could barley make out the title.


“It’s just an old book,” Ron said from beside Harry.


Hermione sighed, “Don’t you get it? It’s not just any old book. It’s the original edition of Hogwarts, A History. I was under the impression it had been destroyed years ago in a fire? Where did you get this?”


The old woman chuckled, “A man sold it to me a few weeks ago. He was quite mysterious. He wouldn’t even tell me his name.”


“But I thought you only dealt with reputable people?” Hermione asked.
“Desperate times, my dear,” the old woman answered.


“Hermione, do I have to remind you why we are here?” Harry asked impatiently.


Hermione pulled her gaze away from the book and looked at Harry, “Yes of course. Ah, Mrs. Beckly?”


“Call me Amelia, dear,” the old woman said sweetly.


“Amelia, this is fascinating and all. I mean the founding fathers themselves had written the original edition… Ouch!”


This time it was Harry’s turn to elbow Hermione in the side. Hermione gave Harry another dirty look.


“But we really didn’t come here for the book. We actually came here for an object Mundungus Fletcher sold you.”


A scowl immediately came to the old woman’s face, “Do not speak that name to me! He is a thieving heartless soul. That man stole a priceless heirloom the last time he was here.”


“I’m sorry, but…”


“On second thought you three aren’t who I thought you were. I’m sorry for the confusion. My eye- sight isn’t what it used to be. You all can leave right now. I’m afraid the shop is closing,” Amelia said with a haughty attitude.


“But the sign outside says open for all, at any time, and for any occasion,” Hermione said.


“Well, it must have been a misprint. I’ll have to get that changed,” she slammed the box with the book in it and immediately tried to push them out of the room.


“NO, WAIT!” Harry yelled. “We didn’t come all this way just to be stone walled by you or anyone else. We came here for the locket and I’m not leaving until I get it,” Harry crossed his arms.


The old woman was startled by Harry’s behavior, but she quickly regained her composure, “How dare you speak to me in such a tone young man! I have every right to decide who I will and won’t do business with, and I absolutely refuse to do business with any friends of that horrible man Mundungus.”


“Is that what you think? That we are friends of Dung? Well, I can tell you, I might know him as an acquaintance, and that is enough for me not to want to be friends with him now or ever,” Harry replied angrily.


“But I thought…”


“You thought wrong. We just want to know if he sold you a locket?”


“And why would you want to know that?”


“Because we want to buy it,” Hermione said before Harry could say anything else.


The woman perked up at this, “Really? Well, in that case I suppose you can stay, but I warn you if you so much as think of stealing from me…”


“You don’t have to worry about that. Anything we take from here, we’ll buy,” Harry said.


“We will? Isn’t everything in here kind of pricey?” Ron asked quietly.


“If it means finding the locket, I’ll pay anything,” Harry whispered back.


“Oh, right.”


“Come this way,” the woman said as she hobbled from the room and down the stairs. Once at the foot of the stairs, she pulled a key from her pocket in her moth eaten robes and unlocked the door. She opened the door, walked around a large stack of tables, and then to a long counter at the back of the cluttered room.


“Ahhh, here we go,” she pulled a small black box from under the counter, “I believe this is what you’re looking for.”


Harry stepped forward and gingerly lifted the lid of the box. A flash of gold was the first thing he saw. A closer look revealed a large gold locket nestled inside the box. Harry held his breath as he picked up the necklace and turned it over. There, plain as day a large “S” was etched into the surface.


“Harry, we found it,” Hermione squealed from his side.


A torrent of emotions hit him all at one, but the one emotion that stood out among the others was relief. He had finally found it. After nearly a month after Dumbledore’s death, he had found what the two of them had set out to find that fateful night. Harry closed his hand tightly around the locket. He wasn’t letting it out of his sight.


“How much?” he asked the old woman.


“Well, it won’t go cheap. I can tell you that. If you don’t already know, which I think you do, that locket is priceless. That locket belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. It was thought to have been lost several decades ago.”


“Price doesn’t matter, how much?” Harry said firmly.


She pulled a piece of parchment from a drawer and wrote a figure on it, then handed it to Harry.
Ron gasped behind him, “That’s a lot of money, Harry.”


“And we’ll pay it, but I don’t have that much with me. Will you take a bank draft?”


“From a stranger? I think not,” the woman said haughtily.


Hermione quickly spoke up, “But he’s not. He’s Harry Potter.”


The old woman scoffed, “Harry Potter, why would Harry Potter buy the locket of Slytherin. I heard he’s a Gryffindor.”


“It doesn’t matter. I still want to buy it. My money is good, I promise.”


“Promises don’t do me a lot of good, young man. How do I know you are who you say you are? How do I know you’re not trying to swindle me like that no good Mundungus?”


“Because he has the scar to prove it. Show her, Harry,” Hermione nudged him.


Normally Harry would bulk in this kind of situation, but if his fame could do something good, now was the time to use it. He pulled his bangs from his forehead and showed the white scar that was there. Amelia put on her glasses and leaned forward to get a better look.


Her disbelief quickly turned to excitement, “Oh my! You’re Harry Potter! Harry Potter is in my store. Can you believe that? Wait until I tell all my friends.”


“Actually, we were hoping you could keep my being here a secret.”


In her excitement, the elderly woman started walking around wiping off the thick dust covering some of the merchandise, “Why on earth would I want to do that? Can you imagine the publicity my tiny little shop would get once word got out that the great Harry Potter is a regular customer? My oh my, think of all the sales I’ll make. Business has been slow as of late. Not many people want to buy antiques with a war on, you know.”


Harry was starting to get angry. Hermione jumped in before he could say anything, “What if we bought something else of high dollar? Then would you consider keeping this a secret?”


The woman stopped what she was doing, “Well I suppose that depends on how much you’re willing to spend?”


“What about that original copy of Hogwarts, A History? Would that be high dollar enough?” Hermione asked.


“Hermione, what are you doing?” Ron asked in disbelief.


“Leave her alone, Ron. She knows what she’s doing,” Harry said sternly.


“But she’s spending your money.”


“Shhh…”


The woman was currently tapping her chin with a bone finger, “Hummm… I suppose that might do it. Mind you it’s very pricey. It may be one of the most valuable items I have in stock.”


“I’m sure it is,” Hermione said sarcastically, “But is it enough to keep you silence?”


“Well… I suppose if you’re willing to part with that much money, who am I to argue,” Amelia said in an overly sweet tone, as she walked back behind the counter.


“Fine, how much?” Harry asked.


The woman took another piece of parchment out of a drawer and wrote a figure. She handed it to Harry.


Ron became as white as a sheet as he saw the figure, “Ah Harry, are you sure you want to do this,” he squeaked.


“Yes. I’ll have to give you a bank draft for this as well.”


“No problem, Mr. Potter, anything for our young hero.”


Half an hour later, the three exited the house with the locket, a very old edition of Hogwarts, A History, and Harry’s bank account somewhat less full.


“I don’t know about you two, but I think this calls for a celebration,” Ron grinned.


“Our mission is far from over, Ron,” Harry replied, but he too couldn’t help but smile. He fumbled the locket he had put around his neck for safety.


“I know, but this is a major step in the right direction. If we can’t celebrate that, then what’s the point?”


“I guess it won’t hurt to stop by the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeers,” Hermione said.


They walked down the street for a few minutes each engulfed in their own thoughts.

“So, what now?” Ron asked.


“What do you mean?” Harry asked.


“Now that we found the locket, how do we destroy it?”


“I don’t know,” Harry replied quietly.


“Didn’t Dumbledore tell you?”


“No. I wish he did. I don’t even know where to begin.”


“Actually, we do know where to begin,” Hermione replied.


“And where might that be exactly?” Ron asked, as he rolled his eyes.


“Well we know for a fact that two Horcruxes were destroyed. We start with that.”


“Okay, that might work for the diary, but we don’t know how the ring was destroyed. Dumbledore never got a chance to tell me,” Harry said.


“True, but we do know that when Dumbledore destroyed the ring it cracked the gem inside it.”


“So?” Ron shrugged.


“So, that might be a clue as to how it was done.”


“Then how was it done?” Ron asked.


I don’t know silly. At least not now, but with some research I might be able to find out.”


Ron rolled his eyes again, “Oh boy, here we go. Everyone move aside. Hermione’s going to invade the library again,” he laughed.


Hermione turned up her nose and picked up her pace, “If you’re going to be like that, I’ll just see you at the shop.”


The smile from Ron’s face quickly faded, “Hermione, I was just joking. Wait up!” he yelled as he ran after her.


Harry laughed at his friends, as he watched them turn the corner. He slowed his pace and decided to do some sightseeing to give his two friends a little privacy. He turned the corner, and started walking in the opposite direction they had gone, not really paying attention to where he was going. Soon, he found himself down a corner street of Hogsmeade. Up ahead was the Hog’s Head. Harry saw the bar sign and something clicked. A mystery he had forgotten among the chaos of the last day had been solved.


Meet me where it all began.


The prophecy, Snape must have meant the prophecy. This was where the prophecy had been made all those years ago. Technically his involvement had begun the night the prophecy had been made.


Harry started to turn around to get Ron and Hermione and immediately stopped. The note did say to come alone. He didn’t trust Snape, but he didn’t want to scare him off either. Harry wanted Snape to pay for what he did, and he didn’t want to ruin this chance for that to happen. Harry just hoped it still wasn’t too late and that Snape was still there. He took a deep breath and headed for the Hog’s Head, ready for anything.

Harry Potter: A Hero Missing?


It has been rumored that Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived and recently dubbed The Chosen One, has disappeared without a trace.


“We don’t know anything about Mr. Potter’s alleged disappearance,” says one harried Ministry official, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry yesterday afternoon. Attempts to interview other Ministry employees about Potter’s disappearance had the same results.


Nevertheless, many sources have come forward and confirmed that Mr. Potter is indeed missing, and has been for nearly a month now. Sources also state that every action has been taken to find Mr. Potter, but the search has so far yielded more questions than answers. Such as, What Harry Potter was doing in the Hog’s Head the day he vanished?


“I saw him come in, but never leave,” says a patron of the Hogsmeade bar. Other witnesses also reported that a fight had taken place in an upper room, shortly after Potter was seen entering the establishment. What took place in that room, or whether Potter was involved is unclear. We do know however, that he has not been seen or heard from since.



The paper slipped out of the girl’s hands and fluttered to the floor. Tears soaked her cheeks and hair, as she rested her head against the hard glass window of the moving train. The coldness of the glass seeped into her pale cheek and traveled its way through her body. She shivered slightly, not from the cold but from the turmoil in her heart. The pain was almost more than she could handle. How could this happen? She had finally gotten him to admit his feelings for her, only to lose him again. It wasn’t fair.


Ginny numbly gazed out the window and watched the train speed forward through a forest of trees. The dense forest soon gave way to a majestic view over a valley. In the distant horizon, the sun was fading fast as it washed the dimming landscape with a colorful glow. If it had been any other time, she would have marveled at the sight. Instead she watched the light dance in the sky without much thought.


Ginny could hear excited voices and movement coming from outside her compartment. She guessed that the students were donning their school robes in anticipation of the train’s arrival. She knew the train would reach its destination within the hour, but Hogwarts was the last place she wanted to be.


Harry was out there somewhere. Somewhere she wasn’t. Somewhere that was unknown to her and to everyone else who cared about him. Even though they had searched relentlessly for Harry, a month is a long time to be missing. Most people had already given up hope of even finding him alive.


Ginny shut these thoughts out of her mind. She didn’t want to hear, or think it. All she wanted was have Harry found and for him to be all right. She wanted things to go back to the way it was before he disappeared. But deep in her heart she knew that this might never come true. As every minute slipped by it was less possible that she would ever see him again. She cringed inwardly at this thought.


Ginny’s head began to ache and she slowly lifted it from the window. She looked around the empty compartment not really seeing it, until she caught a glimpse of a familiar face smiling up at her. The newspaper she had dropped earlier lay at her feet. Harry waved at her from the front page making her flinch. They had used an old photo of Harry. It was of him winning the first task at the Triwiard Tournament. Harry wouldn’t like the fact that they had used that picture. He didn’t like being reminded of the Tournament. It held too many painful memories for him. Ginny kicked at the paper, but missed. She laid her head back on the seat in frustration and let out a long drawn out sigh.


It was out. People finally knew the truth. There was no point in hiding it any longer. The whole world now knew Harry Potter was missing. The Order had tried to keep it a secret, but somehow the news of Harry’s disappearance had made the morning news. Mad-Eye wouldn’t be happy.


Ginny let her mind wander back to the last time she had seen Harry. She remembered that day so well. She remembered waking up in his arms. Harry was not yet awake. So she just laid beside him and watched his sleeping form. The look of heavy burdens and duty he normally wore on his face was gone. A quiet peacefulness was all that was left. She remembered pulling a piece of hair that from his forehead and lightly tracing the wicked looking scar that rested there. She was so happy and content in that moment. She wished it could have lasted forever, but she knew it wouldn’t. Little did she know that her happiness would be dashed sooner than even she expected.


After waking up together that morning, Harry had quickly downed some breakfast and left with Ron and Hermione to Hogsmeade. He told her that it was important that he go, but he didn’t say why. He also said that they would talk more about things when he got back. Only he never did come back.


Once Harry, Ron and Hermione left, Ginny spent most of the day helping her mum set up Grimmuald Place as their new home. After the attack at the Burrow and on the Dursley’s, the Order thought it best that the Weasley family should stay on at Grimmuald Place for a while. Her mum had also insisted that Harry’s cousin Dudley stay as well, since he didn’t have much of a home to go back to.


After spending most of the day airing out all the bedrooms and finding a place to put all her stuff, she joined the rest of the family, Dudley, and a few Order members for dinner in the kitchen. It was half way through dinner when they got the bad news from Ron.


He came bursting into the kitchen slightly out of breath and a panicked look on his face. Ron’s sudden entrance caught the attention of everyone in the room, “Harry he’s…”


“Well it’s about time you showed up! You almost missed dinner! Where have you been all day? Where is Harry and Hermione?” Mrs. Weasley shouted out before he could finish.


Without missing a beat Ron shouted back, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! He never showed up! Harry is gone! He’s missing! We… we don’t know where he is!”


“What do you mean Harry’s gone? Where is he?” his mum asked with a slightly confused and very concerned look on her face.


“I JUST TOLD YOU! I DON’T KNOW!” Ron yelled, now shaking visibly with emotion.


His father walked up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Calm down, son. Where did you last see him?”


It took a minute, but Ron was finally able to calm down enough to speak, “We left Harry while we were walking to the Three Broomsticks. We didn’t think about it. Hermione and I were having a disagreement and we…we left him.” Ron’s voice caught and he cleared his throat before continuing, “I don’t understand how could this happen? He was right behind us. We shouldn’t have left him.”


“How long has he been missing?” Mad-Eye asked abruptly, as he limped to Ron’s side.
Ron shrugged, “I don’t know, a couple of hours.”


“Wait, are you sure he’s missing? Maybe he went off by himself?” Charlie offered, as he too got up from the table.


“Or maybe he just ditched you,” Dudley said around a mouthful of rice pudding.


Ron shook his head, “No, you don’t understand. He would have told us if he was going anywhere. We had plans.”


“Plans?” Mad-Eye asked, his magical eye focusing intently on Ron.


Ron sighed, “Yes, look can we please discuss this later. Right now we have to get back to Hogsmeade and help Hermione search for Harry. I told her I’d be right back with help.”


Charlie looked at his father with a questioning glance, “Wouldn’t we know if something was wrong? I thought…”


He was cut off abruptly by Mr. Weasley, “Ron’s right. We don’t have time for this. If Harry is in trouble…”


Mr. Weasley exchanged a glance with Mad-Eye. Mad-Eye grunted and started for the door with a rather fast limp, “Let’s go.”


Mr. Weasley, Charlie, Tonks and Ron followed Mad-Eye out the door. This left Mrs. Weasley, Dudley, and Ginny the only ones remaining at the table. The rest of the meal was very quiet. Ginny and her mum didn’t really eat much, but the disappearance of his cousin didn’t daunt Dudley’s appetite at all. He ate three more helpings before declaring himself full and then heading up to his room.


Ginny and her mother waited anxiously for some news about Harry. Several times she became too uptight to wait and wanted to head to Hogsmeade to join in the search, but her mother begged her to stay with her. Ginny did, but she wasn’t happy about it.


Hours later and late into the night the search party finally returned, but without Harry and no closer to knowing where he was. The only clue to his whereabouts was an old barman, who claimed to have seen him in the Hog's Head. A closer search revealed evidence of a struggle in one of the rooms upstairs from the bar. The room was disheveled and large black scorches marked the walls. The obvious signs of a fight left everyone with a bad feeling, but no one more so than Ginny. It was at this point when it finally started to sink in that Harry was really gone, and that something was very wrong.


The search for Harry did not stop there. They all continued the search in earnest, but without much to go and no new leads, hopes of finding Harry began to waver. Hours turned into days, days into weeks, and weeks into a month. Still there was no sign of Harry. Some people where starting to fear the worse, but Ginny dared not think it. She couldn’t. Harry was still alive out there somewhere, she knew. She didn’t know how, but he was. He had to, at least that is what she kept trying to convince herself to think.


“Ginny, are you coming or what?”


Ginny was jolted out of her thoughts and looked to see where the voice had come from. Hermione was by Ginny’s compartment door dressed in her school robes. Ron was standing behind her in the hallway.


“Oh, yeah. I’m coming,” she said absentmindedly, as she slid off the warm seat and reached for her trunk in the overhead compartment.


She fumbled with the lid trying to get it open, but it wouldn’t cooperate. She heard muffled voices and a door closed. Then someone came up behind her and lifted the heavy lid for her.


“Thanks,” she muttered as she pulled her robes from off the top of her other belongs.


“It’s okay, Ginny. He’ll be all right. You know him. He can take care of himself,” Hermione said quietly.


Ginny turned around and looked at the brown haired girl, “Tell me the truth, Hermione. If Harry was all right, don’t you think he would have gotten word to us by now?”


Hermione bowed her head, “Ginny, you can’t think that way…”


“But you are, aren’t you?”


“No,” she whispered.


“Then why won’t you look me in the eyes when you say that?”


Hermione stood not saying a word.


Ginny was starting to feel hot anger build up inside her, “And another thing. If you really thought Harry was coming back, then why are you and Ron on this train? I thought you were suppose to go off on some sort of mission, or something?”


Hermione sighed, “Nothing is what it seems Ginny.”


“And what is that suppose to mean? Do you know something I don’t?”


“No more than you.”


“I don’t believe that!” Ginny shouted, losing her patience all together. “If you know something…”
“Ginny, if I knew something, I would tell you,” Hermione said, looking pleadingly at her.


Ginny sighed and sat down. Her anger slowly ebbed away. She knew getting mad wouldn’t help anything. Hermione understood how much she cared for Harry. It would be crazy to think that Hermione would purposely keep something like that from her, “I just miss him.”


“We all do,” Hermione consoled, as she too sat down.


Ginny rested her head on the other girl’s shoulder, “Do you really think he’s okay?”


“Honestly, I don’t know, but I would like to think so.”


“But what if he’s…”


Hermione stiffened, “No, don’t even think like that.”


Ginny lifted her head, “And why not?”


“Because… Hermione sighed. “I haven’t given up hope and neither should you. He’s still out there and you think the same thing.”


“What makes you say that?”


“Because you love him. Isn’t that enough to believe?” without another word Hermione got up and left Ginny alone in the compartment.


A tear fell down the girl’s cheek as she watched her friend leave, “Yes. Yes it is,” Ginny said
quietly.

The whimpering of a small child floated through the room, while a scared mother tried to comfort him with little success. The source of the terror moved closer to the crying child and his mother. The tall dark figure was a terrible sight to behold, as he pointed his long black wand at the two, “Move aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…”


The woman ignored his demand as she shielded her son with her body and sat him in his bed. She then stood firmly in front of the crib. Her only thought was for the safety of her child, “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-“


The man’s only response was a wicked sneer. He then moved even further into the room blocking the only exit.


“Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…” The mother’s pleas were becoming desperate now, but she stood her ground.


The man simply laughed at the woman’s pathetic attempt to save her son and shouted a spell. Green light came out of the tip of his wand and hit the woman square in the chest. She let out a terrifying scream before hitting the wood floor. Her lifeless eyes stared up at her only son, as he reached through the crib grabbing for his mother.


The dark man stepped closer to the crib. He turned his wand on to the small emerald eyes staring up at him. Green light washed through the room once more, but this time a white light mixed with it and overpowered the green. A deathly scream pierced the night air drowning out the crying of the small child.



Harry woke up in a cold sweat. He was shaking from head to toe as he rolled on to his side and tried to forget the nightmare he had just had. He was having it again. The same dream he had been having since visiting Godric’s Hollow. Only Harry knew it wasn’t a dream. It had really happened. His mother had died right in front of him trying to protect him, and for some reason he was forced to relive that moment every time he closed his eyes. That was one of many reasons why he hadn’t been sleeping these days.


Harry remembered the last time he had been able to get any real sleep. It had been the night he had visited Godric’s Hollow. The night he had spent with Ginny. A pang tore through his heart as he thought of her. He could only imagine the pain she was going through now. She probably thought he was dead. It had been over a month since his disappearance. He had wanted to tell her what had happened, but he knew he couldn’t. It was better this way, at least for now.


Harry sat up in bed and turned on the light. He knew that going back to sleep was pointless, so he decided to get an early start on his studies. He pulled on a t-shirt and headed for the only other piece of furniture in the small room. He sat down at the desk and opened a book he was using as his new journal, since his other one was back at Grimmauld Place and he couldn’t go back there to get it.


Harry caught a glimpse of himself smiling back at him from the desk. He cringed inwardly. It was an old photo of him at the Triwizard Tournament. Why did they have to use that picture? He glanced at the title of the newspaper Harry Potter: A Hero Missing?


Harry scoffed, “If they only knew…”


He pushed the newspaper from a week ago aside and began writing in his journal without another thought of it. Several hours and four pages worth of notes later, he put down his quill and stretched his sore muscles. He glanced at the clock. It read 4:58 A.M. He’d better hurry or he’d be late. Harry slammed his book shut and quickly slipped on his trainers near the bed. Halfway out the door, Harry remembered something and went back into the room.


“I can’t forget that,” he said as he grabbed his wand off the desk and headed out the door closing it behind him.




***




“No. No. No. Do it again! You have to get this right, Potter! How many times have I told you…”


“I know what you said, and I’m trying,” Harry yelled, as he pulled himself up from the dirty floor.


Snape crossed his arms and sneered down at the youth, “No, you’re not. If you were trying, you would have succeeded already.”


Harry gritted his teeth and hissed, “Fine, let’s do it again.”


Snape uncrossed his arms and stepped into his previous position, “Good. Let’s start from the beginning.”


Snape stood in front of Harry, and without saying a word, flicked his wand with a slight twist of his wrist. A red light erupted from the tip and came rushing at Harry. Harry stood his ground as the light came toward him. He gripped his wand tightly and braced himself. He was determined to get it right this time. “Protego,” he thought.


At first Harry didn’t think the spell had worked, but just as the red light was about to hit. The light bounced off the shield and hit a nearby wall.


“It’s about time,” Snape sneered, as he lowered his wand.


The grin on Harry’s face dimmed somewhat. He really hoped he didn’t have to put up with Snape much longer. The training was taking longer than expected. Harry knew he would do better if he didn’t have to put up with Snape’s snide remarks everyday, but he was here for a reason. It was the reason that kept him from walking out.


Harry remembered back to the day everything changed. When his whole world had been turned upside down within a matter of a few short hours. It had all started with his visit to the Hog’s Head over a month ago. Harry remembered what had happened there as if it was yesterday.


He remembered entering into the dark bar and looking around for any signs of a trap or his old professor. A careful look revealed only three people in the room, which included the bartender and two patrons. There was no sign of Snape.


The two patrons were occupying different tables. One was an old woman who was singing softly to herself, as she took a shot of fire whiskey. The other was leaning forward on the table in front of him snoring loudly. His face concealed by an arm. If it was a trap, reinforcements must be lurking somewhere else. Harry went to the bar and took a seat on a stool there. He could see the two patron’s reflections in a mirror behind the counter.


“What will it be, lad?” the bartender asked, coming up to Harry.


“Butterbeer please,” he said still eying the other two occupants carefully.


The bartender grabbed a container from under the counter and filled it to the brim. He then slid Harry the tall mug overflowing with gold liquid. Harry picked up the mug and took a long sip from it. He sighed contently as the warm liquid went down his throat. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation.


Harry felt something push past him. He looked up quickly to see who it was, but no one was there. Harry turned back to his drink and saw a piece of folded paper sitting near his mug. He again looked up scanning the room, but only saw the two people from before. The old woman was still singing to herself and the man was sprawled out on the table. Harry glanced up to ask the bartender where the note had come from, but he had disappeared into a back room. Who could have dropped off the letter? Harry shrugged and opened it.



Meet me upstairs.


He turned the parchment, over hoping there was more, but there wasn’t. He took another sip from his mug and slipped off the barstool. Harry took another quick look around the room. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he headed for a set of stairs near the back wall.


Once he was half way up the stairs, Harry stopped and pulled out his wand. He slowly crept the rest of the way up and stood outside a door that was slightly cracked open. He paused and took a deep breath. He then pushed the door the rest of the way open, and peered into the dark room. A figure was standing near the fireplace.


“It’s about time you showed. I was beginning to think you’d never figure out what my message meant. Are you going to come in, or just stand there all day?” the figure sneered.


Harry immediately recognized the voice as Snape’s. Hot anger boiled up inside at the sight of his old professor. The memory of the last time he had seen Snape was still fresh in his mind. Harry lifted his wand higher and pointed it at the other man, “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”


“You couldn’t kill me if you wanted. You lack the proper skills and discipline,” Snape admonished.


“We’ll see about that,” Harry growled.


“As much as I’d like to see you fail miserably at attempting to kill me, that’s not why I asked you to come here.”


“I don’t care why you’re here. I came here for one reason and one reason only.”


“You should stop before you embarrass yourself, Potter,” Snape smirked, as he turned to face Harry.


“And I think you’re scared. Why else would you keep stalling?”


“I’m trying to get through your thick imbecile skull that I’m not here to fight you. If I did, you’d already be dead.”


“You wish,” Harry snorted.


“I knew this was a waste of time. What Dumbledore saw in you is beyond me.”


“Don’t speak that name to me!” Harry yelled angrily.


“Whether you believe it or not Potter, I’m just as upset about the Headmaster’s death as you. He was one of the few decent men I’ve known,” Snape replied softly.


“LIAR!” Harry was now trembling with rage.


“Believe what you will. I invited you here to give you some information, not reminisce about things that can’t be changed,” Snape said coolly.


“And what could you possibly say that I would want to hear?”


“A lot. Dumbledore was a very wise man. He knew that if I killed him, the Dark Lord would start to trust me again, well as much as a man like him can trust anyone.


Harry had heard enough, “Expelliarmus!”


The spell erupted from the end of Harry’s wand, but Snape was easily able to step to one side. It hit the far wall instead, and left a large black mark.


“Really, is that the best you can do? You haven’t learned anything Potter, have you?”


Harry ignored Snape’s remark and aimed again, “Stupefy!”


Again Snape stepped aside before the spell hit him. This time the spell hit a small table with a tea set. It was sent crashing to the floor.


Snape merely looked at the broken china, “I think Dumbledore seriously overestimated your talents. You’re going to take more work than he anticipated. I seriously don’t see you being ready in time.”


“Quit talking and fight me. You traitor!”


This seemed to strike a nerve in the other man, “I’m no traitor,” Snape threatened. He then pulled a wand from his robes, “Very well, but it won’t be much of a fight.”


Harry advanced forward, “Petrificus-“


Before Harry could finish, a spell came from the end of Snape’s wand and hit Harry’s legs. Harry found his legs frozen in place, but he could still move his arms. He pointed his wand and yelled, “Locomotor Mortis!”


Again, Snape’s spell reached Harry almost before Harry was done with his own incantation. Harry’s wand flew from his hand, as he was knocked into a chair. Both went crashing to the floor. Harry struggled to get up, but Snape was too fast. Before Harry knew it, he was completely paralyzed by a full body curse.


Harry tried to move, but he knew it was no use. Harry stared up at the ceiling helpless, as a greasy head hovered over him.


“I told you it wouldn’t be much of a fight. How you’ve managed to stay alive this long is beyond me. Must be pure dumb luck. Since you won’t listen to what I have to say and you’re so determined to kill me, I figure this would be the best way to get you to listen. But I’m afraid our little duel has caused a bit of a commotion. It won’t be long and someone will be coming up here to see what’s going on, and we can’t have that.”


Snape retrieved Harry’s wand. He then pulled a pocket watch from his robes and tapped it twice with his wand. Snape grabbed Harry’s arm.


Seconds later Harry felt a familiar pull at his navel. He felt himself falling, but his flight ended as suddenly as it started. He collided into something and could hear objects breaking all around him. Harry felt a sharp pain in his side. It grew around to his back and crept down his legs. His vision began to blur and darkness closed in on him until he knew no more.





***




“Potter. Wake up Potter.”


Harry slowly came out of a dreamless sleep and opened his eyes. He remembered what had happened and sat up abruptly, but was stopped by a sharp pain in his side. Harry cried out, as his hand went the source of the pain.


“Don’t move. You’ll only make it worse,” Snape snapped.


Harry licked his lips and asked, “What… what happened?”


“I used a Portkey to bring you here, but your landing was a little less than desirable. You ended up smashing the kitchen table and every dish on it. A piece of glass ended up in your side. I removed it and said a healing spell, but it will be a few days before it will heal completely. You should watch where you land next time.”


“Yeah, like I had a choice,” Harry grumbled. He laid his head back on a pillow and looked around at the tiny bedroom, “Where am I?”


“Don’t worry Potter. No one knows you’re here,” Snape assured.


“No one… Ron, Hermione, I was suppose to meet them. What time is it?” Harry asked excitedly. He tried to get up, but again was stopped by the pain.


Snape shot him a warning look, “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve been here the better part of the night. I’m sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger know your not coming and went back home.”


“They’re probably worried about me. I should send them an owl or something to let them know where I am.”


“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”


“And why not? You can’t hold me against my will,” Harry’s said, his voice rising slightly.


“Like I would want to be around you on purpose. If you would allow me to continue our conversation from earlier, you might understand,” Snape sneered.


“Yeah, like anything you say will be the truth,” Harry snorted.


“Fine. Don’t listen to me, but I’m sure you’ll listen to what Dumbledore has to say.”


“What are you talking about?” Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.


Snape quickly turned and left the room without saying a word. Several minutes later he came back with a large object in his hands. Harry recognized the item.


“Where did you get that!” Harry yelled. He felt anger swell up inside him when he saw the item in Snape’s possession.


Snape set the object near the bed, “See for yourself.”


Harry looked at Snape trying to figure out what was going on. Nothing was making sense. What was Snape doing with Dumbledore’s Pensive? And why was he here? Where was here?


Snape suddenly whirled and walked toward the door. Before exiting, he turned around like he was going to say something, but he must of changed his mind because he turned and closed the door.


Harry sat staring at the door, his mind racing. If Snape was bad, then why wasn’t he in Voldemort’s hands right now? Maybe Snape was going to turn him over to Voldemort, and it was just a matter of Voldemort getting the message so he could collect Harry. But that didn’t explain why Snape had just handed Harry Dumbledore’s Pensive.


Harry looked down at the pensive, and saw something he hadn’t notice before. A letter with his name on it was sitting on the edge of the basin. Harry slowly got out of bed and carefully bent down to pick the letter up. He recognized the handwriting as Dumbledore’s. Harry quickly opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment. He started reading.



Dear Harry,


If you’re reading this note, then I have passed on to another great adventure and you now have my Pensive in your possession. The Pensive is now yours. Do with it what you will. You may even find answers to some of your questions inside. The past can sometimes be helpful in finding the future, but to dwell too heavily on the past can do more harm than good. Remember that, as you walk the path of memories I have laid out for you.


I know my passing has not been easy for you, but it was necessary. You could not properly fulfill your destiny until it had happened. I know you may not understand this or want to accept it, but you must move past it and continue what we started together. As you do so, let your heart guide you to the truth and you will find what you seek. I know that you have what it takes to do this. I’ve already seen glimpses of it shine through you. Just remember to be true to yourself and not to be afraid to put your trust in others, even in those you may not like. Most of the journey you’re about to take, you will have to do alone, but not all of it. Never forget what your greatest power is. It burns deep inside you, and it is the one thing Voldemort will never have or truly understand.



Albus Dumbledore



Harry finished reading the letter a mixture of feelings running through him. He went to the
Pensive and caressed it fondly. .He was thrilled and heartbroken to have such a possession given to him. It was not glowing so he knew there weren’t any memories inside. He then noticed a case, which held the vials of individual memories. He opened the case and saw it was full with of tiny vials. Each vial was number starting with one and counting up to twenty-four. He guessed that this was the order he was to view them. Harry pulled out the first vial and poured it into the empty Pensive. The familiar silver light filled the bowl and Harry leaned forward. He was pulled into the whirling mass of light and found himself standing in Dumbledore’s office.


Harry turned and saw Dumbledore sitting at his desk writing. He felt relief and sadness to see his Headmaster again. Harry walked up and stood behind the old man trying to see what he was writing. He was shocked to see it was the beginning of the letter he had just read moments before. Harry watched quietly wondering why Dumbledore had chosen this memory to see first. He didn’t have to wait long. Dumbledore soon finished the letter and slipped it into his top desk drawer. He then grabbed a traveling cloak and walked to the window. He looked out onto the grounds below. Fawkes came through the window and settled on the window ledge.


“Ah, hello old friend. We may very well get lucky tonight. Thanks to you of course.”


Fawkes rubbed his head affectionately on the old man’s outstretched hand and then flew to his perch. Suddenly there was loud banging on the door, but the person did not wait for the Headmaster to acknowledge. The door swung open and Harry saw himself enter the room.


A small smile played on Dumbledore’s lips as he calmly said, “Enter.” He continued to gaze out the window.


Harry watched as he saw his past self come barreling into the room. It then dawned on the real Harry what memory he was seeing. It was the night Dumbledore died. It was just before the two of them had left for the cave. A lump found its way into his throat.


“Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me.”


His other self looked confused, “Come… with you…?”


“Only if you wish it, of course.”


“If I…” Then a look of recognition dawned on the boy’s face, “You’ve found one? You’ve found a Horcrux?”


“I believe so.”


Harry could no longer watch. He knew what was going to happen next. A turmoil of pain and anger went through him. If only he could warn them not to go. If only he could somehow let them know that the Horcrux was a fake, that if they went it would result in Dumbledore’s death. Harry’s heart sank as he realized he couldn’t do anything but stand and watch history repeat itself. But it wasn’t history it was just a memory. A very painful one at that, but if this was Dumbledore’s memory then how did it get extracted? He didn’t have time. Did he? And why would this vial be labeled as number one? Why should he relive this memory at all? Nothing made sense. He already knew what was happening. He had lived this memory with Dumbledore.


“AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!”


Harry turned back to the scene unfolding before him, as he heard his other voice yelling.


“Harry, please listen to me. Professor Snape made a terrible-“


His other self interrupted Dumbledore, “Don’t tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!”


“Please, let me finish.”


The other Harry nodded and Dumbledore continued, “Professor Snape made a terrible mistake. He was still in Lord Voldemort’s employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney’s prophecy. Naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard, for it concerned his master most deeply. But he did not know- he had no possible way of knowing- which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onward, or that the parents he would destroy in his murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew, that they were your mother and father-“


A hollow laugh came from his other self.


“He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven’t you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?”


Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “You have no idea the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he turned-”


“But he’s a very good Occlumens, isn’t he, sir?”


The other Harry’s voice shook with barley controlled emotion, “And isn’t Voldemort convinced that Snape’s on his side, even now? Professor… how can you be sure Snape’s on our side?”


Dumbledore was silent for a moment and then spoke, “I am sure. I trust Severus Snape completely.”


Harry felt like a hot knife had gone through him. How could Dumbledore trust Snape so blindly? If only he knew that the very man he trusted so completely would be the one to murder him. Hate like no other started to boil up inside him. He began to tremble with rage. Snape would pay for what he did. Harry would make sure of this. He didn’t know why Snape had brought him to wherever he was. He didn’t know why Snape had possession of Dumbledore’s Pensive. He didn’t care.


Suddenly the room around him was quiet. Harry realized the conversation between him and Dumbledore had ended and Dumbledore was alone in the room. His other self must have gone to get his Invisibility Cloak before heading off to the cave.


Dumbledore moved from the window and went to a cabinet. He pulled a small glass vial from a box and put his wand to his head. A long silver thread came from his temple. Harry felt himself being transported back to his room.


Harry didn’t want to waste any more time. He swung into action and glanced quickly around the room for any sight of his wand, of course it wasn’t there. No surprise there. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need a wand. Snape would pay one way or another.


Harry rushed towards the bedroom door, but his foot caught on something and he went crashing to the floor. Harry saw stars as a surge of pain shot through his injured side. The pain made Harry cry out. His hand went to his side. He pulled his hand away and looked down to see it covered in blood. Whatever Snape had done to fix him he had just undone. The thought of Snape gave Harry a cold steady resolve and he pulled himself up to his knees.


That’s when he saw the vials scattered across the room. They had rolled in every direction. Panic gripped Harry. He couldn’t lose his only connection he had with his mentor and friend. A quick inspection showed them all to be intact. He sighed with relief. Dumbledore must have put an unbreakable spell on them.


Harry quickly started to gather the vials and put them back in the case he had tripped over. A few minutes later he had most of the vials in their rightful place. He picked up the last one, number three. He started to place it in the box when he noticed with horror that he could see a silvery mist coming from around the seal of the corked bottle. Harry quickly opened the vial and placed the silvery substance inside the Pensive before it had a chance to escape.


“That was close,” Harry said out loud.


He was about to get up when he saw a familiar greasy head inside the pensive. It was Snape. Curiosity made Harry lean in to get a closer look. Before he knew what was happening he was being pulled into another memory.


This time he found himself in a place he did not recognize. He saw Dumbledore sitting in a living room with Snape. Their hands were joined. A man Harry did not recognize stood over the two men with his wand pointed at the clasped hands.


Dumbledore began to speak, “Will you Severus Snape, watch over Harry Potter as he attempts to fulfill his destiny?”


“I will,” Snape replied.


A tongue of red fire came from the wand and circled its way around the hands like a red-hot wire.
“And will you, to the best of your ability teach and guide him to learn what he needs to face his future.”


“I will.”


A second tongue of brilliant fire shot from the wand and intertwined with the first one, making a glowing chain of fire.


“And, should it prove necessary and if the time comes you will do everything in your power to protect Harry, even if it means sacrifice of myself or yourself?”


This time there was a slight hesitation from Snape, but he continued, “I will.”


A third and final flame came from the wand and intertwined with the others binding itself around the clasped hands like a fiery snake.


“I was wondering how he was going to convince you of my allegiance.”


Startled Harry whirled around and saw a second Snape. He knew this was the real one.


“Why? Why did you do it?” Harry replied, still in complete shock of what he had just witnessed.


“I had my reasons. We need to go. Your training needs to begin immediately, if we ever hope to have you ready in time.”


For once Harry didn’t argue as he followed Snape out of the memory. He wasn’t sure if he could believe what he’d just witnessed. Snape hated him. Why would he do such a thing? Why would he take a magical vow that couldn’t be broken to protect him, of all people? It just didn’t make sense.


Once out of the memory Harry turned to Snape, “Was that real? Did it really happen?”


“Memories don’t lie,” Snape replied.


“But… but Dumbledore…”


“He knew what he was doing when he asked me to make the vow and to kill him.”


Harry balked at Snape’s audacity to think Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him, “No he didn’t! I was there!”


“Then you remember only what you want, because he did,” Snape replied quietly.


Harry thought back to that night. He did remember Dumbledore begging Snape to help him. Had he misunderstood? It did seem out of character to hear his Headmaster begging for his life. Maybe Snape was right. Maybe he was asking…


“NO! I WON’T BELIEVE IT! YOU KILLED HIM!”


“At his request,” Snape simply replied.


“IT’S STILL MURDER!”


“I will not explain myself any further to you. I did what was necessary, as should you. Believe what you want Potter, but I am here to help you. I’m not happy about it, but I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”


Harry stood glaring at Snape. His anger toward his former Professor started to dissipate. It was replaced by confusion and uncertainty. He didn’t know what to think, or who to trust. It was just too much to take in. Harry sat on his bed and winched with pain as he did so. He looked down at his side. He had forgotten he had opened the wound back up.


Snape noticed Harry’s bloody shirt. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry’s side, and began mumbling under his breath. Harry felt a coolness go through him and the pain stopped.


“I still don’t trust or like you,” Harry sighed too tired to fight anymore.


“The feeling is mutual,” Snape smirked.


That was the beginning of Harry and Snape’s shaky alliance. They each had their own reasons for the strange truce. Harry wasn’t exactly sure what Snape’s was, but he knew it was important if he was willing to make such a vow concerning someone he obviously hated. Harry decided if Snape could put his differences aside, then so could he. It was the least he could do for Dumbledore, who had sacrificed so much for him. Since then the two of them have endured each other’s presence with a controlled animosity.

Snape immediately began Harry’s intense training the very next day. Five weeks of isolation and endless lessons occupied all of Harry’s time and thoughts. Harry still didn’t understand why he couldn’t at least tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny where he was. But Snape was insistent that it remain this way for the time being for the safety of them both. Harry compiled, but he wasn’t happy about it.


“Now that you finally managed to do a spell nonverbally, maybe we can advance to something more challenging.” Snape sneered.


“Fine with me,” Harry replied, coming back to the present.


Snape narrowed his eyes, “You really should take this training more seriously.”


“I am taking it seriously.”


“Really, so you understand what is at stake here?”


“Yes, I do,” Harry looked the other man straight in the eyes.


“Then I shouldn’t have to explain to you that this training is the most important thing for you to be doing. You should be putting all your energy and concentration in it. How well you train will determine how successful you will be in defeating the Dark Lord, if you even can.”


“I can and I will,” Harry answered a determined look on his face.


Snape smirked, “That remains to be seen. The only way you will defeat him is if you meet him on his level.”


“What is that suppose to mean?”


“No mercy, Potter. Show him no mercy.”

A man shivered uncontrollably, as he laid in the dark on a cold stone floor. His aching muscles began to spasm in pain and fatigue, but he remained on the hard surface. A burning fire of agony racked his chest, while short shallow gasps resounded against the confined space. He braced his body against the cold coming from a small slit of a window high above. He longed for the steely cold to go away, but he knew better. He had spent so much time in the cramped prison. He knew that to wish for warmth was pointless, or even common amenities such as a blanket or a bed for his aching back.


The man fleetingly wondered how much longer he would have to endure such treatment. He had lost all track of time. As far as he was concerned, he could have been imprisoned for months, or even years. Time no longer had any meaning for him. He just wanted to know why they had kept him alive this long. Why hadn’t they killed him already? Death would be a sweet release from his terrifying reality.


The man twinged, as he heard the scuffing of feet from outside the room’s door. Moments later the latch released and the metal door swung open with a rusty creak. A piercing light flooded the room, blinding the still prone man. He could hear something hit the floor with a thud, and a gruff voice jeer, “Here’s some company. Have fun.”


His jailer howled out a terrifying laugh and closed the cell’s door with a loud bang. Once alone, the man peered into the shadows, trying to glimpse what the guard had meant. To the man’s horror he saw the outline of a body in the far corner. He tried to call out to the other, but his words caught in his cracked throat. A barely audible hissing noise erupted from his vocal chords.


Frustrated the man slowly pulled himself up with great effort from the floor, and began crawling his way to the figure. As he got closer, he could see the body was an old man with white hair and a long beard. The person seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he the name would not come to his mind. The shaking man edged closer.


Once he was within inches of the body, he stretched out a trembling hand and roughly jabbed at the still form, but there was no response. Two more quick jabs had the same result. The man decided the person must be dead. He sighed and quietly crawled back to his previous resting place. Instead off lying back on the floor, he rested his back against the wall and brought his knees up to his chest. One thought kept running over and over in his mind, Please let him be dead. Please let him be dead.


Time stood still as the haggard man began rocking back and forth slowly. His eyes fixed on the outlined figure before him. Was it his imagination or did he see the old man move? No, it must have been his imagination. It had to be.


The light streaming into the room, from the gap above, started to become dimmer by the second. It would be night soon, but more importantly there would be a full moon tonight. The trembling man was more than just cold now. He was frightened of what he might do, of what he knew he would do.


The man suddenly doubled over in pain and screamed. It was starting. The transformation would take place soon and there was nothing he could do about it. Familiar spasms shot through his body, as tears came to his eye. Remus managed to whisper three words between sobs before the transformation completed, “No, not again.”





***




The next day, Remus awoke to being dragged violently from his cell between two large men. His mind was a whirling mass of confusion and his body in agony. Remus tried desperately to remember where he was, as he was unceremoniously hauled up a flight of steps and down a long dark hall. He was taken into a large room and placed in shackles hanging from a wall at the far end.


Still confused, he looked around at the nearly empty chamber for a clue to where he might be. He could see a lonely table set against a distant wall. A cauldron and multiple potion vials littered the wood surface. A thick green smoke was currently belching from the black pot, filling the room and making it difficult for Remus to breathe. His eyes teared up from the repulsive aroma, as the smoke turned into a haze of green fog. He squinted through the vapor and saw that three walls of the room were lined with chains very similar to the ones he now was in. He caught a glint out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a large silver shield with an emblem of a great black bird etched in its surface.


Remus winched in pain. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what had caused his body so much affliction. As if struck by lightening, his memory came flooding into him, pushing back his other murky thoughts and sending cold chills through his body. Despite the chills, Remus suddenly began sweating profusely, as he hung limply in his restraints. He knew what was coming next, only because he had to endure it more times than he could remember since his capture.


Remus eyes remained tightly closed as he desperately tried to think of something else, anything else. At first he could only think of his plight, but slowly a familiar face came into focus. It was such a beautiful and comforting face. A tingling warmth soon worked its way through his body as he thought of her. Before he knew what was happening, it had spread into every inch of him like a fire gone wild. It was then when Remus knew that everything would be okay, that he could endure what was coming. As long as he could hold that precious image of the pink haired smiling love of his life, he could withstand anything. The pain and agony that had previously racked his body disappeared. It was replaced with peacefulness and a warm fire that burned brightly inside him like a beacon of hope.


Remus lifted his head, as he heard someone enter the room. The guards who had chained him to the wall had long disappeared and left the door ajar. Greyback walked through the open door and approached Remus with a sneer on his face and wand at the ready. The shackled man simply looked at his captor and smiled. Instead of seeing the large intimidating man glaring down at him with a maniacal glimmer in his eyes, Remus could only see the sweet dark twinkling eyes of his wife staring back at him.





***





The room was dark and quiet as two people stretched out in front of a cozy crackling fire. A woman leaned up against a plush sofa cradling a man’s head in her lap, “Remus, let’s get married,” Tonks said, lovingly caressing the saggy scalp.


“What?” he asked, lifting his head to gaze up at the woman.


A look of annoyance came to Tonks eyes, but it quickly passed. She pushed him back into her lap, “What do you mean, what? We talked about this, remember?”


“I remember. I was the one to ask you to marry me.” A moment passed, as Remus drew repeating circles on her arm, his face screwed up in concentration. “When?”


“Now.”


“Now? So soon?” The disbelief he was feeling must have been evident in his voice, because this time Tonks’ annoyed look did not go away.


She pushed the man roughly away from her, eyes flashing with anger, “And why not now? You’ll be leaving again soon, and who knows when you’ll be back.”


Remus looked confused, as he tried to figure out exactly what had just happened. His confusion quickly turned into frustration as he realized he had just lost his comfortable spot. He would never admit it, but he loved the way she played with his hair, “But Sugar Pops-”


Tonks anger dissipated at hearing his nickname for her, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. She shook her head. The large silver and blue baubles in her ears swung freely in the fire light, “No, Remus. No buts. Let’s just do it. Come on, it will be fun. It’s not like we have to invite a bunch of guests or anything. You’re the one who wanted a private ceremony. So why wait?”


“But-”


“There you go again. But what? Are you saying you don’t want to marry me now, that you don’t love me?” Tonks cocked her head to one side. Her dark eyes twinkled with mischief.


Remus feigned a look of utter horror, but said nothing.


Tonks slapped him and pouted, “Well?”


Instead of answering, he leaned in and placed his lips on hers. He hungrily pulled her into his embrace, kissing her with passionate zeal. A few heavenly moments later, he pulled away and gently rested her fuchsia head on his chest. He nestled his nose in her soft hair whispering tenderly, “Of course I love you, my sweet darling. And if you want to get married right now, then we will.”


Tonks looked up and stared deep into her lover’s eye, “Really?”


“Really.”


“But what about-”


Remus put a finger to her lips, “Now whose being difficult? And you’re right it may be awhile before I come back.”


Tonks threw her arms around his neck, “Oh Remus, I’m so happy. I wish this moment could last forever.”


Remus sighed contently, as he held his future wife, “Me too.”





***






Remus was jolted out his peaceful dream by a maniacal scream, “WHY HAVEN’T YOU FOUND HIM YET?”


Startled he looked around trying to get his bearings. After a quick glance, he noticed that he was still in the large chamber from before. Greyback was nowhere to be seen. Remus guessed he must have passed out from exhaustion during his routine interrogation. But if he was alone, then where had the angry voice come from? He knew he hadn’t imagined it. His heart began to pound in the ears, as he wondered who was so upset. He suddenly heard a sound coming from the open doorway. Remus closed his eyes straining to hear what the low nervous voice was saying.


“My- my Lord, we’re… everywhere. H-h- he… can’t be found… maybe… Prophet was-.”


“Crucio.”


“Aaahhhh…” a terrifying shriek filled the air and reverberated off the walls, as it filtered in from the hall.


The menacing voice spoke again, but in much quieter and threatening tone, “I would know if Potter was dead you imbecile.”


Chills ran up and down Remus’ spine as he finally realized who the voice belonged to. Blood chilling screams drowned out the rest of what was being said. Remus shuttered as the man’s cries became louder and louder. To his shame, he was glad that it was someone else being tortured for a change and not himself. After awhile, the noise died down and an eerie quiet hung in the air. Remus struggled to hear more, wondering what had happened to Harry.


Anger coursed through his veins, as he heard an all too familiar voice break the frosty silence, “My Lord, may I a make suggestion?”


“Make it short Snape,” Voldemort snapped.


“Potter can not stay in hiding forever, and I don’t think he would want to. We could draw him out before he is ready. This would give us the upper hand.”


“Don’t waste my time with the obvious. If you have something to say, then say it.”


“Of course, my Lord, I was purposing that we should exploit his weaknesses to bait him into a trap.”


“This is not news to me. In fact, I will be putting just such a plan into action. Since some of my servants are incapable of doing as they are asked,” the distain in Voldemort’s voice left no doubt to anyone in who he was referring to. He continued, “It appears that I am surrounded by incompetent fools. You have been one of the few that has proven your loyalty to me. Therefore I want you to implement my plan.


“But my Lord, I thought I…” a woman protested.


“SILENCE! You forget your place.”


“Yes, my Lord,” the woman answered nervously.


“All of you leave us. I want to talk to Snape alone.”


The voices were suddenly cut off as he heard feet walking down the hall and a door close. Remus pulled against his restrains in frustration, hoping to hear more. But he knew his actions where futile. He rested his back up against the wall wondering what was being said behind the closed door.


He had to find away to warn Harry. To let him know that they where planning something to catch him. He had to figure a way out, or at least somehow to get word to him. Remus took a deep breath and tried to pull against his restraints again, but this time exerting more strength. As he expected, nothing happened. It was no use, he wasn’t going anywhere.


Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by a large figure coming through the door across the room. It was Greyback. Remus sighed. It was going to start again soon. He braced himself for what he knew was coming.




***





Several agonizing hours later, Remus’ mind was beginning to weaken. He didn’t know how much more he could take. He had long forgotten about the conversation he had overheard earlier, and was close to forgetting even who he was. His world was turning upside down and he was powerless to stop it.


Remus looked up at his tormentor and saw a wicked smile plaster on Greyback’s face. His stomach began to get queasy, as he saw everything start to swirl around rapidly. Nothing seemed real anymore, while he watched everything collided together and become one large pool of light and color. Deep inside the whirling mass, he caught a glimpse of a bright pink head, and dark eyes that peered deep into his soul.


“Ssssgggrrr Possss-”


Greyback leaned in closer to hear what the tormented man was trying to say, “What was that?”


“Ssssuugrrr Popssss.”


Greyback got a strange look on his face, “Sugar Pops? What does Sugar Pops have to do with anything?”


Remus did not hear the burly man’s question. He was too busy watching a beautiful dancing woman float in and out of sight. She was breath taking, as she skipped freely among a large field of bright blue flowers and large stocks of vivid pink Sugar Pop candies.

“Sir, I want to ask you something.”


“Ask away then, m’boy, ask away…”


“Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?”


A rather plump man ran his hand nervously through his hair, as he stroked an empty wine glass with his other. He eyed the tall dark haired youth in front of him, “Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?”


The teenager shook his head, “Not exactly, sir. I came across the term while reading and I didn’t fully understand it.”


“No… well…” The large man had a doubtful look on his face, but he continued, “You’d be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that’ll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that’s very dark stuff, very dark stuff indeed.”


“But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you- sorry, I mean, if you can’t tell me, obviously- I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could- so I thought I’d ask-”


Harry could watch no more, and angrily turned around, stepping out of the memory. Once back in his tiny bedroom, he kicked at the base of the Pensieve. All he received for his effort was a sharp pain that shot through his foot and ended somewhere in his lower leg. The scowl on his face lengthened as he went to his desk and sat heavily in the chair in front of it.


He glanced at the box holding the memories from Dumbledore, only to feel more anger rush through him. He was exasperated that Dumbledore had wasted the few memories he’d left him, by putting in ones he had already shown him in his sixth year. So, why show him something he already knew? Why show him Tom pumping Professor Slughorn for information about Horcruxes? Did Dumbledore actually think that he would forget? Why couldn’t Dumbledore show him something he could use? Something that would show Harry on what he should do next?


It seemed like such a waste of time and memories. He had gone through eight of them and every single one Harry had already seen or been apart of. Well, except for one. And he would never know what that memory contained. That was another reason for his anger, because he was upset at himself for allowing a memory to get away.


Harry didn’t know what had happened, but shortly after Snape had given him the Pensieve he noticed that the vial containing the second memory had leaked out. The silver liquid that was once inside was long gone. Harry could only guess that when he knocked over the case after he first received the gift, it caused the seal to break and the memory to leak out. He was furious with himself for not inspecting the memories more closely, when he had the chance. Since then, he was being more careful with them. He even put a stronger unbreakable and super sealing spells on the precious remaining twenty-three vials.


Harry picked up an empty vial with an eight on the outside. He walked back to the Pensive and pulled the memory from the bowl and into the vial. He corked the bottle, set it in its place in the case and sighed. Only sixteen more memories to go and that was it. This excited and saddened him at the same time.


Harry gently caressed the next vial in line. His finger outlined the shape of a nine, as he wondered what this memory held. Would it finally be one he hadn’t seen? Would it be one that told him what he should do next?


He started to pick up the vial, when he heard a sharp knock on the door. Harry gently set the glass container back in its place and closed the lid. He walked to the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary. As expected, Snape stood on the other side with the usual sour look on his face.


“We need to talk.” Without saying another word, Snape turned around abruptly and marched down the narrow hall disappearing around a corner.


Harry shrugged and followed. After spending almost every waking moment of the last two months with the greasy git, he was actually getting use to Snape’s rude mannerisms. In some ways, it was comforting to know that some things never change.


He followed Snape’s loud footsteps up the hallway and down a creaky flight of stairs, stepping into the large living room below. It once had been a rather cozy sitting area, but now it was used for vigorous training. The furniture pushed to one side and black scorch marks that decorated the bare walls was testimony to this. It was where Harry had spent most of his time in the last eight weeks. He now stood in his usual place at the middle of the room, while waiting for Snape to reveal why he had been summoned. Snape simply ignored Harry, as he rummaged through a small wooden cabinet nearby.


Eight weeks, it seemed like it had been a lifetime. So much had happened to him in such a short period, physically and emotionally. His training had progressed well, or so he thought. It had finally gotten to the point were Snape wasn’t yelling at him every few minutes and insulting his heritage because he couldn’t do anything right. He also felt more confident in his abilities and knew that the next time he met up with any Death Eaters or Voldemort, they would have a nasty fight on their hands.


Emotionally, Harry was still struggling with Dumbledore’s death, but having the memories was a source of comfort for him, because he felt like Dumbledore was somehow looking over his shoulder and reaching beyond the grave to help him one last time.


Harry also still had trouble dealing with the fact that he was actually working with Snape and putting so much trust in him. This was a man he had vowed to catch up to and make pay for Dumbledore’s death, but instead he was working with him and putting his very life in the murderer’s hands. He couldn’t quite understand why he was doing this. Why he hadn’t already turned the git in and had him sent to Azkaban where he belonged? The whole thing just didn’t sit right with him, especially since he couldn’t understand why Snape would make an unbreakable vow with Dumbledore to protect someone he hated so much. Since their odd truce, he had asked Snape on several occasions why he had taken the vow. But every time, Harry’s question was met with silence, or a harsh bark to concentrate harder on his studies. He just hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake, but Dumbledore seemed to know what he was doing. So Harry decided to work with Snape and see where things led.


Snape finally spoke, breaking into Harry’s thoughts, “I must leave immediately and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. While I’m away, use this to continue your studies.” He had pulled out a small leather covered book from one of the cabinet’s dusty drawers and handed it to Harry.


He looked at the other man, one brow raised slightly, “I don’t understand. Where are you going?”


He replied by lifting up his left sleeve revealing the twisting snake and glowing skull on his flesh.


Harry’s eyes narrowed, “What does he want?”


“I don’t know, but I must leave immediately and there’s no telling when I might be back. Stay here. I’ll contact you as soon as possible,” he then disapparated from the room.


Harry was left looking at the empty space that was just occupied by his professor with a frown on his face. He held the leather book in one hand and absentmindedly stroked the gold locket around his neck. What was Voldemort up to now? He hoped that Snape would bring back some useful information. Even with Snape acting as an inside man, the information on Voldemort’s movements had been sketchy at best. It seemed that Voldemort was being very quiet of late and that only meant one thing. He was definitely up to something. The question was what?



***



The cup…the snake…something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s. Harry had been lying on his lumpy mattress for the better part of an hour, staring at the ceiling wishing for sleep, but none came. His mind was racing with too many distractive ideas to allow any rest. The main thing occupying his mind was his search for the Horcruxes, or rather the lack of it.


He had spent the last two months with Snape in training, which was good. He had to admit that everything he’d learned up to this point was very helpful, even if he was learning those things from a total git. But doing this required most of his time and energy and left very little to dedicate to the mission he had set upon himself to do. This bothered Harry more than he could admit. He had to continue his search and soon.


Another thing that bothered him, was what to do next and where to go in his search. After finding the locket, Harry felt like he’d hit a brick wall. He had no idea how he was supposed to go about destroying the Slytherin heirloom, and he was pretty sure the answer wouldn’t be lying around in a book somewhere. As for the other Horcruxes, he had no clue where to begin to look for them. Harry was starting to sorely miss the guiding hand of Dumbledore. Up until recently, he had never realized how much he’d relied on the old man for support and counsel.


In frustration, Harry rolled over to his side. He noticed the Pensive resting in the far corner and sat up abruptly. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well do something useful with his time. He walked over to the desk, taking the ninth memory from the case. Harry poured the memory into the basin and watched as the whirling silver mass revealed Dumbledore walking down a sloping rocky hillside. Without thinking twice, he leaned into the bowl and was immediately sucked into the depths of time.


Harry found himself standing on an overgrown path, with large hedgerows lining the trail. He turned just in time to see the edge of Dumbledore’s robe whip around a sharp corner ahead. He walked briskly to catch up with the professor. When he rounded the corner, Harry finally recognized where he was. This was the path that lead to the old Gaunt house. The familiar expansive view of the town of Little Hangleton lay before him. Harry could see the patch of dark trees that hid the little house up ahead. Dumbledore was already entering the shadowy overgrowth. Harry picked up his pace to a jog, Dumbledore moved quickly for an old man.


Once inside, it took a minute for Harry’s eyes to focus in the dark room, but when he did he saw Dumbledore staring thoughtfully at the far wall, stroking his long white beard. He was curious to know what the Headmaster found so interesting about the wall, but he knew it was pointless to ask. So Harry waited, hoping that Dumbledore would give some clue to why he had come here in the first place. Then it suddenly dawned on him what was going on, the ring. Dumbledore had told him he had found the ring at the house. This must have been when he had found it.


Harry started to get excited. He knew that this memory was important. Better yet, it wasn’t one he had already seen. So he soaked in the scene trying to take in as much as he could. He quickly glanced around the room, only seeing dust, rotting wood, and plants taking over the long abandoned house. Wherever the ring was, Voldemort was sure not to leave it in plain sight. It then occurred to Harry what was perplexing Dumbledore. The room had no other doors except for the one he had just come through. If Harry remembered correctly, there should have been two other doors side by side leading to two additional rooms. Where did they go?


“Mmmm… This is strange,” Dumbledore replied quietly. He pulled his wand from his robes and started to mumble a spell.


Harry watched the corroding stone of the wall intently, expecting the missing doors to appear, but nothing happened. That didn’t stop Dumbledore. He continued to chant for what seemed like hours until Harry could see a sliver of blue light erupt from the end of Dumbledore’s wand and slit into two streams. Each stream hit a spot in the stonewall revealing the faint edges of what must have been where the doors had once stood.


A sudden bright burst of light momentarily blinded Harry. When he opened his eyes, the outlined doors were radiating blue. They each appeared to shimmer like pools of water. The light from the translucent surfaces was so strong; Harry had to squint to even look at the doors.


Dumbledore had stopped chanting and stepped closer to the glowing rectangles. He slowly placed a hand into one of the openings, which disappeared in the shimmering light. He then pulled his hand back out. It was unharmed, “Interesting, which one leads to the ring? Stepping into the wrong door could be disastrous.”


Harry was thinking pretty much the same thing. But before he could even contemplate the question further, Dumbledore quickly stepped into the left doorway.


Immediately upon entering, Harry knew Dumbledore had chosen the wrong door. He knew this from the slithering mass of bodies that stretched out as far as the eye could see, which wasn’t far in the dark pit. The light from the doorway behind illuminated an abyss of scaly skin and intertwined reptiles that came to Dumbledore’s waist. He was currently shouting spells to try and repel the snakes, but to little success. There were more than even he could possibly control and they were hungry for a kill.


Harry desperately wished he could help. He knew with his ability to speak Parseltongue, he could at least make a path for Dumbledore to get back to the door, but all he could do was watch. The snakes began to get thicker as they encompassed the old man trying to pull him away from the doorway. They now reached his chest, but Dumbledore’s resolve did not wavier. He continued to shoot spells at the furious reptiles as he advanced against the moving horde, back to the door. The thick mass encumbered his every movement, allowing him to move only mere inches. He was still at least four feet from the door, and it didn’t look like he was going to make it. Dumbledore suddenly stopped moving all together and stood still. The snakes took advantage of this and soon overwhelmed the old man completely.


Harry’s heart clinched in his chest, as he watched the Headmaster disappear beneath the slithering mass. He couldn’t be giving up. He just couldn’t. Fear started to craw up Harry’s spine; as he listened to deafening hissing sounds vibrate off invisible walls. Dumbledore would survive this. He had to. Harry had been there when his Headmaster had died and this was not it.


Without warning, a loud bang sounded and reptile bodies were sent flying in all directions. A thick cloud of scaly bodies and arid smoke filled the chamber, as a startled Harry caught a glimpse of quick movement rush towards the door. A whirling light filled his senses and he found himself back in the living area of the Gaunt home.


He looked to see Dumbledore leaning heavily against the wall. His breathing was coming in loud gasps and his hands shook violently. Dumbledore’s normal rosy complexion was nearly white, except for red punctures covering large parts of his visible skin. A normal person would have collapsed from the trauma, but not Dumbledore. He took a tiny vial from his robes and quickly drank its contents. Some of the color came back to his skin and his breathing steadied, “That won’t last for long. I’d better hurry.” The old man pushed himself from the wall and walked to the other doorway, a look of resolve on his face. He stepped into the light.


Harry again was transported to yet another room, but this one looked to be a normal room, a bedroom at that. He looked around at the decaying furniture. A bed with a moldy mattress stood in one corner, while a broken rocking chair occupied the other. Harry looked down to see a spider scramble over a tattered dress near the foot of the bed. This must have been Merope’s room.


Harry noticed Dumbledore kneeling by the bed. He went to stand behind the professor, as he pried a floorboard up. Underneath, was a small rusted jewelry box. Dumbledore pulled it from its resting place and dusted off the lid. He turned the box carefully around in his hands examining it closely. Harry noticed three knobs with numbers zero to nine on the front of the metal box right away, so did Dumbledore. He peered at the knobs carefully and began to experimentally turn them. A soft click was heard and Dumbledore lifted the lid only to reveal an empty box. “Ahhh… I’ve seen these before. You have to get the combination right in order for the boxes true contents to be revealed.”


The minutes slowly ticked by, as Harry watched Dumbledore try one combination after another. Each time upon opening the box it would either be empty or contain pieces of jewelry, but not the piece of jewelry Dumbledore was looking for. Harry was starting to get frustrated. Why was Dumbledore sitting here wasting time opening a box when he should get back to Hogwarts and seek medical attention? Whatever that potion Dumbledore had taken earlier was wearing off. Harry could tell by the increasing sweat on the man’s forehead and his skin was turning dangerously clear, but the old man did not seem to notice, or either didn’t care.


“I wonder… would he be so obvious?” Dumbledore said breathing heavily. He turned the knobs one at a time. Each set on the number seven. The familiar click sounded. When the lid was opened, a large gold ring set with a black stone lay inside. Dumbledore took it from the box and placed in on his palm, “So this is Marvolo’s ring. Thank you Tom for being a creature of habit.”


Dumbledore got up from the floor and walked out of the room. Once back in the outer room, he went straight to the fireplace and tossed the ring unceremoniously into it. He stood back and pulled his wand out. He pointed it to the ring and shot a streamed of fire at it. The ring simply sat there unscathed as Dumbledore continued to release blazing hot fire onto it. Soon the stones of the fireplace began to glow from the steady heat, but still the ring stayed intact. The fire could no longer be contained in the small space and it began to spread to the nearby floor and ceiling.


Before Harry knew what was happening, he heard a loud roaring noise come from the fireplace as the fire building up inside turned a vibrant orange and shot out towards Dumbledore, engulfing his wand and arm in bright flames. A loud scream rivaled the roaring of the fire, as Harry raced forward, only to stop in his tracks. He was not part of the memory and could do nothing, but once again watch in helplessness. Harry stood by as he watched the fire grow bigger and brighter by the second. Dumbledore had vanished from sight all together inside the now burning wall of flame. Harry began to panic desperately wishing Dumbledore had brought someone with him to help.


The loud roaring from the fire filled the whole room and shook what was left of the decaying house, causing the floor underneath Harry to convulse violently. He slowly started to back his way towards the open front door, as the wall of fire flooded the whole room. He wasn’t sure if he could get burned from the fire since it was a memory, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He swore he could feel the heat of the flames on his face, as they passed mere inched from him. A piece of burning roof fell and passed through him. Harry looked wide-eyed as he saw the burning wood occupy the same space as him. Well I guess that answers that question. Knowing that he could safely maneuver through the house without being harmed, he stepped forward to find Dumbledore.


Once back near the fireplace, he spotted his old Headmaster, but instead of seeing the man burning, he saw him standing among the flame, the only sign of damage was a burnt arm. At closer glance, Harry saw that a protective shield enwrapped him making a bubble of space that resisted the heat and flames of the fire. Harry watched in relief and awe as the man slowly pushed the bubble outward distinguishing the raging fire all around him, until slowly every flame was gone. Soon all that was left behind was smoking wood and a very tired looking man. Harry looked up to see the blue sky above him. The roof had completely collapsed, leaving partial walls that shook slightly in the stiff breeze. There was only a blackened shell left of the Gaunt home.


Dumbledore paid no attention to this, as he started to shift through the debris with his good arm. He went back to the fireplace and felt around the smoldering wood and stones. A few seconds later, he pulled what he was looking for out of the ruins.


“Strange that it’s cold to the touch,” he replied slipping the ring onto his finger, which now had a large crack through the middle of the black gem.


Dumbledore looked very pale as he turned and carefully picked his way out of the rubble. Moments later, he was clear of what was left of the Gaunt house and began to climb the rocky pathway without looking back.


The memory ended abruptly and Harry was transported back to his bedroom. He stood in a daze as he tried to comprehend everything he’d just witnessed. Slowly, he replayed each detail of Dumbledore’s memory through his mind.


As if struck by lightning, everything suddenly became as clear as day to Harry. He knew that he couldn’t put off the search for the rest of the Horcruxes any longer. The confusion and indecision from before was gone. All that was left was a clear and direct plan. The time for training was over. It was now time for action and he knew exactly what he had to do next.

“We need to hurry or we’ll be late.”

Ron walked faster in order to keep up with Hermione who was already halfway down the hall. “Where are we going?” he yelled after her. His voice echoed through the long corridor, disturbing the sleeping portraits nearby.

“You’ll see,” she threw over her shoulder.

“How is an old woman supposed to get any sleep with that racket going on?” Ron jumped and reeled around at the unexpected rasping voice coming from beside him. He searched to see who had spoken when he noticed a tall painting near him. In front of a small cottage, an aged woman leaned heavily on a cane staring daggers at him.

“Sorry,” Ron whispered feebly, as he turned to catch up with Hermione.

This didn’t placate the woman, because she persisted to berate his receding back. Ron rolled his eyes as he turned the corner. He caught sight of the bushy haired girl up ahead and picked up his pace.

He was starting to get really frustrated at Hermione. This wasn’t the first time in the last few months that she had dragged him around without telling him what they were doing, or where they going. He felt like he was some extension of her arm, and he didn’t have the luxury of knowing what was on her mind. Ever since Harry had disappeared, things were getting worse, a lot worse. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

He finally caught up with Hermione in a deserted corridor. She was currently walking up and down in one spot along a wall. Soon, a door appeared out of nowhere right in front of her. Hermione reached to open the door and the two of them stepped through it. Ron was shocked at what he saw once inside.

“Hermione, what is this?” He asked, looking around at the people spread throughout the room who all seemed to be preoccupied with talking to each other.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like the old… no your not…Harry…”

Hermione interrupted, “Yes, I am. Look Ron, just because Harry’s not around doesn’t mean we should stop searching for the Horcruxes.”

“I know that. And we haven’t. We’ve been busting our bums and everything else looking for them. It’s not our fault we haven’t found any yet. And it’s not like Voldemort would just lay them out where anyone could find them.”

“Exactly, that’s why we need help.”

“But I thought Harry didn’t want anyone else to know about the Horcruxes.”

“They won’t.”

“Huh?”

“I asked them to come here to help, but I don’t plan on telling them for what. Besides, why do you think we came back to Hogwarts?”

“Because you said, ‘Ron, we’re going back to school’ without bothering to explain why. The last I heard we were going to search for the Horcruxes with Harry.”

“Except Harry isn’t around is he?”

Ron looked at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What could he possibly say to that? How could she be so callous? He desperately tried to think of something to say in return. He wanted to say something mean and hurtful. It was bad enough that she never told him anything, but restarting the D.A. without even saying a word to him was just too much.

They both glared at each other not saying a word. The tension between them must have been noticed by the others in the room, because soon all eyes were on the two of them. A heavy silence settled on the occupants of the room.

Ginny spoke up, “Hey, are you two going to explain why you asked us here, or what? Some of us have things to do and places to be. We don’t have time for the two of you to work out your issues.”

A dark look crossed Hermione’s eyes as she faced Ginny. “Ron and I don’t have issues.”

Ginny snorted, “Yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night, Hermione.”

“Whatever, I didn’t come here to pick a fight. I came here for a reason,” without missing a beat she then turned to address the rest of the room. “Hello everyone thank you all so much for coming. I know you’re probably wondering why I asked you here.”

“They're not the only ones,” Ron said under his breath.

This earned him a nasty glare from Hermione, but she continued to talk to the now expectant faces, “Anyways, I asked you here because most of you were once part of the D.A. and I was hoping that each of you would consider reprising your status in the organization. And those of you who are new here tonight might consider joining.”

“You plan on restarting the D.A?” Neville asked excitedly.

“Yes, that was the plan.”

“It’s about time!” Neville exclaimed.

“But what…what about Harry?” a timid Colin Creevey asked.

“Yeah, where is he anyway? I hear Voldemort got him,” Seamus inquired.

The room was silent for a moment. The question had been on all of there minds since the beginning of school. They hoped to finally get an answer.

Hermione sighed, “Look, we don’t really know where Harry is right now, and that’s an even bigger reason not to put such an important mission on hold.”

“What mission?” Zacharias asked.

“The mission to defeat Voldemort once and for all, naturally,” Luna said dreamily.

Pavati giggled, “And how would you know…”

“She’s right,” Hermione interrupted. “I can’t give you all the details, at least not yet. But I can tell you that before Harry disappeared the three of us were working on a way to stop Voldemort.”

The whole room suddenly broke out into excited chatter, each shouting out questions to both Ron and Hermione. It was several minutes before it calm down enough for Hermione to speak, “I know you all have a lot of questions, but now is not the time for that. Now is the time for action, to rebuild the D.A. Each of you needs to decide if this is something you want to be a part of. I also want to make it very clear that, if you chose do this, the risk of being a member will more than just expulsion from school. I know I’m asking a lot of you. If you decide the risk is too great, we will understand. But this decision needs to be made now. Those of you who do not want to be apart of this, I ask you please to leave. Everyone else must sign up again using this parchment. ” She said this while unrolling a scroll on a nearby table.

“I suppose you hexed this one too?” someone asked from the back of the room.

“I’m sorry, but part of the requirement to being a member is signing this sheet. That is non-negotiable,” Hermione replied sternly.

The room was silent for several long moments. It remained this way as people slowly started to come forward and sign the parchment in front of Hermione. Fifteen minutes later, everyone in the room had come forward, surprisingly no one had opted to leave. Once the last signature was on the sheet, Hermione leaned over to sign her own name. She then handed the quill to Ron.

Ron looked down at the long list of names. Most of them he recognized as being members of the original club. No surprise, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were the first names on the list. There were however a few new names including; Victoria Frobisher, Jack Sloper, Romilda Vane, Mandy Brocklehurst, Stewart Ackerley, Orla Quirke, and Wayne Hopkins who were new to the D.A. After Ron finished signing, Hermione took the scrolled and stuffed in her backpack.

“So what do you want us to do?” Neville asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

Hermione pulled out two other scrolls from her pack and unrolled them, “This was my plan.”

Two hours later Ron and Hermione watched as the last D.A. member walked out of the Room of Requirement leaving them alone.

“Do you really think that was a good idea, Hermione?”

She shrugged while picking up her backpack. “It was necessary, Ron. You know that.”

Ron held open the door for her to walk through. “Maybe, but I don’t think Harry will be happy when he finds out. I mean...”

“Harry will get over it. Besides, he’ll need all the help he can get when he gets back from wherever he is.”

Back in the hall, Ron watched as the door disappeared into the wall. “What makes you think he’ll be back?”

Hermione walked briskly without looking back, her voice echoing of the walls, “This is Harry we’re talking about. He’ll be back. You can be sure of that.”

“Glad someone thinks so,” he mumbled as he jogged to keep pace with Hermione.

***


It was getting close to midnight and the town of Hogsmeade was quiet as a light rain fell to the ground. There wasn’t much activity during this time of night and what little there was, people usually turned a blind eye to. It was the dark hours when shadowy things happened in the small wizard town. People could come and go as they please, since any decent citizen was too scared to set foot on the streets at night, though it hadn’t always been this way. So it was no surprise when a lone person slipped unseen into a candy shop and then to the cellar below.

Once in the cellar, the man silently opened a concealed hatch and crept down the barely distinguishable stairs into the dark abyss. He quickly picked his way down the rough terrain of the secret tunnel. The man was on a mission and he was determined to complete it.

After what seemed like hours, he noticed the tunnel curving upwards. This meant he was getting close. Then quite unexpectedly, he heard loud voices coming from up ahead. This made him stop cold in the passageway. Someone else was in the tunnel and they were in his way. Panic gripped him. How did anyone know he was here? He was certain he’d slipped into the tunnel unseen, but if he had been seen wouldn’t they be behind him, not in front?

Listening closer, the voices suddenly sounded familiar. Surprised at the turn of events, he crept further down the passage careful not to make any loud noises. Drawing closer to the source of the voices, a smile played across his lips. He then took a long stride and came up behind one of the figures, “Hey guys, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

***


“Hermione, can you please tell me why we’re doing this again?”
“Shhh, quiet, you’ll get us caught.”

“But-” Ron felt a sharp jab in his side that quieted him.

He then noticed Filch’s cat creep out of an open classroom up ahead. The two of them stood still and held their breath beneath the Invisibility Cloak that Harry had left behind at Grimmauld Place. They couldn’t get caught again or they would be expelled for sure this time, and according to Hermione that would mess up their plans. Heaven forbid, Ron thought, rolling his eyes.

Mrs. Norris skulked towards them coming within mere inches from where they were standing. She got down on her haunches and growled in her throat. Ron closed his eyes and waited for the cat to pounce, but it never came. He opened an eye and saw that Mrs. Norris had caught a mouse and was currently holding it down with a paw while nipping at its tail. The mouse was still alive and struggling to get away. It squeaked in desperation. Somehow it managed to wiggle free and scurry to freedom. Mrs. Norris went running to catch her prey. Both animals disappeared into the next corridor.

“Okay, the bloody cat’s gone. Let’s go,” Hermione whispered pulling Ron into motion.

They moved down the hall. Two corridors and a flight of stairs later, they found themselves in front of the familiar witch statue. Hermione whispered the pass code and the witch moved aside revealing a dark opening. Hermione stepped through first.

After they were both safely in the tunnel, Ron demanded, "Now will you tell me where we are going?”

Hermione sighed and continued to walk down the dark passageway. “We’re going to meet a contact at the Hog’s Head. He says he has information about Harry’s whereabouts.”

Ron stopped in shock. Slowly the shock turned to anger. His jaw was clenched tight as he forced his blurred vision back to normal.

Hermione looked back and noticed that Ron was no longer following her. She whirled around and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you coming or not? We don’t have all night. We have to be there by midnight, which is in twenty minutes.”

“When exactly were you going to tell me this?” he hissed.

Hermione shrugged. “I just did. I wanted to tell you earlier but there wasn’t time. I myself didn’t get the note about the meeting until just a few hours ago.”

Hermione's nonchalant attitude toward him made Ron shake violently. He could no longer take it. All of his bottled up rage of the last few months boiled to the surface and exploded, “YOU STILL COULD HAVE TOLD ME!”

Hermione shirked back at the sudden outburst. “Shhh, someone might hear you,” she whispered.

“I DON’T CARE! LET THEM HEAR!”

“Look, I honestly don’t understand why you’re getting upset about this. I told you there wasn’t time.”

“THERE’S NEVER TIME IS THERE? I’M GETTING SO SICK AND TIRED OF YOU BOSSING ME AROUND ALL THE TIME. WHY DON’T YOU EVER TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON? I’M ALWAYS THE LAST PERSON TO KNOW ANYTHING!”

Hermione’s face became red with fury. All concern for getting caught disappeared as her voice rose to meet his, “I DO TELL YOU WHAT’S GOING ON! AND IF I’M BOSSY IT’S BECAUSE I’M TRYING TO GET THINGS DONE IN A TIMELY MATTER!”

“YOU COULD BE A LITTLE NICER ABOUT IT!”

“AND YOU COULD BE MORE HELP!”

“I’D BE MORE HELP IF YOU’D TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON!”

Hermione threw up her hands in disgust. “WHY ARE YOU BEING LIKE THIS?”

“WHY ARE YOU?”

Both glared at each other breathing heavily. The tension that had saturated their relationship for months now hung like a thick cloud in the air. Neither knew what to say next. Each hurt by the other’s words. Ron felt better that he had finally gotten his frustrations out in the open, but he also felt bad because he could see the pain in her eyes.

“Hermione, I’m sorry. I know you miss him.”

“What does that have anything to do with it?” she said indignantly.

“Everything. You’re upset about Harry and so you’re taking it out on everyone around you.”

“I am not! I just… I just…” Tears started to stream down her face. “Oh Ron, when did you get so insightful? You’re usually the clueless one.”

“I might be clueless half the time, but I’m not completely blind, especially since I feel the same way.” Ron held out an arm to her.

Hermione dried her eyes and stepped away from him. “Look, we don’t have time for this. The mission is the only thing that matters.”

“Hermione,” his frustration was starting to come back.

“No, Ron, this can wait. My contact can’t. This may be our only chance to find Harry.”

“Or it could be a trap.”

“It isn’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I am.”

“Hermione,” Ron pleaded with her.

“No, no more talk. Are you coming with me or not?” She tapped her foot impatiently waiting for an answer.

Ron glanced past her shoulder. “Ah, Hermione.”

“Ron, I told you…”

“Hey guys, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Hermione wheeled around to face the voice coming from behind. Once seeing who it was, she started shrieking loudly and propelled herself forward, throwing her arms around the intruder’s neck, “HARRY!”

Harry stepped backwards to keep from getting knocked over by Hermione’s violent embrace. He patted her shoulder. “Nice to see you too, Hermione.”

She pulled back quickly and looked up into his face, “Oh, Harry, we’ve all been so worried about you. Where have you been? Are you okay?”

Harry put up a hand to calm down the excited girl. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, mate, we’ve all been worried sick about you. Is too much to ask to drop a friend a line?” Ron was half joking, but only half.

He was glad to see that his friend was alive and well. But he was also a little upset that Harry hadn’t bothered to get in touch with his two best friends, since pulling a disappearing act on them. He knew Harry probably had a good excuse for doing this, but it still hurt.

“Hey Ron, I’m sorry about that. I-”

“Ah ha! I caught you! Wait until the Headmistress finds out about this. She’ll have you two expelled this time for sure.”

The three friends jumped at the sudden intrusion. They had been so caught up in their own conversation, they had not heard Filch coming up the tunnel. He now stood blocking the way back into the school. Mrs. Norris’ beady eyes reflected menacingly in the lamp light near the old man’s feet.

“So you two are trying to leave the grounds again are you? And in a secret tunnel no less. Exactly how many times have you used it to sneak off? I keep telling the Headmistress you are up to no good, but does she listen? Well, she’ll listen this time and you’ll be expelled for sure. And what are you doing here, Potter? I thought you were dead.” He squinted at the dark haired youth.

“Ahhh… no,” Harry replied sheepishly.

“Too bad, well, let’s go. McGonagall will want to see the lot of you and don’t think about get any fancy ideas about running off either. We’ll finally see some punishment, though I can’t say she’s much better than Dumbledore in that area. She’s much too soft with you lot, and look what happens because of it.”

Harry shrugged and walked past the man. “Part of the reason I’m here is to talk to McGonagall. Let’s go, guys. You’ll want to hear this too.” He motioned to Ron and Hermione.

Moments later, Harry stepped out from behind the witch statue followed closely by the other three. Sounds of clicking heels could be heard coming down the Hogwarts corridor. Seconds later, a mousy brown head followed by a familiar form popped around the corner up ahead.

“Argus, what’s going on? And what is all that noise… Harry?” Tonks eyes widened and her mouth hung open.

“Tonks, good to see you,” Harry said nonchalantly.

“Good to see… wait how… where… what? Of all the places I thought you’d turn up….”

“It’s a long story,” Harry consoled.

“I bet and I’d love to hear it.”

“Let’s go, you’re holding up the punishment,” Flitch growled as he passed.

“Actually, we’re going to see McGonagall right this minute,” Harry explained as he continued down the hallway.

“Right, of course,” Tonks replied as she turned to walk with him.

“Hello, Professor,” Hermione greeted.

“Wotcher, Hermione.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about yesterday’s assignment.”

“Oh?”

The two women continued their conversation, oblivious that Harry had slowed his pace.

Ron took the opportunity and caught up to Harry. “So what are the other reasons?”

“What?” Harry asked looking confused.

“You said earlier that seeing McGonagall wasn’t the only reason you came here. What were the other reasons?”

“Err… well…to see you and Hermione of course. We have a lot to discuss.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Ron snorted.

“Tonks is teaching here?”

“Transfiguration.”

“Oh.”

“So…” a moment of silence passed.

When Harry didn’t continue, Ron spoke up, “What?”

“I know it’s none of my business, but what’s with you two anyway? I’m no expert, but I thought you were doing… err… pretty well?”

“Who?”

“You and Hermione.”

“Oh… well… things have changed since you left. One of them is that Hermione’s been even bossier than usual. And it’s… well… she’s not the easiest person to get along with sometimes.”

“Hermione, bossier than usual, I didn’t think that was possible,” Harry said laughing.

“Don’t laugh. Believe me, it’s possible.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, Ron.”

“Oh yeah, when you find out what she’s been up to you might not think so.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“For starters, guess what organization Hermione decided to start back up, on her own I might add, last week?”

“What?”

“The D.A.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, “What? Why she’d go and do that?”

Ron halted in mid-step, so not to leave his friend behind. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know anything these days. She won’t tell me what’s going on and it’s getting so frustrating. Maybe now that your back she’ll go back to normal, well as normal as she ever gets. I use to think she was mental, now she’s just plain bloody certifiable. There’s no question about it.”

“Have you tried to talk to her about it?”

“We kind of were back in the tunnel.”

“So that’s what you guys were yelling about?”

“Are you two coming or not?” Hermione asked who was now near the end of the corridor with Tonks and Filch.

“Yeah,” Harry started walking again.

“See. What did I tell you? Bossy,” Ron complained shaking his head.

“Come on, we do need to go.”

Ten minutes later, the party of five found themselves waiting in the Headmistress’ office. Filch was the first to enter the room and had shout to the portraits to summon her immediately. They had scoffed at the aged caretaker, but upon seeing Harry several ran from their paintings to fetch the Headmistress.

“Well, I have to say I’m not surprised to see you two back in here,” McGonagall reprimanded Ron and Hermione while descending the stairs from her room. “I am however surprised to see you,” she peered down her crooked nose at Harry taking a seat behind the massive desk.

Harry stood silently as everyone in the room turned toward him. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do, but unfortunately he could tell them very little. He could tell this wouldn’t go over very well with anyone.

“I’m glad to see your okay, Harry. You’ve had all of us worried. We didn’t know what to think when you disappeared, and there was nothing to tell us what had happened to you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to contact anyone to let you know what was going on. I would have it I could, but circumstances wouldn’t allow. I …

Bang!

The door to the office flew open interrupting Harry and causing everyone to jump. A harried Hagrid entered. “Professor, Death Eaters! Death Eaters are in Hogsmeade!”

It was approaching five minutes since Professor McGonagall, Tonks, Filch, and Hagrid had left the room to meet the danger in Hogsmeade. Before leaving, she had sent a message to the Order and the Ministry about the attack on the town. She had also told Ron, Hermione, and Harry to stay put in the office until she returned.

Hermione had taken this to heart and was all too happy to settle herself down in one of the chairs in front of the Headmistress’ desk, all the awhile hoping that her little escapade from earlier would be forgotten in all the chaos. She immediately regretted this and chided herself for thinking such thoughts. Right now while she was sitting safe in this office, people were dying and others fighting for their very lives. Her problems were small in comparison, if not completely irrelevant.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

An annoying noise pulled her from her thoughts. She looked around the office for the source of the sound and saw the culprit not more than a few feet from her. Ron was slouching in the chair next to her and he was currently hitting the base of the Headmistress’ desk with the tip of his trainer.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the repetitive annoyance by examining a stain on her left sleeve. She rubbed at it vigorously hoping it would come off, but it wouldn’t. Whatever it was would require a special stain removing spell. Maybe she could finally put to use the one Mrs. Weasley had taught her over summer break.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Hermione sighed. She couldn’t take it any longer, and didn’t bother to mask her irritability from her voice. “Ron, would you stop that. It’s getting on my nerves.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Either he didn’t hear, or he continued just to spite her. Hermione strongly believed it to be the latter. This only served to fuel her rising temper. Steady, don’t take it out on him just because you’re in a bad mood.

Ron let out a long moan and slouched even further into his chair. “This sucks. I wonder what’s happening?”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Harry replied. He stood up from the wall he was leaning against and briskly walked to the heavy door, flinging it wide open.”

The noise forgotten, Hermione stood up. “But McGonagall told us to stay here.”

Harry ignored her and disappeared down the stairwell without even bothering to look back. His voice rang back through the door, as if taunting her. “You stay, I’m going to help.”

Ron leaped up from his chair and started for the open door.

“Ron, what are you doing?” she yelled in frustration.

“What does it look like? I’m going with Harry,” before she could say anything else, he too vanished leaving her alone in the room.

Hermione stood with a scowl on her face. “Professor McGonagall said to wait here guys.” She crossed her arms expecting them to return. But when a minute passed and they still hadn’t come back she threw up her arms. “Wait up!”

She ran down the stairs, finally catching up with them three corridors later, and breathing rather heavily. “Do we at least have a plan?”

“Yeah, stop the Death Eaters,” Harry had a determined set in his jaw that scared her a bit.

“That sounds good to me!” Ron was only too happy to add.

Hermione snorted at this, “Don’t be silly. We can’t just go out there without some sort of a plan.”

“The plan is to assess the situation, and do what we can to help. Does that satisfy you, Hermione?” There was a hard edge on Harry’s voice.

She was a little taken back by his abrupt behavior but shrugged it off. “The Order and Ministry are capable of dealing with this without our help.”

“Maybe, maybe not… Look, let’s just say I have a bad feeling about this and leave it at that.” He hesitated before continuing, “Maybe, it would be better if you and Ron stayed here. I can handle this myself.”

“No! Don’t listen to Hermione. She’s just being her normal self. You’re not leaving our sight, at least not for a while, we just got you back, mate. And I don’t care what you say, you’ll need our help.”

“Fine, but stay close,” he said this while slipping into the tunnel the three of them had vacated not more than half an hour ago.

Hermione stood just outside the tunnel entrance surprised that they had gotten here so quickly. She was paralyzed in place debating on what to do. Should she follow and get into even more trouble with the Headmistress, or help Harry? It felt like all her hard laid plans of the last few months were spiraling out of control. And that wasn’t the only thing. Since Harry’s abrupt return, Ron was practically ignoring her. Why did he have to act like such a prat, anyways? She obviously wasn’t going to be able to talk Harry out of this and Ron… well he wasn’t exactly listening to her. She finally shrugged and stepped through the entrance. “If I don’t keep them out of trouble, who will?”

She quickly rejoined the other two and fell in behind Ron. Harry moved rapidly through the tunnel leading the three of them pass the spot they had met up with him earlier. It then dawned on her that she had completely forgotten why they were in the tunnel previously, and that maybe the situation in Hogsmeade wasn’t a total coincidence after all. “Ahhh… Harry, I need to tell you something.”

“Hermione, I already told you…”

“No, it’s not about that. It might be important. It’s about why Ron and I were going to Hogsmeade.”

Harry stopped and turned to Hermione. He looked uneasy. “You were going to Hogsmeade? Why?”

“We were going to get information on your whereabouts. I had a contact who knew where you were and…”

“That’s impossible. No one knew where I was, no one except for…” Harry trailed off a distant look in his eyes.

“Everyone except for who?” she asked nervously.

Harry ignored her question. “Who was this contact of yours?”

“I… errr…” For some reason she found herself unable to get the words out of her mouth. Panic started to grip her.

“Hermione, this is important. Who was your contact?”

“I… don’t… I mean… errr… I didn’t exactly get a name, just… just a note.”

“WHAT!” Ron yelled. “I can’t believe this. What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

It felt like she had been punched in the stomach as the air left her. It finally occurred to her the magnitude of the mistake she had made. “I was desperate, okay. This was the first real lead about Harry since his disappearance.”

“I wouldn’t call an unsigned note a lead, sounds more like a trap. Hermione, I can’t believe you would be that reckless,” Harry shook his head. She could see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I call it stupid, that’s what I call it,” Ron huffed.

Tears started to fall down the distraught girl’s face. She was angry at being called stupid, but most of all she was angry because they were both right. How could she be so reckless?”


Harry sighed heavily, “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. Come on, we have to go,” Harry started back up the tunnel.

“I knew it! It was a trap.” Ron threw a dirty look her way before turning to follow Harry.

“We don’t know that, Ron,” she spat at his back, even though she could feel in her heart that he was right. It had been a trap and she was stupid enough to fall for it. Well, almost fall for it. If Harry hadn’t of showed up when he did…

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, Hermione.” The sarcasm dripped from his voice, echoing back along the dark walls.

The hollow resounding of Ron’s voice made the walls seem to close in on her. Slowly, she was able to find her feet and follow the other two, but this time she didn’t bother to try to catch up with them. She finished the trek through the dark tunnel in a daze. Desperate, she tried to find the answers to the questions and doubts running through her head. If she had been so wrong about this, what else had she screwed up? And what had made her miscalculate so badly?

She soon found herself climbing out of the passage and into the Honeyduke’s cellar, surprisingly Ron and Harry where still there.

“Wow, I think we made it in record time,” Ron whispered.

“Let’s just hope we’re in time.” Harry climbed the stairs out of the cellar two at a time.

Hermione followed after Ron, but lagged a little behind, trying to get a barring on her surroundings. She needed to get a grip if she was to go up against a bunch of Death Eaters.

Once upstairs in the candy shop, Hermione had to hide her eyes from the bright flashes of light that were coming from outside. She managed to get closer to a window, and was frozen in shock at what she saw. The street was full of wizards throwing spells at each other. The light from the spells and scattered fires lit up the night sky revealing a mass of people. She had never seen the streets full of so many bodies at once, dead and alive. And from the looks of things, the Death Eaters out numbered the Ministry and Order members four to one. Where did Voldemort get so many recruits? She shivered as she noticed the number of dead bodies littering the street. It suddenly became very clear to her that they may very well lose the battle and the war. To go out there was suicide, “Harry, are you sure…” But her words were drowned out by an explosion. It knocked her to off her feet and into a shelf clear across the store.

“Hermione!” she heard someone yell from far away.

She tried to answer, but no words came out of her mouth and her body refused to move. Slowly, she was able to open her eyes. Bright lights assaulted her senses, overwhelming her. She focused on a particular spot above her head, and watched the pretty lights dance on the ceiling. They swirled around and around making elaborate shapes, watching them made the terrible pain she was feeling ease up a bit, but only a little bit.

“Ron, it looks bad. I knew I shouldn’t have let you guys come. You should get her back to Hogwarts,” that voice sounded so familiar. Why couldn’t she remember who it belonged to?

It didn’t matter, nothing mattered, the only thing that mattered was the red fairy that was currently circling her head, or was it a butterfly? It didn’t matter. It was so beautiful. It swiftly changed to a gold, then green… purple…

“What about you?” Another voice… this one sounded familiar too.

The butterfly, or was it a fairy? Whatever it was it split into two, and then three, and then there where dozens upon dozens of them. They danced and swirled around and around. It was kind of like one of those Muggle rides… what were those things called again… She couldn’t quite remember, oh well… It didn’t matter.

“Don’t worry about me. Just get her out of here.”

“Harry!”

That voice… who…

“Go! That’s an order.”

That was the last thing she heard, as the pretty lights started to dim and a black abyss opened up to swallow her whole.


***


Crash!

Harry and Ron ducked behind the counter to avoid the blast that had just shattered the front of the candy shop. Once the dust had settled Harry quickly glanced around the shop for…

“Hermione!” Ron yelled, as he ran from the only real cover left in the building.

Harry looked to see where Ron was running to and noticed a hand sticking out of a pile of debris along the far wall. Merlin, no! Let her be alright, please.

He joined Ron in rapidly pulling off the wreckage from the girl. They were able to remove most of the debris from around the body, but from the looks of things she was badly injured. She needed a Healer and fast. Harry felt his stomach churn. This was his fault.

“Ron, it looks bad. I knew I shouldn’t have let you guys come. You should get her back to Hogwarts.”

Ron looked up at him. He made no effort to hide the tears flowing down his dirt stained cheeks. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just get her out of here.”

Crack.

“Harry!”

He wheeled around just in time to see a masked man appear behind the three of them. Harry raised his wand and stood between the Death Eater and his friends. “Go! That’s an order!”

The man pulled the mask from his face. “Well, well, it seems that the Boy-Who-Lived is actually alive. My Master will be pleased. He’s been looking forward to killing you himself, but I must admit I would love that pleasure myself.”

What was he doing here? Seeing the man in front of him surprised Harry. Last he had heard the elder Malfoy was still in Azkaban. And from the look of things he may have just come from there. The usual well-kept man wore a black robe that did little to hide the black and white striped clothes that hung loosely to his frame underneath. His usual pale skin was even paler, almost clear, and his hair was a tangled mess framing his sunken face.

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth.

He quickly looked around for anyone else that might be lurking around, but they were alone, well almost. He had to stall for time to allow Ron enough time to get away.

“Nice to see you haven’t forgotten me. I sure haven’t forgotten you. After all, if it hadn’t been for you and your pathetic friends I wouldn’t have spent the last year an a half in that sleazy prison.”

“Glad to hear and see your stay was less than perfect. Though I believe you’re out a little early.”

“Complements of my Master,” he grinned wickedly.

Harry caught Ron out of the corner of his eye levitating Hermione down the cellar stairs and out of sight. He let out a small sigh of relief.

He turned all of his attention to the ragged man in front of him. “I’m surprised he’s willing to give you another chance, since you seem to screw up everything he gives you.”

This seemed to hit a nerve in the older man. “Silence, you brat,” Malfoy raised his wand. “I may not be able to kill you, but I can cause you terrible pain. Prepare to scream, Potter.”

Light came from the end of Malfoy’s wand, but he was prepared. When the light hit it made contact with the half destroyed wall behind Harry. He rolled to the right and threw back his own spell, “Incarcerous!” It missed Malfoy and connected with the only shelf still standing in the store.

Malfoy laughed hysterically among the erupting shards of wood, “You’ll have to do better that that, Potter.”

“Yeah, how about this!” he whispered.

He silently thought the first curse that came to mind. Harry’s spell flew across the room and found its target. The surprised look in Malfoy’s face turned to rage as his legs moved wildly on there own accord. Harry couldn’t help laughing out loud at the ridiculous sight.

“You think that’s funny! Laugh at this,” Malfoy had somehow stopped the spell faster than expected and was steadying himself to fire again.

Harry dove behind a pile of wreckage. Moments later, his cover exploded. Thousands of tiny sharp fragments began to assault him.

“Protego!”

The deadly swarm fell harmlessly away from his protective shield and left him with only minor s scratches.

“Clever, but not clever enough, you will pay for your insolence.”

Spell after spell was sent his way by an enraged Malfoy. Harry dodged, feinted, ducked and fended off each spell thrown his way. Sweat soon began to fall into his eyes, but still he continued to evade and attack. He used everything he had ever learned, especially the things he had learned while he was with Snape, including nonverbal spells. He had to admit that the things he had learned from the man were coming in handy, but he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. The unending storm of spells, were beginning to take its toll on him. How could such a weak and malnourished-looking man have so much energy?

“I see you’ve been doing some training. You know you’re just prolonging the inevitable. Eventually I’ll get the upper hand and you will be mine. You might have learned some new moves, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m the more skilled wizard here. I can already sense that you’re starting to tire. What good is it to know how to fight, if you can’t go the distance?”

“I can take you,” Harry said through clenched teeth.

“I highly doubt that, and even if you could, three is harder to take than one.”

“Ooh, its baby Potter. Maybe you’re not so worthless after all, Lucius.”

Harry slowly turned careful to keep Malfoy in his sight. He saw Bellatrix and Goyle standing several feet behind him.

“I have this, Bella,” Malfoy sneered.

“Really, because it seemed to me that you are having some difficulty in that area. Potter is still armed, is he not? I guess you shouldn’t send a man to do a woman’s job.”

“Really, and here I thought this whole thing was a man’s idea. Snape’s to be exact,” Malfoy goaded.

This got Harry’s attention immediately. He felt like he had been slapped in the face. Snape. The uneasiness he had been feeling seemed to explode inside him. No, there had to be a good reason. Why would he… after everything he had done and said… after he had seen that memory… maybe Snape had finally found a way around an Unbreakable Vow? If anyone could, he would be the one to do it. Merlin knows Snape hated him enough to at least try. Anger ripped through him, anger at Snape, but mostly at himself for being gullible enough to fall for his tricks, again. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. It was just like him to pull something like this. Harry gripped his wand so tight his knuckles turned white.

Bellatrix misunderstood Harry’s anger and laughed. “Oh yes, the very man who killed your precious meddlesome Dumbledore is also the one who arranged for the attack on this horrible little town, and for this loser’s release along with all the others. Though if you ask me, they could have stayed in that filthy place for getting themselves caught in the first place.”

Malfoy sneered at this, “I’m surprised, Bella, this coming from someone who spent the better part of a decade there while some of the smarter of us played dumb and lived quite comfortably.”

“Silence, you fool! Remember your place?” she spat.

“My place?”

“Yes, or don’t you remember the conditions on which you were released and our Lord allowed you to live.”

This was enough to wipe the haughty look on Malfoy’s face and replace it with fear, “I remember,” he hissed.

Bellatrix looked quite pleased with herself for finally getting under Malfoy’s skin, “Good then. Run along and find that son of yours. I’ll take care of little baby Potter.”

At first, it looked like Malfoy might disobey, but in the end he disappeared with a loud Crack.

“Finally, I thought he’d never leave, now it just us. I’m so glad to see that you’re okay. We were worried about you,” she crooned with fake sympathy.

Harry snorted, “Yeah right, more like you were worrying what I was up to.”

“Ahhh… so you have been a bad boy. Go ahead tell Bella everything, because if you don’t I’ll torture it out of you… on second thought… don’t tell me. I would much prefer the torturing you. Crucio!”

Harry tried to duck from the spell, but he was to slow. The fight with Malfoy had slowed him down significantly. He was hit by a blast of incredible, but familiar pain. He tried to resist the urge to scream, as he was hit with what felt like thousands of needles. The needles turned into hot pokers and soon it felt like his insides were being twisted and ripped open. He heard a terrible shrieking sound and realized it was he who was making the noise.

“It hurts doesn’t it and it will only hurt more until you tell me what you’ve been up to.”

And as suddenly as it started, the pain stopped. Curious, Harry opened his eyes. It took him a moment to bring everything into focus, but when he did he was shocked at what he saw. Goyle was out cold, and Bellatrix was thrashing on the ground in the very curse she had just put on him. But the bigger shock was that it was Snape who was standing over her seizing body.

“The Dark Lord was very specific Bella, not to harm the boy. What part of that did you not understand? Maybe next time you won’t act so hastily.”

After a few minutes, Snape eased up on the spell. He stepped over the now unconscious body and advanced toward Harry.

Harry was still hurting from the effects of the spell Bellatix had cast on him, but slowly he was able to crawl to his wand that lay mere inches away from him. His finger touched the tips of his wand only to have it ripped violently from his grasp. He watched helplessly as it flew into the man’s hand that loamed above him.

“Traitor!” Harry spat at him. “I should have never trusted you!”

“Not everything is what it seems, Potter. There is a perfectly good explanation for all of this, but now is not the time or place. We have to get out of here,” Snape bent down to help Harry up.

Harry was waiting for this. As Snape tried to grip his upper arm, Harry rolled away from the man’s grasp and kicked at his legs. Snape was momentarily caught off guard and fell to his knees. And before Snape had a chance to retaliate, Harry threw his fist deep into the older mans’ face. The hit compacted with such a force that blood sprayed everywhere.

Snape reacted to this and twisted his left foot around to make contact with Harry’s side. Harry thought he heard at least one rib crack. Hot fire raced up his side confirming this theory. The distraction was enough to give Snape the upper hand again. He had had enough time to pull out his wand and fire a binding spell. Harry was in too much pain to resist.

Snape knelt over him. A river of blood was dripping from his nose. Harry grinned with satisfaction at his handy work. It was clearly broken.

“Do you always have to do everything the hard way? This is getting old you know,” Snape sneered. “I told you, things are not…”

He was unable to finish, because he fell to the floor in a full body bind. Surprised, Harry looked over the bound body to see Mad-Eye limping towards them.

“Constant vigilance, aye Potter,” he winked at Harry with his good eye.

If he was surprised to see Harry, he did not show it. Instead, he said a counter spell that freed Harry from his binds.

He carefully sat up, wincing in pain as he did so. Mad-Eye must have noticed.

“You hurt?”

“I’ll live,” he groaned.

“Good to hear it. We were beginning to think the opposite.”

“What… what… about the others… Death Eaters…”

Mad-Eye shook his head. “It’s the strangest thing I ever saw. They retreated, even though they clearly had the upper hand. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”

“Maybe they found what they were looking for?” Harry said this as he eyed Snape.

Mad-Eye looked doubtful. “Maybe… maybe…”

“Moody, we need you over here for a minute,” someone called from the street.


“Well, I better go see what’s up. Can you handle him until I get back?” he asked, handing Harry his wand and pocketing Snape’s.

“Yeah sure.”

After Mad-Eye left, Harry got to his feet and stood over the Snape. His anger was barely containable as he looked down at the man with pure hatred.

“Potter… please… believe me…. I never meant you any harm…Har…Harry… please… I….its too complicated to go into now…take… the note from my front pocket. It’s important,” he motioned down to his chest.

Harry didn’t know what caught him more off guard, the fact that Snape had used his proper name, or that the man was pleading for something. It unnerved him, and made him wonder how desperate the man in front of him had to be to do such a thing. It also made him think about Dumbledore and that night that he had died. He had pleaded to Snape too. His hate and anger towards the bound man slowly disappeared. It didn’t matter. Snape would soon get what he deserved.

Harry did notice a sliver of yellow sticking out of the pocket and bent down to take it. He took it more out of curiosity then anything.

“Move aside Potter.” Mad-Eye came limping up to them, leaning rather heavily on his walking stick. “It’s time that this traitor gets what’s coming to him.”

Harry stood back as Mad-Eye pulled out an old sock from his robes and held it out for Snape to touch. Snape mouthed the words. “Go there,” just before he and Mad-Eye disappeared in a flash of light.

Harry stood in a daze wondering if maybe he had dreamed the whole last few minutes up. He looked down at the note in his hands and opened it.

7932 Croxley Avenue Bideford.

Attack on Hogsmeade

The once bustling town of Hogsmeade, lies in ruins this morning after an attack late last night. The wizarding town was brutally raided by an army of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name’s followers. Ministry officials were quick to respond to the distress calls from many of the town’s residents, when Death Eaters began marching through the streets, destroying property, and bursting into homes. The attack came very unexpectedly, and ended only after a long destructive battle.


Rumor has it that some of the Death Eaters at the attack were escapees from Azkaban from that very night (see Azkaban Prisoners Liberated). Fortunately, officials caught the ringleader of the Hogsmeade tragedy and possibly the Azkaban incident, Severus Snape, in the aftermath of the attack.


Severus Snape, ex-Hogwarts professor and known spy for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was responsible for the murder of Albus Dumbledore in June of this year. He will go to trial and is expected to have a lengthy sentence in Azkaban for his crimes. But after the mass breakout from the prison last night, people are starting to wonder if Azkaban is the place for wizarding lawbreakers. Sources report that the inmates were released by a traitor in the Ministry itself. When Minister Scrimgeour was questioned, he denied this and replied that the rumors were unfounded and no one at the Ministry would do such a thing.


No word yet on the total number of casualties from the attack on Hogsmeade, but the number is suspected to be in the hundreds once the final count comes in. The wounded have flooded St. Mungo’s and the nearby infirmary at Hogwarts. The wizarding world has suffered a terrible blow and one can’t help but think what will happen next. The purpose of the attack on the small town is still unknown…



Ron threw the paper aside in disgust. It was the Death Eaters fault. They were the reason Hermione was hurt. He flexed his fingers in and out of a fist as he stood up and paced the hall for the hundredth time. Even still, a pang of guilt riddled him. Part of him blamed himself for what had happened. But mostly he felt guilty for the way he had treated her last night. What if he never got a chance to make it up to Hermione?


“Ron, she’ll be okay,” Harry said from his chair.


He wheeled around. “You don’t know that, Harry. You didn’t see her. She looked…”


“I did see her remember. I was there when it happened,” Harry replied a hard edge on his voice.


Ron’s anger dissolved, and sat down beside his friend. He put his head in his hands. “Do you really think she’ll be all right?”


“Yes, I do. Hermione, she’s tough, tougher than both of us put together. She’ll pull through this.”


Ron sighed. “You’re right, she is tough. It would be nice if someone would tell us what’s going on though.”


He looked at the double doors several feet away hoping that they would open by his sheer will. But they remained closed and Ron felt disappointment seep into his heart. It had been hours since he had brought Hermione to the hospital wing. He remembered running through them with her limp in his arms. Madam Pomfrey had heard his frantic calls for help and had come running. After he had laid her on one of the beds, she had quickly chased him out of the room. The Healer had told him that she would take care of Hermione and for him to wait outside. So he had found a seat in the hall right outside the hospital and waited.


The minutes ticked by as Ron watched person after person come and go through the double doors. It didn’t take long for the traffic to the hospital to increase as wounded from Hogsmeade poured in. Every time the door opened he hoped it was someone with news of Hermione, but no one came.


Somewhere along the line, Harry had shown up. He had taken a seat by Ron without saying a word. The two of them waited together. Ron was glad to have someone to wait with him as the night made way for morning. Sometime during the early hours, Harry had gotten hold of the morning Daily Prophet. After he was finished he had given it to Ron to read, but the news in the paper only served to make his apprehension worse. He didn’t think he could take much more of this.


“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, you can see her now.”


Ron looked up abruptly and saw a rather disheveled Madam Pomfrey holding the door to the hospital wing open. He jumped up out of his seat without a second thought and met the Healer at the door.


“Will she be okay?” he asked anxiously trying to get a glimpse of the room beyond her shoulder.


“Yes, she should make a full recovery within a few weeks. The poor child took a pretty hard blow to the head along with some other minor injuries. It was a good thing you got her here when you did, otherwise it could have been a lot worse. She’s awake and wants to see you, but your visit needs to be short. She needs to rest.” The Healer stepped aside to let the two boys in.


Her gaze fell upon Harry and the many scratches and tears he had on him and in his clothes. “I think I need to take a look at you next, Potter.”


“I’m fine,” Harry grumbled.


“If you’re so fine, then why are you holding your side?” she said with a knowing look.


Ron looked over at his friend and noticed for the first time how rough Harry’s appearance was. He cursed himself for not noticing before. His friend looked like he’d just stepped out of a war zone. Ron snorted. They were in a war, and Hermione had been caught in the middle of it.


“Come along, Potter.”


Harry grudgingly followed after her. Ron trailed behind searching the long row of full beds for that familiar bushy brown head. Her pale face from earlier was still fresh in his memory haunting him. And the blood, there had been so much blood. He wasn’t even sure where it had all come from. He did remember seeing a deep gash along her temple. Ron shivered. At least she was okay. She has to be. He stopped when he finally saw her near the back of the room, Hermione.


She looked even paler than he remembered. The long red wound on her temple looked even redder as it stood out against her almost clear complexion. She looked so fragile, so broken. He saw her head move slightly and then heard a barely audible voice say his name, “Ron.”


That was all it took to propel him forward to the girl’s side. He knelt down near the edge of the bed and lightly kissed the top of her head. Ron took her cold hand in his, “How are you doing, my darling?”


“I’ve been better,” she whispered.


Ron gently caressed her cheek. “Madam Pomfrey says that you’ll make a full recovery.”


“Mmm…Ron?”


“Yes.”


“Thank you.”


He was a little taken back by this. “For what?”


“Madam Pomfrey told me that if you hadn’t brought me here when you did that I might of… well…”


Ron rushed to cut her off. He didn’t want to think of what could have happened. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easy, did you?”


Hermione laughed quietly, but her laugh made her body shake in pain.


Ron was alarmed by this, but hid it as he tried to calm her down, “Shhh, don’t laugh and I promise I won’t tell any more silly jokes.”


“Deal,” she gasped. Soon she was calm enough to continue, “Ron, I’m so sorry for everything. I’ve been acting like a world class git lately.”


He shook his head. “No, don’t worry about it. And you’re not the only one whose been acting like a git. I haven’t been nearly as understanding to you as I should have been. Harry’s disappearance was hard on us both. I didn’t realize how bad, until he came back.”


“I know,” she sighed and closed her eyes.


Ron’s heart caught in his throat as he gazed at the girl before him. He shouldn’t have let this happen to her. This was his fault, if only he had listened to her in the first place. “I have an idea.”


“What?”


“How about we start over and forget the last few months even happened. We start fresh and new.”


Hermione smiled weakly. “It’s not your fault, you know? It’s mine, but it doesn’t matter whose fault it was. I’d rather move on. And a fresh starts sounds good to me.”


Ron blushed slightly that she knew his thoughts. He leaned down and kissed her hiding his face in the process. He pulled away after a few moments happier than he’d been in a long while.


“Ron… Harry. Is he okay?”


“He got banged up a little, but I think he’ll be all right. Madam Pomfrey is looking at him now.”


“And finished,” Harry said coming up to them with a lopsided grin on his face.


“Wow, that was quick,” Ron turned to greet his friend.


Harry walked to the opposite side of Hermione’s bed and sat down in a chair. “Yeah, it looks worse than it is. I just had a few cuts and scrapes. Oh, and a couple of cracked ribs, but she gave me a tonic for it.” He gave Hermione a meaningful look before continuing, “Good to see you’re doing all right.”


She smiled back, “Yeah, you too. So cracked ribs, I’m surprised she isn’t making you stay here.”


“She wanted to, but there aren’t any beds left. Made me promise to go straight to bed and rest up.”


“Ah, Harry, you don’t have a bed here,” Ron pointed out.


“Actually, I do. It looks like McGonagall has already set up one for me with you and the rest of the guys.”


“Then I guess you’ll be sticking around for a while after all,” Hermione teased.


“Looks like.” He winked.


“Here comes Madam Pomfrey,” Ron said, catching her scurrying over out of the corner of his eye.


Harry stood up. “Well, I think that’s my cue to leave. I’ll see you two later.”


Hermione watched Harry quickly exit the room. “Some things never change.”


“And some things do.” Ron bent down to kiss her again.




***




“Harry!”


He turned as he closed the door to the hospital wing. He was just in time to see a blur and feel a heavy weight wrap itself around his neck. “Ginny,” he said softly into her ear as he embraced her.


Pain shot through his side, but he pushed it away without a thought, as he stood enjoying the much longed for reunion. Several long minutes later he gently pulled back and looked into her eyes. He gasped at their intensity. Harry had almost forgotten how much he’d missed her. He had tried so hard to push her from his mind. It was the only way he could concentrate on what had to be done. Now that he was standing within arms length of her, there was no denying how strongly he felt for the red head in front of him. His heart soared with joy at seeing her again.


“Oh Harry, I was so worried about you. I thought…”


“It’s okay. I’m here now.” He pulled her back into his embrace, “I missed you so much, Ginny.”


“I missed you, too.” This time Ginny was the one to pull away. She had a stern look on her face as she continued, “Don’t ever do that to me again you overgrown dingbat,” she emphasized this by punching him playfully in the chest.


Harry didn’t have to feign a look of pain as his side flared up again, “Ouch, that hurt,” he said trying to sound playful as well.


“Oh really, well you haven’t seen anything yet,” she winked and pulled him away from the gawking first years standing nearby.


Before he could say anything, Ginny was dragging him down the hall. They turned a corner and headed for a door nearby. She opened it up and pulled Harry in after her. He entered the small closet and tripped over a stack of cauldrons sending them clattering loudly to the floor.


“Shhh…” Ginny whispered, laughing.


Harry grimaced in pain again, but turned his head to hide it from her, “Err… Ginny. What are we doing in here?”


“We’re getting away from prying eyes, that’s what.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.


Harry didn’t think this was a good idea, but the warmth of her body and soft lips were making it hard for him to pull away from her. Instead, he immersed himself in the moment and let everything else slip away. Nothing else mattered except for this. Time stood still.


“I thought I saw them going this way.”


The voice from the hallway penetrated Harry’s senses and brought him back to reality. He reluctantly tore himself away from Ginny. She wasn’t happy about this and grabbed for him.


“Ginny, no.”


She pouted, “Harry…”


“No, we can’t. Not like this,” he looked down and noticed his shirt was half off. Several large bruises peppered his torso.


He quickly buttoned it before Ginny could see them while trying to remember how it had come undone in the first place. Once finished, he glanced at Ginny who was grudgingly redressing herself. Harry looked away embarrassed.


“So, what now?” Ginny asked.


It was clear to Harry from the sound of her voice that she was angry. He could still feel her warmth as it slowly dissipated from him and wondered if he had done the right thing. He then thought of Ron, her other brothers, and father and realized that he did indeed do the right thing.


“Err… how about we go for a walk. Actually there are some things that I wanted to tell you.”


This seemed to get Ginny’s attention, because her hostile attitude dimmed a little, “Oh… what about?”


“Come on.”


He opened the door a crack and peeked out. Once he was sure the hallway was clear, he stepped out with Ginny close behind.


They walked hand in hand through the castle, avoiding as many people as possible. Harry didn’t care to be stared at. If the staring was bad before, it was sure to be worse now that he presumably returned from the dead. He needed to go somewhere he knew they wouldn’t be interrupted.


Soon Harry found himself outside a familiar blank wall. He imagined a quite peaceful spot and walked back and forth three times. A door appeared before him and the two of them entered. Inside, the room was exactly what he’d imagined. It was small and cozy with a large sofa near a crackling fireplace. He led Ginny to it and sat down beside her.


Harry rested there for a moment, not sure what to say, or how to begin. He watched the fire in front of him as the flames licked on a partially burnt log. A flashback of Dumbledore’s memory at the Gaunt house rushed at him sending a shiver through his body.


“Harry, is everything okay?”


He felt a soft touch on his knee. Warmth spread through him making the dark memory a little more bearable, but he still wasn’t sure what he should tell her. He wanted to tell her everything, but he wasn’t sure she could handle it. He felt the weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders at that particular moment.


“Harry, I know something is brothering you. I also know it has to do with why you disappeared. I’ve been trying to be patient, but I need to know what’s going on, please. Maybe I can help?”


He looked up from the hypnotic frolic of the flames and into her pleading brown eyes. His heart did a flip at seeing them. He couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. He couldn’t help but feel at peace, as his burden was lifted ever so slightly.


“What happened? Did they do something to you?”


“No.”


“So…”


“I was in hiding to do some training.”


Confusion darkened her face. “What? I don’t understand. Hogsmeade, when you disappeared… they said there was an attack… a fight.”


“Yes, there was”


“Who… What happened?”


He sighed and looked back at the fire. How much should he tell her? The weight settled back down again, this time it stayed.


“Harry, please, I need to know… I need to know w-w-why you couldn’t let me know that you were all right… all you had to do was send a note… a sign… anything… don’t you know how worried I was…” her words were drowned out by sobs.


Harry turned to see the girl beside him break down crying. He felt a pang of guilt tear through him and gathered her into his arms. He sat there holding and stroking her hair, as she let the pain and anguish from the last few months soak his shirt. After a long while, the tears stopped coming, but she didn’t move from were she was. Harry leaned down and kissed the top of her head.


“I’m sorry, Ginny. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”


Before he knew what was happening, Ginny quickly drew away from him. “Then why? Why Harry? Why did you?” Anger flashed in her red-rimmed eyes.


“Ginny… I… it’s complicated.”


“So uncomplicate it then.” Her glare made him feel increasingly uncomfortable.


Silence hung between them as Harry desperately tried to figure out how to get himself out of this without telling her the whole truth. He didn’t know why, but he felt it necessary to kept Snape’s involvement a secret, especially after what had transpired in Hogsmeade a couple of hours ago.


“I… err…”


“You’re not going to tell me are you?”


“No-yes… maybe… I… Ginny…I just… things are complicated…and… I want to tell you. I really do… it’s just…”


“So, I’m not important enough. Is that it?”


“I didn’t say that, of course you’re important to me,” he pleaded with her.


“If that was the case, then you would have found some way of telling me that you were okay. You wouldn’t have left me in the dark wondering, and hoping that the Order wouldn’t tell me that they had found you dead somewhere. I had thought… we all thought… that Voldemort had… had… gotten you.”


“He didn’t and I’m fine.”


“Yeah, I know that now.” Ginny stood up.


“Where are you going?”


“When you’re ready to tell me the truth, then maybe we can talk, until then I really don’t think there is anything to say.” She turned around and walked towards the door.


Harry jumped up from the sofa, “Ginny, wait!”


She stopped, but stood without turning around.


“I… I really am sorry. You have to believe that.”


“I do, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s too hard,” she said quietly before walking out the door and leaving Harry alone to listen to the crackling of the dying fire.



***


Hermione had been drifting in and out of sleep for a while now. Her splitting headache made it difficult to sleep soundly. The potion Madam Pomfrey had given her earlier had helped, but it was now starting to ware off. She turned her head slightly and eyed the half empty bottle on the table beside her.


She tried to move her hand to grab it, but nothing happened. She tried again, this time her hand moved slightly. Merlin, this will take forever. Several long straining minutes later, her fingers were able to brush the bottle, but it was still too far away to grab a hold of. She sighed and settled back down on her pillow. Drat! She’d just have to wait until someone came by to check up on her.


Suddenly, Hermione heard a door open nearby and voices floated through the cloth partition between her and the rest of the room. She started to speak up and ask for help, but something made her stop. To be more exact a certain word made her stop.


“Remus…”


Curious, she strained to hear more.


“…will show… excuse… why he’s been away...”


“…right… but doesn’t know about… baby.”
“Dear, no one knows… baby.”


“…rather keep it that way… a while…”


“…can’t hide… forever…”
“Remus and myself… to tell… one… sounds silly.”


“…not silly… does… Headmistress?”


“… she … no one else.”


“…secret… safe... dear.”


“Thank… next week.”


“Remember, drink…ease… sickness.”


Hermione quickly closed her eyes as she heard someone pass by her bed. The clicking heels continued until they disappeared out of the hospital wing door, the potion on the table long forgotten.

Darkness enwrapped a black figure, as he bore down on a frantic red-headed woman. “Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry…”




He was repulsed by the pathetic display of weakness, and let the distain he felt drip into his voice, “Move aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…”




“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-” The only response was silence as the man closed in on the woman.




“Not Harry! Please… have mercy…”




He trembled in sheer ecstasy as he stood over her. Utter joy surging up his spine. There was nothing like the thrill of taking a life. With one flick of his wand the woman screamed and fell limp to the floor. He let out a laugh of victory before turning his attention to a small boy in a crib. The mother’s sacrifice would be for nothing. Now came the easy part. It was almost a shame it had all been so simple. Now he would truly be victorious, just one more kill and that victory would be his.




He aimed at the child and thought of those two familiar words: Avada Kedavra. A green flash lit up the room and an ear splitting scream sounded. The man was surprised and astonished that it was his own voice that echoed off the bedroom walls. The deafening noise continued to echo as the crib and tiny room melted away to blackness. Then slowly the darkness fell away revealing another room.




The same dark man from before now stood in a sparse and dingy sitting room. His red eyes glowering at the other cloaked occupants in the room, while a figure trembled in pain on the floor at his feet. “This is unacceptable!” he screamed in a fit of rage.




A woman stepped forward from the group with an air of confidence that the others lacked. He smiled at this and saddled his rage. He was curious to see what she so confident about, so that he could stripe it from her. “My Lord, if it pleases you I shall bring him before you myself. Severus has proven his failure in this and allowed himself to be captured in the process. I would never allow such a thing to happen.”




Her unsympathetic attitude toward her colleague was applaudable. It pleased him to see his minions fight among themselves so ruthlessly. Competition always brings the best and worst out of people, and the results usually were very beneficial to him. He addressed her coolly, not at the least surprised by her offer. “No, not yet. We have other things to attend to, an invasion to plan for. I have other plans for Potter.”




The woman hesitated before continuing, “Sir, as you know the breakout from Azkaban has given our inside man at the Ministry too much attention. And we haven’t fully recuperated from the attack on Hogsmeade.”




He glared at the woman, his patience wearing thin. “Do you question me?” He lifted his wand and pointed it at her chest.




Bella bowed in reverence as her confident composure faded somewhat. She obviously did not want to join the still convulsing form on the floor. “No-no, my Lord,”




“Good.” He lowered his arm. “Tell the others we strike on schedule.”




“Y-y-yes, sir. Shall we use the weapon…”




He held up his hand to silence her and turned around slowly. His red eyes stared right at Harry, noticing him for the first time.






Harry sat straight up in bed panting and shaking uncontrollably. His head felt like it had been cracked wide open. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them waiting for the throbbing and overwhelming desire to hurl to subside.




There was no denying it this time. He had been inside Voldemort’s mind. Why, why now? Didn’t Dumbledore say this shouldn’t be happening any more? And why was he having that nightmare of when his mother died again? The last few seconds of her life and that terrible night kept playing over and over again almost every night for months. It was getting to the point where he was afraid to even close his eyes.




Now that he was delving back into Voldemort’s mind there was even more reason to be concerned. Harry ran a shaking hand through his hair. This had to stop. At this rate Voldemort won’t have to kill him, he’d just had to wait for Harry to get exhausted enough to make a big mistake. Get a hold of yourself.




The thing that disturbed him the most was how the dream had happened. It was like he was experiencing everything through Voldemort’s eyes, even his mother’s death. He shivered uncontrollably as he desperately tried to forget the murderous thoughts he had had toward his mother.




Several long minutes passed before he was calm enough to carefully pull himself out of bed and find his way to the washroom. Once inside, he stuck his head underneath the sink faucet and drenched his head in cold water. The icy liquid felt good against his aching head and the agonizing throbbing settled to a manageable pang.




Harry stood up and turned the water off. His disheveled appearance in the mirror just above the sink caught his attention. The pasty white of his skin was a dramatic contrast to the mop sitting on top of his head. His black hair was messier than usual as it stuck up in every direction, but this didn’t bother him as much as his red rimmed eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in months, which was true, but seeing the physical evidence made it seem more real. He really needed to get a good night’s sleep. He had almost forgotten what it was like.




Harry turned from his disturbing appearance and walked back to his room. On his way back he noticed the lack of people in the hallway and realized he had overslept. He raced into the empty bedroom and pulled off his sweaty night clothes. Finding some clothes in his trunck, he quickly dressed. While doing this, his mind raced with a thousand different thoughts. He wasn’t keen on delving back into the memories of his dream, so instead he focused on the last three weeks since returning to Hogwarts.




He had mixed feelings about returning to the school, especially since he and Ginny weren’t speaking now. He definitely could have handled things better with her, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what he would have done differently. The simple fact was he felt they were both better off not being together, at least until he was rid of Voldemort once and for all. He knew he would never have any kind of a normal life with Voldemort trying to kill him, and Harry just didn’t feel right getting Ginny involved. He didn’t want to see her get hurt. The obvious rift between the two of them, however, left him feeling depressed and lonely.




But on the upside, Ron and Hermione seemed to be doing better. Ron spent every single moment he wasn’t in class or sleeping, by her bedside when she was in the hospital. And once she was released, he still followed Hermione around everywhere she went. Some people might say that it was no different than before, but Harry knew better. He knew that Ron didn’t mind being at the girl’s beck and call now, in fact Harry suspected that he rather enjoyed it. Harry simply laughed at the strange turn of events.




It amazed him how people’s priorities seem to change when bad things happened. It’s like they wake up from a deep sleep and really see the world around them for the first time. They realize what’s important to them and what doesn’t really matter at all.




As for himself, Harry had been in a flurry of activity trying to catch up on the last few months’ worth of classes. And somehow he still had to find time to search for the rest of the missing Horcruxes. Harry never had had any intention of going back to school, but after a long and heated conversation with McGonagall and a few Order members, Harry decided to humor them. After all, they did have some very valid points. The point of having more education to help him in his quest was probably the biggest determining factor for him.




Harry had to admit that even with everything he knew, he still was far from where he needed to be to go up against Voldemort and his followers. Snape’s instruction had helped immensely, but with him now in custody Harry didn’t see their classes resuming. And he didn’t feel totally confident in his own abilities to continue his studies alone. He felt like something vital was still missing, some ancient wisdom untapped.




So Harry agreed to start taking classes and receive extra tutoring on the side to help catch him up to the other students. He did this with several conditions. The first was that his quest, which he refused to reveal to any of them even though they asked repeatedly, was top priority and that school came second. Also, as long as he cleared it with McGonagall first, he would be able to leave the school grounds when necessary so that he could track down leads for his “project”, the Order members started calling it that to make things simple. Third, he insisted that he needed the help of Ron and Hermione, so they were to be given the same leniency as he was.




McGonagall was reluctant to give in to his demands, but quickly realized it was the only way he would remain at Hogwarts. Harry wasn’t sure why it was so important to her for him to stay at the castle. Maybe it had something to do with his disappearance? From what he could tell, she and all the Order members were very concerned about him and wanted Harry in a place that they could keep an eye on him. He smiled at this and kept his mouth shut. Harry wondered what they would say if they found out he had spent the last several months in the company of a murderer, best not to bring that up. Instead he told them he that his disappearance was crucial for what he was doing for his “project” and because of that he couldn’t let them in on the details. This mostly worked for everyone except for Hermione. Somehow she knew that there was something he wasn’t telling her, but for now had not pressed the issue.




As for the continuing search, there had been no new leads even with the help of Ron and Hermione. They had, however, found a possible way to destroy the locket. This was where Harry was supposed to be on an early Saturday morning. The potion should have finished by now and he was late.




Harry ran down the stairs and through the portrait hole, almost knocking into a group of second years talking in the hall right outside.




“Sorry,” he yelled over his shoulder without stopping.




He continued running down the school halls at a mad dash ignoring the yells to slow down from some of the students he passed. Panting he reached his destination and opened the door. He walked into the Room of Requirement, which was currently set up as a study and potion mixing room. Harry joined the two forms bent over a large black cauldron in the middle of the room.




“You’re late,” Hermione scolded, without looking up from the bubbling pot she was carefully stirring.




“Sorry, alarm didn’t go off,” Harry lied. He wasn’t about to tell her that the visions where back, at least not yet.




“Is it ready?” he asked anxiously, as he edged to Ron’s side.




“Almost,” Hermione answered. She sprinkled something into the steaming potion and changed the direction she was stirring to counter clockwise. Five turns later, she stopped and made a funny face. “This smells like old socks.”




“Who cares as long as it works,” Ron said.




Hermione held out her hand to Harry. “You have it?”




He hesitated then slowly unclasped the locket from around his neck. He held it in his hand caressing the large “S” engraved on the front. “This is for Dumbledore.” He held it out for Hermione to take.




“All right, everyone stand back. This might get messy.” Once Harry and Ron were standing a respectable distance from the pot, she dropped the locket in and quickly backed away, joining the other two.




They all watched the pot anxiously for several long minutes, but nothing seemed to be happening. Harry was starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew there was no guarantee that this would work, but they had been so sure they were on the right track, or should he say that Hermione thought they were. She had been the one to figure it out. It had been so simple really, and Harry had felt a little silly that the idea hadn’t occurred to him.




It was almost a week ago now when the idea first came up. Hermione had still been in the hospital. This fact didn’t bother her as much as it normally would, because it gave her extra time to do some research. Harry and Ron had kept her in a steady supply of books and parchment, as they met to discuss the Horcrux search. They were able to hold their meetings without anyone close by hearing, because Harry would cast the Muffliato spell, despite Hermione’s disapproval. The breakthrough had come by way of Dumbledore’s Pensieve.




Harry had gone back the day after the attack to the place he had stayed with Snape. Once there he retrieved his possessions, the Pensieve, and box of memories. Upon returning, he had shown the Pensieve to Ron and Hermione. Both were very excited to see it and even more excited to view the memories. It didn’t take them long to catch up to Harry, who had already viewed the first nine vials (actually eight, since one had broken). Hermione was especially interested with Dumbledore’s visit to the Gaunt house, but didn’t reveal why right away. It was well into her second week in the hospital and after tons of research until she told them her suspicions.




She believed that it could be as easy as finding the right potion to destroy the locket Horcrux. Hermione based this theory on the way that the diary and ring Horcruxes had been destroyed. Each way was done very differently, but both ways were just as effective. So what was the deeming factor that destroyed these objects? Could they each not be destroyed in the same way? Or was it the object that contained each Horcrux that determined how it was destroyed? This might be why Voldemort had chosen to hide the Horcruxes in objects that were very different from each other. The key would be to find what would destroy the object, because the Horcrux itself could not be destroyed. Since a soul can’t exist unless contained, it would be come lost once the vessel was destroyed. Everything in Hermione’s research had pointed to that fact, what little she found.




So they had to find away to break the object. Normally this could be done by any standard means, but the objects Voldemort had chosen to use as vessels were special. He knew that breaking the object would eject the soul and destroyed it. So he put unbreakable spells upon each of the objects once turning them into Horcruxes. This would render the objects durable against almost anything. But not everything, as Harry and Dumbledore had demonstrated in destroying the diary and ring. This put Hermione on the track of finding ways of breaking unbreakable spells.




This wasn’t easy considering unbreakable spells were meant to be just that, unbreakable. But an enormous amount of research later, she found this to be untrue. Unbreakable spells are meant to withstand everyday occurrences, but not something real destructive, such as poisonous venom, a mystical fire that burns so hot it causes a gemstone to crack, or a potion that can melt metal. Thanks to the Half-Blood Prince’s Potions book, they were able to find just such a potion to Hermione’s displeasure.




Harry had suggested melting it with fire like Dumbledore had done with the ring, so they wouldn’t have to use the book. But Hermione shot this down for several reasons. One, because the skill to produce a hot enough fire to even melt metal was immense, and two she politely pointed out that despite Dumbledore’s power he had burnt his arm in the process. Destroying the locket with a potion would hopefully not be as destructive to their persons. Thankfully, melting metal was easier than cracking a gemstone. So they had decided to try the potion first.




They went to work gathering the ingredients needed for the potion, which Ron had stolen the rarer ingredients from Professor Slughorn’s personal stash while Harry distracted the man by agreeing to go to the next Slug meeting- the sacrifice’s one had to make for the cause. Because of its complexity, it took them nearly a full week to put it together and brew.




Now the three watched in waning hope at the bubbling red liquid. According to the Prince’s book, the red potion would turn brown once the metal had been melted down. The concoction was still a deep red well after five minutes.




“I don’t think it’s working,” Ron whispered, afraid to say it too loudly.




Hermione sighed, “It was a long shot anyways.”




“What do-” but Harry was cut off, as he heard a loud hissing noise come from the suddenly rocking cauldron.




The churning liquid bubbled and erupted violently, sending potion spraying in every direction. The trio jumped back from the concoction, barely missing the flying hot fluid. The crimson brew swirled and surged until it seemed the cauldron would crack from the frenzy. And then as sudden as it had begun the steaming potion began to settle, as it did the color slowly darken until it was a muddy brown. They each moved as one toward the cauldron and were stopped by a deafening crack. Before they knew what was happening, they found themselves drenched in brown goo. The cauldron and its contents had exploded and settled over the entire room.




“Gross,” Ron whined as he held out his arms looking at the brown sludge all over them and the rest of his body.




Harry pulled his glasses from his face and crinkled up his nose, “This stuff stinks and burns.”




He looked down to see a brown patch of liquid bubbling on his arm. Harry smelt his own flesh begin to burn. He reacted quickly and cast a cleaning spell on himself. He turned to help Ron and Hermione, but saw that they were already casting their own spells. Within moments, the three of them were no longer wearing the brown potion.




“How do we know if it worked?” Ron asked rubbing a spot on his hand that was starting to blister from where the potion had landed.




“Well, I guess we clean up and see if we find a locket lying anywhere.”




They each then took a section of the room and searched every inch of it while casting cleaning spells. An hour later, the room was spotless and no one had found even a hint of gold anywhere.




“I guess that settles it. The locket is officially destroyed, even if we had to endure a little physical pain to do so,” Ron said, grinning from ear to ear, a large welt on his left cheek.




Harry couldn’t help but smile himself. It seemed the weight he had been carrying around on his shoulders had lessened somewhat. He couldn’t help but feel a little excitement course through him. The excitement was short lived however when he thought about the other Horcruxes still out there waiting to be found. Time was running out, he could feel it.




“Three down, four to go,” Harry said.




“Actually only three, if you don’t count Voldemort himself,” Hermione replied.




“I do, in fact he’ll be the hardest one to of them all. We need to work faster than this. Time is running out,” Harry paced the floor.




“We’re working as fast as we can, Harry. You know that, and if you stop pacing, I’ll let you in on an idea I had,” Hermione said.




This made Harry stop and look at the girl, “Oh?”




“You know I was thinking about that time when Voldemort visited Hogwarts trying to get a teacher position. It seemed to me that the whole reason for that visit wasn’t actually the job, but that it allowed him access to Hogwarts itself.”




“Yeah, I already figured that much, what of it?” Harry said.




“Well, ask yourself. If Voldemort wanted access to Hogwarts, what would it be for and where would he go?”




“I always assumed it was to hide a Horcrux,” Harry replied.




“That maybe true, but you haven’t answered the second part of the question. Where would Voldemort hide it so that no one would find or stumble across it?”




Harry thought about it for a minute and then slapped himself on the forehead. How could he be so stupid, of course that’s were he would go. It would be the perfect hiding place, because no one had access to it, at least Voldemort didn’t think so at the time.




“The Chamber of Secrets,” Harry said out loud.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head and carefully crept down the stairs into the crowded common room below. It was half past midnight, and the Gryffindor Halloween party was still in full swing. Harry had hoped the party would have been over by now, but when it showed no sign of slowing down, he decided to make a night of it. Well, that was what he had told the others. In reality, he was itching to check out the address that Snape had given him just before he was captured. It had been three weeks since then, but he had been so busy, Harry had all but forgotten the slip of paper. He had stumbled across it a few days ago when sifting through his trunk, since then he had tried to find a good time to slip away unnoticed, now seemed as good as anytime to do just that.


Harry knew he should have told Hermione and Ron that he was leaving. He did, after all, agree to bring them along if he left the school grounds in his quest, but this trip wasn’t about the Horcruxes. So he didn’t feel quite as bad about leaving without them, though he knew he’d catch an earful from Hermione when he got back. He did, however, send McGonagall a note telling her that he was leaving the school grounds.


It didn’t take Harry long to navigate his way out of Hogwarts. As soon as he was able, he Apparated and found himself standing in a dark and unfamiliar place. The smell of sawdust and paint thinner assaulted his nose. Harry lit his wand and held it high above his head trying to pierce the fog that hung heavily in the air. He noticed that he had landed right in the middle of a sea of boats that reached as far as he could see each in various stages of construction. His destination must have been off a little, because he was supposed to have apparated near the Torridge River. He had done some research on the tiny town the day before and knew that the address he was looking for could be found on the waterfront.


Harry carefully maneuvered around the boat yard, but even using his wand for light, it was difficult to see his way in the soupy mist. Once outside the gate, he saw a path leading to a string of yellow floating orbs in the distance. The sound of a ferry’s horn coming from that direction was enough of a sign for Harry to venture toward the lights. As he got closer, he realized that the orbs were in fact a string of lampposts following along the bank of the river. The yellow light reflected off a narrow street that rested beneath them. Taking a guess, he turned left and walked along the road, reading the street signs as he passed.


As he walked, a sharp wind tussled Harry’s already messy hair, making him pull his cloak tighter. He stuck his half frozen hands deep into his pockets and shivered. The cold night air was starting to chill him to the bone, but he shook it off. He was determined to continue. The cold reminded Harry of his venture into the Chamber of Secrets two days ago. The place had been down right chilly. Strange he had not remembered it being that bad when he went there in his second year.


If the trip down the memory lane hadn’t been bad enough, the disappointment at not finding any traces of the Horcruxes was even worse. He had been so sure that they would find something down there, but after nearly five hours of searching the only thing they had found was a rotting corpse of the Basilisk he had killed years earlier and a massive amount of debris from the cave in.


Something about the whole thing, however, just didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t quite figure out what exactly. Everything had seemed like he had left it before, but there was still something that he felt he was missing, and the more he though about it the more certain he became. He’d have to make a point to go back there. This thought sent another chill down his spine.


Though no matter how bad he had felt about it, Hermione had taken their fruitless search to the Chamber worse than Harry. She had spent most of the last two days in the library throwing herself into a fervor of research, only to come out for classes and some meals. Ron had tried to cheer her up, but everything he said only seemed to make it worse, so he quit trying. Then, he got the bright idea of inviting her to the Gryffindor Halloween party. The last Harry saw of them they were sneaking out of the portrait hole giggling and going off to who knew where. How Ron had managed to peel Hermione away from her books was beyond him.


Harry smiled to himself as he checked the next street sign, Gordon Lane. The houses where getting further apart. Soon he would run out of streets. He had to be getting closer. Five street signs later, revealed Croxley Avenue. Harry turned onto the road and saw three houses lining the circular street. He came up to the first house, 7930. He passed the second house, 7931 and went straight to the third, 7933. Where was 7932? Suddenly, right before his eyes, another house sprang into view pushing its way into existence between 7931 and 7933. This was it. This was the place Snape had told him to go.


The obvious use of the Fidelius Charm sent off a warning bell in his head. Whatever was in that house was important, important enough to hide, but from who? He still couldn’t understand why he was here, but he had to know. He had to know why Snape wanted him here. Harry’s curiosity propelled him past the waist high gate and down the front path, all the while knowing that it could be a trap. He lifted his arm to ring the door bell when the door in front of him was jerked open violently. Harry wasn’t sure what he had expected, but nothing could have prepared him for who stood just beyond the threshold.




***




I’m sure you have already heard that I am no longer in Azkaban. Meet me tonight at midnight. You know the place. We have much to discuss. I will be there until sunrise. Do not disappoint me.




Draco Malfoy reread the letter for the fifth time, trying to make sense of it. It had been months since he had last heard from his father. It had been at Hogwarts before that whole fiasco with Dumbledore had happened. He remembered receiving a letter from his father telling him how proud he was of Draco for taking the Dark Lord’s mark, but not in so many words because the prison guards read all outgoing and incoming mail. The Malfoy family had worked out a coded system they could use to talk freely in their letters.


Draco absentmindedly stroked the still sore spot on his arm where the mark rested. Snape had given him a potion to help dull the pain. Ever since he had gone into hiding, Voldemort had used the connection to cause him great pain and discomfort. Obviously it was his way of trying to draw Draco out and punish him at the same time.


In some ways, he wished he could go back and change what had happened that fateful night. He wasn’t sure what he would have done differently, but anything would be better than this. He was tired of being cooped up in this house, but Snape had made it clear to him that if he so much as set a foot outside the protected walls, Voldemort would find him. So he stayed, but he wasn’t happy about it.


The note he had received from his father only made things worse. After months in prison, he had finely gotten out and he wanted to meet Draco. How could he say no to his father?


“If you want to survive, you have to do exactly as I say, or the Dark Lord will find you and kill you,” Snape had yelled at him more than once.


But that had been before, before his father had gotten out of Azkaban. Things were different now. His father might need his help. No doubt the Ministry officials were looking for him, and the Malfoy family wasn’t exactly on the Dark Lord’s good side these days. What if he’s in trouble and needs my help?


“Do not trust anyone and do not leave this house.” Draco shook as he remembered the harsh tone in Snape’s voice. He was used to the man’s abrupt behavior, but something in his voice struck fear into him. This was serious and his life depended on how he followed this man’s orders. He had saved his life, after all, so why not trust him.


Draco shook his head and paced the floor tapping the note in his left palm. Why did he even care what Snape thought or said? This was his father. Snape would understand and even if he didn’t, who cares. It wasn’t like he was even around. According to The Daily Prophet, he was stuck in some windowless room on a remote island. Maybe he even had the same cell that his father had occupied.


Snape’s words rang once again in his ears, “I will come back to check on you, but you can not leave this house!”


Draco scoffed. Come back? Yeah right. What am I to do now? He couldn’t stay in this house indefinitely. He only had enough supplies to last another month, tops. So what was an empty promise going to do him then? Nothing, absolutely not a thing, was what it would do.


Do not disappoint me.


His father’s words haunted him. They beckoned to him and made his desperation evolve into resolve. What else could he do? He stopped pacing and looked at the clock on the mantle. It was almost 1:00. His father had been waiting for nearly an hour. There would be hell to pay. His father always hated it when Draco was late for anything.


Without another thought, Draco whirled around and quickly left the room. He grabbed his cloak from the hallway closet and yanked open the front door.


He was taken back to see someone on the doorstep, but he was even more astonished by who it was. Several very long and awkward moments passed as he stared into the emerald eyes before him. He was surprised when he heard his voice, “What are you doing here, Potter?”


The dark haired youth before him looked as surprised as he felt, but he was quick to respond, “What are you doing here?”


Draco sneered, “I asked first, Potter.”


The other hesitated before speaking, “Snape sent me.”


Draco snorted, “Why would he do that?”


“Maybe because he’s in Azkaban?”


Draco knew this, but pretended not to care. The last thing he needed was, Potter to rub it in his face. He started to close the door, but something kept it from shutting. Potter had stuck his foot to keep it from closing.


“Move it or lose it, Potter,” Draco growled.


“Whether you like it or not Snape sent me here, and I’m not leaving until I find out why. Do you mind letting me in?”


“Yes,” he hissed.


“Malfoy, open up!” Harry raised his voice.


Draco felt the door being pushed inward. He was caught off guard by the sudden thrust and was slammed against the opposite wall. He looked up in time to see a tall silhouette just before the door closed. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw Potter standing over him, his wand drawn and pointed it at Draco.



***




“What are you doing here, Potter?”


Harry felt a wave of shock and surprise wash through him. He definitely hadn’t expected this.
“What are you doing here?”


“I asked first, Potter.”


Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. Should he tell him the truth, or make up a quick lie. No, he had to tell the truth, how else would he have gotten to the front door. Even though it pained him to say it, he heard himself say, “Snape sent me.”


Harry could see the disbelief in Draco’s eyes at his words. He should have come up with a lie. Too late the damage was already done.


“Why would he do that?”


Why would he do that? The question bothered him and made him curious all at the same time. Something inside him told him it would be prudent to find out why. Something just didn’t feel right about the whole thing. He then realized that maybe Draco didn’t know, “Maybe because he’s in Azkaban?” Harry shrugged.


Harry could tell that he had hit a nerve. Strange, Draco looked almost scared. This made the unsettled feeling in his stomach grow. He needed to find out what was going on.


Draco started to close the door on him. Harry panicked. This couldn’t happen, not until he got his answers. He reacted quickly and stuck his foot in the door to prevent it from closing.


“Move it or lose it, Potter.” He could hear the irritation in the other’s voice.


He was not about to give up yet. “Whether you like it or not Snape sent me here, and I’m not leaving until I find out why. Do you mind letting me in?”


“Yes.”


“Malfoy, open up!” Harry was getting upset now. He knew Draco would not willingly help him, so he decided to force the issue. He pushed against the door with all his strength hoping it was enough to make the door give. It was. The door flew open.


Harry heard a loud thump as Draco was tossed into a wall. He took the opportunity and quickly stepped in the house, closing the door behind him. He drew his wand and trained it onto the blond in front of him.


“Look, I know you don’t like me and I certainly don’t like you, but something is going on here and I need to know what. Are you still working for Voldemort? Is this one of his hideouts?”


Draco slowly pulled himself up off the floor. He looked like he had eaten something sour, but he did not say a word.


This propelled Harry forward. He grabbed a hold of Draco’s collar and used it to push him back against the wall. The youth sneered at Harry and spat out, “Yes, this is Voldemort’s headquarters and if you don’t leave now you’ll end up dead. Here comes part of the death squad now,” Draco nodded his head to something behind Harry.


He turned his head to see what Draco was talking about, and knew as soon as he did that he’d made a mistake. Harry could feel a knee hit his stomach. He doubled over in pain and fell to the floor. Harry struggled to get back on his feet, but knew it was too late. He looked up to see Draco with a wicked smile pointing his own wand at Harry.


“Your pathetic, Potter. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. And for your information, I’m the only one in this house. And Snape is the only one who knows where this house is. He is the Secret-Keeper after all. So that leaves me with one question. How did you find this place?”


“I told you. Snape gave me the address. You said it yourself. Snape was the only one who knew about this house. So how else could I have found out about it? Oh, and for the record, you’re not so quick yourself.”


Harry grabbed a hand full of dirt from the dusty floor and flung it into the other’s eyes. Draco stumbled backwards and Harry took the opportunity to yank his wand from the flailing arms. He stood his ground as Draco came at him. Harry thought a word effortlessly and a stream of ropes appeared binding the blond from head to toe. Harry stood over the struggling form.


“This is getting a little old don’t you think? I didn’t come here for a fight. Well, I don’t know why I came here. I just want some answers, and you’re going to give them to me. So we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s your choice. So what’s it going to be, Malfoy?”



***



Harry sat back in the armchair, soaking in everything he had just heard. Some of it was crazy and most of it was down right unbelievable. But Harry knew from experience that the truth could be crazier than fiction. A lot of what Draco had told him did add up, and it explained some of things going on. But the cautious side of him still doubted Malfoy was telling the truth, after all how can you disregard years of distrust just like that?


“Okay, let me see if I understand. You joined the ranks of the Death Eaters to make up for your father’s blunder at the Ministry in our fifth year. Voldemort gave you the mission of killing Dumbledore. You chickened out at the last minute, so Snape killed him instead because he made an Unbreakable Vow to your mother. I knew all of that. And I guessed that when you refused to kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would get pissed off. So, since he couldn’t find you, he killed your mother, and threatened to kill you and your father.


“This part is where it gets a little hazy. Snape decides to take you under his wing and hide you from Voldemort by placing the Fidelius Charm on this house. He then says you can’t leave the house without Voldemort finding out where you are. He knows this because he’s now one of Voldemort’s high-ranking followers, since he completed the job you refused to do. Then your father escapes from Azkaban and is known to be part of the attack on Hogsmeade. He sends you a letter saying he wants to meet you.”


“That’s right. What part don’t you understand?”


“The part where you’re even considering meeting your father,” Harry couldn’t help, but roll his eyes.


“He’s my father, why not?”


“Well, maybe because it’s a trap.”


“No, it isn’t. My father would not do that!” Draco stood up and curled his fist up near his sides.
Harry couldn’t believe the level of stupidity coming from the youth across from him. “Malfoy, how thick are you? His first and only priority is his master.”


“No! He probably just wants to know if I’m all right.”


Harry threw up his hands. “Do what you want, but he is the last person you should trust.”


“And I should trust you?” Draco hissed through clenched teeth.


“Like I said, do what you want, but don’t think I won’t say I told you so when you go to meet up with dear old dad and he’s wearing a dark robe and a white mask.”


“I don’t know why I even bothered telling you anything! Get out! Get out now!”


“Whoa, I’m just telling you the truth.”


“No, your not! You hate my father. You hate my whole family! You wish us all dead! Why should I even listen to anything you say?” Anger flashed dangerously in the blonde’s eyes.


“Malfoy, just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I wished you and your family dead. Well, maybe your dad…” As soon as Harry said it, he knew he had gone too far.


“OUT! GET OUT! NOW!”


“Fine,” Harry stood up. He hesitated a moment to say something, but thought better of it and walked out of the room, leaving a very furious Draco staring daggers into his back.



***



Draco absentmindedly stroked his wrist as he looked at the person sitting across from him, his arms where still red from the ropes that Potter had wrapped around him earlier. The memory was humiliating and degrading. The anger was still fresh and growing with every time he looked at those disgusting emerald eyes. He didn’t know why he was even bothering to talk to the git. But deep down he knew he needed help. Snape was gone and, as far as he knew, Voldemort was waiting to take him out. He bit his tongue, hating himself for thinking Potter an ally of any kind. Against his better judgment and instinctive drive to pound the living daylights out of him, he stared to tell Potter his story.


“Okay, let me see if I understand. You joined the ranks of the Death Eaters to make up for your father’s blunder at the Ministry in our fifth year. Voldemort gave you the mission of killing Dumbledore. You chickened out at the last minute, so Snape killed him instead because he made an Unbreakable Vow to your mother. I knew all of that. And I guessed that when you refused to kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would get pissed off. So since he couldn’t find you; he killed your mother, and threatened to kill you and your father.”


“This part is where it gets a little hazy. Snape…”


Draco fought back tears that threatened to spill at the mention of his mother. He had desperately tried to push her to the back of his mind. Sadness tore at him every time he realized that she was no longer around. That he would never be able to hear her soothing voice or feel her comforting arms around him. When she was alive, he had always pretended to be tough and push her and her kind gestures away. He regretted that now. If only he could go back and do it all over again, oh how he would do things different. It was strange how you never really appreciated things until they were gone forever. Draco fought to push his mother back to the recess of his mind where she belonged, and focused on the words he was hearing.


“…now one of Voldemort’s high-ranking followers since he completed the job you refused to do. Then your father escapes from Azkaban and is known to be part of the attack on Hogsmeade. He sends you a letter saying he wants to meet you.”


“That’s right. What part don’t you understand?” Draco spit out defensively, hoping that Potter had not noticed his momentary lapse.


He seemed to be oblivious to it, since he answered without missing a beat, “The part where you’re even considering meeting your father.”


Draco shrugged, “He’s my father, why not?”


“Well, maybe because it’s a trap.”


The anger he felt from earlier was slowly coming back. Potter just didn’t understand. His father would never do such a thing. “No, it isn’t. My father would not do that!” Draco stood up and curled his fist up near his sides.


Potter scoffed, “Malfoy how thick are you? His first and only priority is his master.”


“No! He probably just wants to know if I’m all right.”


“Do what you want, but he is the last person you should trust.”


Draco narrowed his eyes as he clenched his fist even harder, “And I should trust you?”


Potter shrugged. “Like I said, do what you want, but don’t think I won’t say I told you so when you go to meet up dear old dad and he’s wearing a dark robe and a white mask.”


Something inside Draco snapped. Maybe it was the heat from the fire in the nearby hearth, or maybe it was the stress from the last few months starting to catch up to him. Or just maybe he realized that he was sitting here pouring out his problems to someone he hated, “I don’t know why I even bothered telling you anything! Get out! Get out now!”


Potter held up his hands. “Whoa, I’m just telling you the truth.”


“No, your not! You hate my father. You hate my whole family! You wish us all dead! Why should I even listen to anything you say?”


“Malfoy, just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I wished you and your family dead. Well, maybe your dad…”


“OUT! GET OUT! NOW!” Draco screamed, as pure rage made his body shake.


“Fine,” Harry stood up and walked out of the room.


Once he was gone, it took Draco several long minutes to calm down enough to unclench his fist and breathe. Everything was falling apart and it was all Potter’s fault. It felt good and right to blame him for everything. It made the ache in his heart lessen somewhat, but not completely.


Draco looked around the room in a daze, wondering what to do next. Where should he go? What should he do? Why was his world coming unraveled like this? What did he ever do to deserve this?


A glint of white caught Draco’s eye. He noticed his father’s letter sitting on the table he had set it before being interrupted by Potter. Draco went to pick it up. A million thoughts rushed through his head making it throb. But four words kept coming back to taunt him, do not disappoint me.


Draco squared his shoulders. He had made up his mind. He set the letter back down on the table, picked up his traveling cloak from the back of a chair and walked out the front door. He still had at least an hour before sunrise.




***



Draco shivered in the early morning breeze as he picked his way up the overgrown path. Light was starting to peek over the distant horizon. He picked up his pace to a jog. Draco soon came to the crest of the hill and saw a figure silhouetted against the dawning light. Draco smiled and started to run. It had been so long since he’d seen his father. A wayward tear traced its way down his cheek as he topped the hill. He stopped and looked at his father, not knowing what to say. But there was so much he wanted to say.


His father turned and looked at him, his face hard and emotionless, “What took you so long?”


Draco looked down at his feet, suddenly embarrassed for his emotions and upset at himself for not coming sooner. He didn’t want to upset his father. He stood still hoping that the moment would pass.
“I’m disappointed in you, Draco.”


Draco’s head flew up at this. His heart fell to his feet as he wondered how he had messed up this time, but he already knew the answer to that question. He cringed inside, and wished he could go back and do things differently. Why could he never earn his father’s approval? When will it be enough?


“Our master is very upset. And he has taken your mother as payment, and now he wants you, too.”


“Father…”


“I’m sorry son, but it was the only way.”


“I don’t understand?”


“Forgive me.”


Draco watched in disbelief as his father raised his wand. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. He was hurt beyond words. How could he have been so wrong about his father? How could he do this to him? He could only think of one word to utter, “Why?”


His father shrugged, “It was the condition agreed upon in order for them to break me out of prison. You can’t even begin to imagine how terrible it is to suffer such an indignity and humiliation. A man would do anything to get out of such an uncivilized place.”


Draco’s vision started to blur as his eyes watered. Unshed tears kept at bay by his sheer will alone. His father hated to see weakness of any kind. Draco lifted his head as he spoke, careful not to let his voice crack, “Even your own son?”


“If that is the price, then yes.” His father’s voice was as cool as the morning air as he gestured to someone behind him.


The last thing Draco remembered seeing was a sliver of orange break on the horizon and bathe the valley below in warm light. It was the birth of a new day and it could very well be the last sunrise he would ever see. But this didn’t bother him as much as a deep dark feeling of betrayal creeping into his heart. He was truly alone in the world, as he was surrounded by a circle of robed figures.

Chapter 20: Heroes, Part 1




Remus shivered violently on the stone floor naked, as the day he was born. He was used to waking up like this during this time of the month. Pulling himself up into a sitting position was a laborious task due to the grueling ache that ravaged his body. He waited for the worst of the pain to subside and then dragged himself across the freezing floor in search of clothing.


It was difficult to see in the confined space for there was little light in the cell, and what little there was came from a tiny window up high in the wall. The early morning light shone on a pile of rags near his cell door and Remus pulled himself towards it.


As Remus got closer, he noticed that the pile had a shape, a human shape. Fear and dread twisted in his stomach as he stopped. No not again. Please no. A groan escaped from him as he bowed his head in shame. Tears would have come except they had dried up a long time ago. He had nothing else left to give. This saddened the tortured man even more.


Remus heard a noise and looked up. It had come from the prone figure. He got to his hands and knees and quickly rushed forward. The figure was lying on its side. Remus fumbled with the clothing around the neck looking for a pulse. His heart leaped when he found it light but steady. He wasn’t a killer, at least not today. Curious as to whom his new roommate was, he turned the body towards him. Remus was shocked when he recognized the person as Draco Malfoy.



***



A chilly November breeze brutally assaulted the Merseyside landscape sending stray snowflakes dancing through the air. It had snowed all night and now it covered every surface as far as the eye could see. Rolling hills of white were tucked away between rising peaks in the distance, while trees carried the heavy burden of snow and ice with quiet dignity. One enormous oak hid a huddled form behind its wide berth. The lone figure was oblivious to the wind tousling his black hair and a wayward branch scratching the flesh of his bare cheek.


Harry stood knee deep in snow watching the two figures on the hilltop above. Time passed as they exchanged words. Harry wished he could hear what was being said, but dared not go closer. He had spotted at least three different Death Eaters hidden in places around the clearing on the hill. Harry’s insides twisted into a knot. Draco should have stayed away. As Harry continued to observe Malfoy and his father, he absentmindedly played with a small black object in his pocket, which was still warm from being activated. He had used it to follow Draco here.


Harry smiled at the ingenuity of Fred and George. Once again they had come through for him. The Shadow Scout was a new invention of the twins that they had sent him over the summer. It consisted of two parts; a beacon which was a small dark circular button sticky on one side so that it could be attached to just about any surface and not fall off, and a locator stone that would allow the possessor of it to follow wherever the beacon went. Three taps on the stone would whisk the person to land within twenty feet of the pursued. The stone would then grow hotter or colder depending on how close to the beacon you came. He had kept a set on him hoping to find an opportunity to use it, good thing he had. Harry had slipped it into Draco’s traveling cloak pocket while it was draped across the armchair Harry had sat in during their conversation earlier that morning.


Harry’s attention was drawn back to the two figures on the hilltop as one of them pulled out a wand. He then caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The drawn wand must have been a signal, because Death Eaters were coming out of hiding and advancing up the hill. Harry watched as the elder Malfoy shot a spell at his son making him fall to the ground. Well, at least it wasn’t green light coming out of the end of the wand, Harry thought to himself in relief. Lucius Malfoy then levitated the body off the ground and disappeared down the opposite side of the hill from Harry. The Death Eaters formed a loose circle around the two and followed. Harry got up from his place behind the tree and carefully crept up the now vacant hill.


Minutes later Harry crested the top and looked into the small valley below. The gleaming snowcapped hills that lay before him reflected the rising suns yellow and red light creating an explosion of color that danced in the air. The sparkling light was so bright that Harry had to shield his eyes momentarily. He squinted and noticed a frozen creek cutting its way through the valley, next to the creek sat a modest sized cottage with several smaller buildings. The sight would have normally been breathtaking had Harry not been so intent on the group nearing the foot of the hill. He didn’t move as he watched the group travel to the cottage’s backdoor and disappear inside.


Harry was careful to notice any movement in or around the house. He suspected the place would be heavily guarded, and it was. He observed at least four different sentries around the area, and that was just what he could see from his position. There was probably twice that many, and numerous traps all around. Harry continued to scan the surroundings debating on what to do next. Should he risk rescuing Draco by himself, or should he lose precious time in getting help? And what if Voldemort was in there? Wait, why was he even considering rescuing Malfoy at all? He made his bed, now he should lie in it. And what if all of this was some elaborate trap to catch Harry? That was an even better reason to get help. These thoughts all fought for dominance in Harry’s mind.


He made up his decision. Despite the odds, Harry threw the invisibility cloak over his head and plunged down the hill, mindful of traps. It wouldn’t hurt to at least see what he was up against. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Harry made sure to cover his tracks in the snow with a vanishing spell every so often as he slowly picked his way closer to the house.


Once he was within a hundred yards of the backdoor it opened, Harry ducked behind a fallen log hoping he hadn’t been spotted. He could hear footsteps crunch in the snow as the person advanced on Harry’s location. He grasped the hilt of his wand tightly waiting for the person to get closer. The footsteps stopped and he could hear someone talking quietly.


Harry carefully peeked over the edge of the log and saw a man whispering to something hidden in the shadow of an outbuilding, a few feet from where Harry was hiding. A couple of minutes passed as the two talked. He strained to hear what was being said, but was only able to catch parts of the conversation.


“Did… hear …caught… Malfoy kid.”


“…time… thing…ridiculous.”


“….tell me…it…bet… Master… fun…”


Both men broke out into laughter as Harry leaned forward to hear better, but careful not to give his position away.


“Too bad… not…Potter…”


“…time… coming… defy… Master.”


“…get back… werewolf… chained… downstairs...”


“Lupin… get…”


“…moon… tonight...”


Suddenly one of them stepped forward and began walking back towards the house while the other took the former guard’s position in the shadows.


The back door had been closed for only seconds when Harry heard a terrifying scream coming from inside the cottage. The noise sent chills down Harry’s spine as a flock of birds on the cottage rooftop took flight into the clear blue sky.



***



Draco slowly began to regain consciousness and opened his eyes. He noticed that he was in a dimly lit room, and tried to focus his vision. Draco was immediately sorry for this once he realized where he was. An all too familiar figure came into sight above him. His blood froze in his veins as fear gripped him. Draco’s stomach fell making him feel ill, knowing that his fate was sealed.


“Here is my son, My Lord. Just as you asked,” Draco heard his father’s voice somewhere off to one side. Hearing his father only added to his apprehension and despair.


“Good work, Malfoy. You might just live another day after all.”


“Yes-s-s, Sir,” the confidence that had been present in his father’s voice faltered some as he answered his Master. Draco would have laughed if he wasn’t so terrified of the man standing above him.

The Dark Lord’s red eyes glared down at Draco as he spoke, “You let me down Draco. I gave you a chance to prove yourself, to save your family and you throw it away. What should I do to someone who shows such disobedience and cowardly behavior?”


Draco watched as the man raised his wand. He expected to feel fear knowing that he was about to die, but to his surprise anger overpowered his fear and he yelled at the man, “MURDERER! YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MURDERER!”


The Dark Lord threw back his head and let out a shriek of laughter that sent chills down Draco’s spine. He must have been crazy to say such a thing. The Dark Lord would kill him now for sure. He could see it in the maniacal man’s red eyes as he looked down upon him with a wicked sneer.


“CRUCIO!”


Draco was hit with such a blast of pain it took him a few moments to realize what was happening. The torment was so terrible that nothing else existed in his world. He could feel every bone, every living cell in his body screaming out in agony. Time passed slowly, making Draco think that days had gone by, and then as suddenly as it had started it stopped. He laid on the floor breathing shallowly, his ears ringing and body completely numb. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. Was he dead?


A voice spoke somewhere above him, “Take him. Let the werewolf finish him off.”


Draco tried to protest but nothing escaped from his mouth. He was unable to stop his body from being lifted off the floor. Draco soon slipped into darkness and smiled at death.



***



Remus sat in his usual spot against the stonewall examining the still unconscious form. Several hours had passed since he had woken to find Draco sharing his cell. He had gone on to find his clothes and then took up his current position where he waited. He was waiting for the lad to wake up. It wouldn’t be long now he thought to himself, when he saw one hand twitch slightly.



***



Harry crept back over the hill and soon found his way to the old oak tree where he had witnessed the father and son conversation from earlier. He had decided to play it smart and get help. There was just no way that he would be able to take on all those Death Eaters by himself, but it had to be fast. Harry cringed as he remembered the conversation between the two sentry Death Eaters.

Werewolf. Lupin. Werewolf. It had to be him. Remus was in that house; Harry knew it without a doubt. He had to get in there and find him, but he needed to get help first. Harry shook his head not believing his luck. No one had heard from Lupin in months and now he knew why. The Order needed to know what was going on. But Harry couldn’t shake the thought that if he left, he may very well lose the one and only opportunity he had to save his friend. And it occurred to Harry that tonight was the last night of the full moon, so if he going to rescue Lupin it would have to be well before nightfall. What would Dumbledore do if he was here? Without warning sadness and a fierce longing to see the Headmaster again, stabbed at Harry’s insides as a tear found it’s way down his cold cheek.


Suddenly he heard a sound he never thought he’d ever hear again. It was a soft sad tone that crept into his very soul. He last remembered hearing it when Dumbledore had died. Harry looked up in disbelief as he saw a blur of red and gold fly down from the sky and rest on his shoulders. Another tear joined Harry’s own.



***




An icy breeze playfully nipped at blond hair making the owner shudder. Draco groaned as he reluctantly gained consciousness. Slowly he hauled himself up on one elbow, his whole body screaming in agony whilst doing so. He squinted to get a bearing on his locations, but didn’t recognize the dark room before him. His last memories came crashing back as he realized why he was in these strange surroundings. Draco doubled over sick to his stomach and not able to accept his father’s betrayal or his current situation.


He laid face down on the frigid stone floor for a long while wishing for death. It would be easier than living with the terrible pain inside him. Anything would be better than this. He lifted his head and brushed a hand across his face wiping away the tears there and was startled to see that he wasn’t alone.


Despite the pain he was in, Draco managed to move quickly to a crouched position. He peered through the dark and saw a thin man sitting on the floor against the far wall. He looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place from where.


“Who…” his voice cracked and faltered, Draco wet his lips and tried again. “Who are you?”


“You shouldn’t be here,” a man’s voice rasped.


“W-w-why?” Draco’s voice quivered as he spoke.


The man slowly lifted his head up to the small slit of a window above. The fading light made the man’s dark shadowy eyes darker, “Because it’s a full moon tonight.”



***



Harry had quietly explored the perimeter of the cottage and grounds to find the best way inside the seemingly impenetrable fortress. As suspected the security was daunting and he soon realized that his best bet was in through the backdoor. So he backtracked and found a safe place to watch unseen, waiting for someone to exit. When this finally happened he’d managed to slip in concealed under his invisibility cloak without anyone any the wiser.


Since then he’d searched the house looking for any signs of his old friend and Draco. It had been several hours since Harry had sent Fawkes for reinforcements. He’d not heard any fighting going on, so he guessed that Mad-Eye hadn’t arrived yet. How long did it take anyway? It didn’t matter; he had a job to do. He had to find Remus and Draco before it was too late. It was already nearing two o’clock in the afternoon.


Harry silently crept down the abandoned hall careful not to make any noise. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned a corner. The invisibility cloak over him hid Harry from sight, but this did little to comfort him as he walked from one room to the other looking for Remus or Draco. This was madness. He was sure to get caught, but he kept going forward. He had to save them. Well, he wasn’t sure it was Remus in here, but by the way the Death Eaters had talked who else could it have been?


Harry heard footsteps and quickly ducked into an open doorway. Harry pressed himself up against the wall behind the door and waited. The heavy footsteps stopped short of the door he was hiding behind before Harry heard another door open and close. He sighed with relief and moved into the room.


Harry stopped in his tracks as he realized that this room must have been some sort of torture chamber. The first thing he had noticed were the shackles lining the walls and large dark red, almost brown spots staining parts of the wood floor. Harry suspected it to be blood. He also noticed another door across the room and wondered where it led to. Potion bottles littered the floor as we walked toward it trying to avoid them. He skirted glass shards from a broken bottle and stepped into a pool of liquid. A nasty stench assaulted his senses and smoke started rising from the bottom of his trainer. Harry jumped back, his cloak falling to the floor in the process and shot a spell at his left foot. The goop on the bottom of his shoe disappeared, but not without leaving a gaping hole in the rubber. Harry could see the white of his sock. Have to be more careful. Harry reprimanded himself.


Harry turned to pick his cloak up from the floor when he saw a large shield that stretched from floor to ceiling. On the sparkling silver surface rested a black bird that had its wings spread wide and beak open as if calling to something. The bird almost seemed alive. Merlin, it’s huge. Harry was mesmerized by its grandeur and beauty as he stood in front of it admiring the small details of the etched work. He felt it call as he stretched out a hand. The door down the hall opened once again and he pulled back his hand. Forgetting his enrapture with the massive shield, he ran to the other door across the room.


Harry opened it and noticed he was back in the hallway he had started in upon entering the house. Great, back to square one! He quickly shut the door, passed the backdoor leading outside, and two other doors. Already being here once, he knew that one room was a washroom and the other a study of some kind. Soon he found himself back in the hallway that led him to the torture room, so instead of turning right this time he turned left.


A lone door stood at the end of this hall. Harry opened it and saw a set of stairs going down into the dark. … werewolf… chained… downstairs… This must be it. He stepped onto the landing and shut the door behind him, without the light from the hallway it was pitch black. Harry chanced lighting his wand and carefully started down trying his best not to make any noise on the old wooden stairs. Surprisingly he was able to get to the bottom without too much noise.


Once he descended into the basement, Harry was able to make out a small room on his left with a wooden table and cot, and before him a long corridor of doors stretched into the darkness. Harry went to the first door on his right and tried the handle. The door opened to reveal a small storage area. The next door was unlocked as well. This one turned out to be a small room with no furniture and a tiny window near the ceiling. Harry spotted shackles on one of the walls. Getting close. Undaunted, Harry continued down the hall trying each door as he went and each in turn were empty. He finally reached the last two and opened the right one, except it would not open. Harry stepped back and waved his wand, “Alohomora.”


The door remained closed, which didn’t particularly surprise him. He waved his wand again, “Bombarda!” Harry cringed at the loud explosion that followed. He’d have to hurry, someone was sure to have heard that. Harry waved away the smoke rising from the now gaping hole where the door once was. He stepped through the opening and looked around.


He saw a man propped up against the opposite wall. His clothing was in tattered shreds and his skin was a sickly white. Harry thought he might have gotten the wrong cell until the man lifted his head. Remus. Harry felt a surge of relief as he ran to his old professor’s side and knelt down beside him, “It’s good to see you.”


The haggard man looked up, his face almost unrecognizable. Probably from the lack of sun and food, “Har-r-r-y, …at you?”


“Yes. We have to go. I’m sure they heard the explosion.” Harry put a hand under the man’s arm to lift him to his feet.


“Figures,” a voice snarled behind him.


Harry whirled around to see Draco behind him.


“Malfoy!”


They stood looking at each other for a moment. Then to Harry’s utter surprise without saying a word Draco went to Remus’ other side and bent to help the man up. Harry could only stare at his old nemesis.


“Well, are we going or not? You said it yourself, we don’t have long.”


The three started for the cell door. Harry was still in disbelief over Draco’s actions, “Why are you helping? You don’t even like Remus, or me.”


“I don’t know if you have noticed or not, but we are in the middle of enemy territory and I figure you have a plan to get us out, so it may be better to stick together, for now. You do have a plan?” Draco spat.


Harry felt liked he’d been slapped across the face by Draco’s accusation, “Of course, I have a plan. How stupid do you think I am?”


Draco snorted, “Do you really want me to answer that?”


“Enough! Need to focus on getting out of here,” Remus rasped from between the two of them.


“Remus is right. Come on, this way,” Harry gestured to the stairs leading up to the floor above, only to stop as it opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy and two other Death Eaters.

Light from a dying fire embraced the thin man as he hunched over the mess of scrolls and books that covered the short table before him. He had settled himself in front of the fireplace hours ago in an effort to finish the pressing paperwork yet to be done before his departure in the morning. He was so engrossed by his work that he did not notice the bedroom door open and someone slip into the four-poster bed close-by.


The intruder spoke in a soft tone, startling the man, “Remus, my Darling, come to bed. You’re leaving soon, and I’m determined to spend as much of what time is left doing more… pleasant things.”


Remus looked up from his laborious task to see a pink haired beauty batting her long lashes at him. He gladly set his quill aside and joined his wife. Once in bed, he pulled her close and kissed her, savouring every second that her warm lips touched his. It ended all too soon as she pulled away.


“How long do you think you’ll be away this time?” she asked, gently caressing his shoulder.


He sighed and lay on his back enjoying her touch, “I don’t know, a month, maybe two. It depends on how things go.”


“Would it make any difference if I asked you not to go?”


Remus ran his fingers through her hair as she leaned her head down and began kissing his chest, “Sugar Pops, you know this is important.”


“I know. I just worry that’s all.”


“I know you do, but I’ll be fine, really,” he groaned with delight as she continued lavishing his torso with soft wet kisses.


When she got to his belly button stopped and looked into his eyes, “Remus?”


“Yes, Darling?”


“How many children do you want to have?”


Remus sat up abruptly, not sure he had heard right, “Children?”


“Yes.” Tonks seemed not to notice his behaviour, as she walked two fingers up his chest and began twirling the hair there around her index finger. “Me, I would like to have a whole house full. The more the better,” she giggled then nipped at his ear.


Remus was not amused and pulled away from her, “Do you think that wise with my condition?”


Tonks was not daunted as she threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose at the base of it, “Oh, don’t be silly. I happen to know of a Healer in China who found a cure for the offspring of people in your condition.” Tonks drew away and settled back on her pillow and shrugged, “The children still have a taste for rare meat and they get a little cranky during the full moon, but other than that…” she finished her sentence with a giggle and a look that would have normally sent chills of pleasure through him.


Remus didn’t know what to think of his wife’s comment and laughed at the absurdity of it. “You’re making that up.”


Tonks pouted, “I am not! I have a friend who knows someone else, who knows this other person, who knows the Healer, who has had at least eight successful documented cases.”


Remus couldn’t help it and laughed even harder despite the angry stares his wife was throwing him. “Now I know you’re making it up!”


Tonks slapped him, “I’m being serious, Remus.”


He stopped laughing and looked into her eyes and could see the sincerity there. “You are serious.”


“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I sent him a letter a while back and he just recently wrote saying that he would love to take our case. I didn’t want to say anything before, because I didn’t want to get our hopes up.”


Remus stared at her in disbelief, “So we could have a family one day.”


Tonks nodded her head and hugged him, “Yes, my Love.”


It then finally hit as he felt more joy than he could possibly measure soar through him. “Children! Darling, I never hoped to be that lucky. I always…” his voice cracked and eyes watered. He pulled his wife close to him, holding her gently. “Sugar Pops, I would love to have a house full of children with you.” He said into her hair and then pressed his lips to her head, lips, chin, and finally worked down to the nape of her neck.


Tonks groaned with pleasure as she ran her hands up and down his back. She began to nuzzle his ear and then whispered making him tingle all over, “I love you, Mr. Lupin.”


He loved it when she called him that. He grinned and whispered back, “I love you too, Mrs. Lupin.”


Remus awoke from his dream to find himself back in his tiny cell. Tears streaked his face at the memory. It was the memories that had kept him alive this long and it would be those very memories that would keep him alive just a little longer.



***



Harry struggled against his bonds, but knew it to be useless. There was no escape, not this time. Harry felt his heart fall as he realized that he had let everyone down, most of all Dumbledore. The Head Master had given up so much for him, as had many others and this was how it was all going to end. He couldn’t allow it, he wouldn’t. He would defeat Voldemort if it was the last thing he did, and it looked like it would be as he watched the madman above him.


Voldemort let out a shriek of laughter as he stalked high above Harry, his arms opened wide as if beckoning the heavens to his command. The room grew quiet as Voldemort’s laughter died out. He knelt beside Harry and touched a pale finger to him. Harry’s forehead burned with fire from within making him cry out in pain. This made Voldemort shriek in laughter once again.


“So Potter, I finally have you right where I want you. And to think I went to all that trouble to catch you and you simply walked right through my front door, or was it the back?”


The surrounding dark clad figures laughed in unison at their Master’s joke. Harry found no humour in it as he continued to struggle against the ropes. Voldemort than stretched out a hand grasping Harry’s head and caressed a cheek with his long spindly fingers. Harry winced as a fingernail cut flesh. The wet sticky blood oozed down to the side of his neck and began to pool on the floor.


“I failed to kill you the last time we met my dear boy, but that won’t happen a second time. No one can run or hide from me, as your precious Dumbledore found out. He isn’t here to save you this time.”




***



Remus rubbed a spot on the back of his head as he remembered the spell that had knocked him unconscious. He recalled being hit almost as soon as the door to the basement had opened. The memory of falling backwards and the sharp pain as his head had made contact with the hard floor was still vivid. But this was not what bothered him as he impatiently paced the small room. What happened to Harry and Draco? Was it already too late for them?


Remus looked around his cage frantically trying to find a way out, but he knew it to be useless. If there had been a way to escape, he would have done it long ago. Feeling miserable and a complete failure, he stopped his pacing and rested his back against the cell wall. This was it, he would die here and there was nothing he could do. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He could handle his own death. He had grown to expect it, even welcomed it on many occasions. But it didn’t feel right to just sit back and let others die, especially not Harry. The boy had a whole life ahead of him, and a destiny to fulfil.


Frustrated, he kicked at a stick on the floor. The object jumped a few inches into the air and fell back to the floor, rolling loudly across the stones until it rested in a ribbon of light from his window. Remus stared at the wooden object and realized that it was no stick at all, but a wand.



***



“Crucio!”


Harry thrashed violently on the floor, as the man above him sent spell after spell. Waves of torment flowed through him making it difficult for him to breathe. It felt like his insides were about to explode, and yet they didn’t. Would it ever stop? Where was Remus? He should have been here by now!


Harry flashed back, remembering slipping his wand into the man’s pocket after Lupin had been knocked unconscious and just before he himself was taken by Lucius. Harry was betting that since they hadn’t killed Remus yet that he still served some purpose, maybe, just maybe. And where in Merlin’s name was Mad-Eye!



***



Draco paced the floor for the fiftieth time. It had been a good hour since he had been dragged into this cell. His father hadn’t even bothered to look his way when he ordered one of the Death Eaters to lock Draco up. Dear old dad must have been bumped up a couple of notches in the ranks since turning over his only son to the Dark Lord. Draco kicked at the wall. He was immediately sorry for this when his foot and leg screamed in pain. At least it took his mind off more unpleasant things, even if it was only for a few seconds.


Draco returned to pacing only to be stopped by the sound of someone outside his cell. He cautiously stepped backwards, just in time as the door was violently thrown open revealing the Death Eater who had escorted him to his prison an hour before. Draco was surprised that the man wasn’t armed, so he decided to take advantage of the situation. Draco braced himself to pounce and stopped as he saw another face come into view.


Remus Lupin stood behind the Death Eater, wand pointed at his back. Draco also noticed a set of legs in the hallway. They probably belonged to another Death Eater who was supposed to be on watch. Draco smirked, “Impressive for a man who can barely stand.”


A trembling Lupin waved Draco out of the cell, “Are you coming, or would you like to stay here?”



***



Voldemort loomed overhead, “Before I kill you, you will tell me how you did it. How were you able to enter my mind after I used Occlumency against you?”


A weak and exhausted Harry didn’t know what to say to this, and he most certainly did not know how he had done as Voldemort claimed.


“Come on, speak up boy. You entered my mind on at least one occasion, maybe more. How did you accomplish this? Have you inherited your mother’s gift?”


“My mother’s gift?” Harry rasped, completely confused now.


“Ah, Dumbledore didn’t tell you. The old man did love his secrets,” Voldemort cackled.
“I don’t understand?”


“Fool, power like that shouldn’t be wasted on the likes of you, no matter, you will be dead soon,” Voldemort emphasised this by directing his wand towards Harry. “Let’s see if you can live through the killing curse again, shall we?”


“Avada Kedavra!”



***



Draco crept up the basement stairs making as little noise as possible and shook his head. This plan was ridiculous. Lupin was going to get them both killed, and for what, Harry Potter? Draco snorted, whoever would have thought that he would try to save Scarhead’s skin? But Lupin insisted that they would need Harry’s help to get out of this alive. Draco didn’t doubt that. Lupin looked so sickly he wondered how the man was even able to stand upright by himself. Maybe he should just dump them and make a break for it as soon as the opportunity arose, until then he had little choice, but to pretend to go along with the werewolf’s wanker idea. The conversation of Lupin’s plan was still fresh in his mind.


“Voldemort spends most of his time in the sitting room. This is where Harry will be. There are two doors to this room. The one near the front door is the one we will use. We will have to be careful as I’m sure there will be Death Eaters lurking around. Now since there is only the one wand between us, you will mostly act as a distraction while I subdue these Death Eaters.”


Draco looked at the man in front of him with a doubtful glare, “Are you sure you can handle it? You can barely stand. Maybe I should take the wand, and you act as a distraction? I’m sure your falling down will get their attention right away.”


“I can hold my own, and besides I don’t trust you to stay around to help. This way I can at least keep an eye on you.”


Draco shrugged, “If you say so.” He decided not to press the issue, for now. The man didn’t have to release Draco from his cell in the first place. A little cooperation wouldn’t hurt. “How many Death Eaters are normally here?”


“Quite a few, but today there are only about a dozen give or take a few, and they only have that many because they knew you were coming.”


“Where did everyone go?”


Lupin shrugged, “I don’t know, something about testing a new weapon. We don’t have time for this, we have to go.”


Draco was growing suspicious of the werewolf’s extent of knowledge, “Wait. How do you know about all of this?”


“It’s one of the perks of being a guest at Voldemort’s stronghold. You hear all kinds of information, especially when they think you’re unconscious. Now let’s go. There isn’t much time. We may already be too late.”


So here Draco was stuck in the middle of Voldemort’s headquarters with a scary madman and at least a dozen murdering loonies out to get him. Now he was following the orders of an even crazier werewolf. Yes, Draco decided, he was going to die.



***



Remus gripped Harry’s wand in his hand, as he silently moved near the sitting room door. It was cracked open enough that he could see the back of a man. On closer inspection, Remus realized it was Greyback, and seeing his torturer sent a chill through him.


Remus’ legs began to shake with fatigue. Taking out those three Death Eaters, another had been stationed at the top of the basement stairs, took more than he liked out of him. Remus stopped and closed his eyes, Steady Remus, old boy. You only have one shot at this. Make it count. You can do this. When he was satisfied that he could continue without an incident, he went to the door. Slowly and without sound Remus grabbed hold of the door handle.


Remus could hear Voldemort speaking to someone inside, “Fool, power like that shouldn’t be wasted on the likes of you, no matter, you will be dead soon. Let’s see if you can live through the killing curse again, shall we.”


Remus didn’t need to hear any more. He threw open the door with all the strength he had and aimed his wand at the person at Voldemort’s feet.


“Avada Kedavra!”



***



Harry braced himself for the spell, but was surprised to feel himself sliding across the floor, past two equally surprised Death Eaters, and out a door. Harry peered into the room he had just vacated and saw a nasty scorch mark smoking where he had been only seconds ago. What in Merlin’s name! Harry looked up to see the smiling face of none other than Remus Lupin.


Lupin slammed the door shut behind him and locked it, “That won’t hold for long. Need some help, Harry?” He aimed a wand at Harry and his bonds fell to the floor.


Harry was about to thank Remus, when a terrible explosion blasted the sitting room door into pieces. Both of them ducked through the front door Draco was holding open. The three of them wasted no time as they placed as much distance between them and the cottage as possible.


Between their injuries and the foot of snow on the ground, the going was slow for Harry and Remus. Draco however was out pacing them by several feet as he ploughed though the snow almost effortlessly. Harry took advantage of this and followed in Draco’s footsteps. Lupin caught on and started to do the same, but they still lagged behind as Harry watched Draco’s receding back.


“We have to make it either past the tree line or over the creek before we can Apparate,” Remus yelled nearly out of breath.


“That’s if you make it that far,” a voice said as two Death Eaters stepped into view on Harry’s left and took aim.


Harry dodged for shelter behind a woodshed as a spell whizzed past his ear. Lupin was close behind. The two huddled behind the small building as loud thuds vibrated the small shack. Harry doubted that it could withstand many more hits and desperately searched the surrounding area for somewhere else to go, but there was nowhere else. Wide open space stood between them and the creek which was over thirty yards away.


“We can take them, there are only two,” Harry breathed, his back pressed tightly against the building.


“Too late, they’re about to get some help,” Lupin gestured to the front door of the cottage.


Harry looked to see Lucius, Greyback, and others closing in on them fast. A volley of spells began to fly as they both dropped further behind the shelter. A large hole was blown into the shed spraying shards everywhere.


“Bloody Hell!” Harry yelled, “We can’t stay here much longer!”


“Where’s Draco?” Lupin asked as he haphazardly threw spells over Harry’s head.


“Last I saw he was running for the creek bank. Figures that slimy git would leave us behind the first chance he got!”


“You should go too, Harry, I’ll cover you!” Lupin yelled.


“What? No! I’m not leaving you. Besides, that’s my wand you’re holding!”


“Don’t argue with me…” Their conversation was cut short by another explosion.
Harry was thrown onto his back. His vision blurred and a deafening ringing sounded in his ears. He fought to shake it off and looked up just in time to find someone standing over him, wand drawn.



***



Remus was blasted into the air and landed with his left leg twisted and pinned beneath him, but that wasn’t the raw agony that made him scream. The pain was so sudden and harsh that the blackness threatened to take him over. He looked down at his body and saw a sharp jagged rock sticking through his torso. He turned his head unable to stomach the sight and watched in horror as the snow around him slowly turned to red.


Remus shut his eyes as he tried to push the pain back. When he opened them again he saw Harry a few short yards from him lying on the ground as well. He groaned as he saw two Death Eaters advancing on the youth’s location. Remus could feel soft wood in his right hand and knew that despite the blast he was able to hold onto Harry’s wand. He lifted it to aim, but was stopped as a heavy foot stepped on his hand crushing bone. A low throaty laugh made Remus cringe. That laugh was all too familiar.


“You didn’t actually think that we would let you leave us, Remus? And where would you go? Back to the humans?”


Remus was overcome with rage at his captor. He was embittered by the harsh treatment he had received over the last few months and tired of all the indignations he had suffered. But mostly he was outraged with his inability to help his friend. They were both going to die and it was his fault. He should have found another way to escape. There was only one thing left to do.


Remus braced himself and replied fearlessly, “I’m going to kill you, Greyback.”


The wolf like man disregarded his exclamation and laughed harder, “I made you Remus, and if anyone does any killing, it will be me.”


“Not today,” Remus said quietly.


Without warning Remus turned sharply onto his right side. Doing this ripped the rock from his flesh as he screamed. The world around him began to spin and fade in and out. He held his breath and clenched his jaw as he fumbled in the snow for Harry’s wand. He found the hilt sticking out from the bottom of Greyback’s boot and yanked. To Remus’ surprise he was able to pull it out with one tug. Without wasting time Remus shot a spell at the two Death Eaters near Harry. One was rammed into the other, both falling to the ground unconscious.


“Run! Harry, run!” Remus screamed.


Still lying on his side, he then turned his aim upwards to a still surprised Greyback. Remus could see the shock on the man’s face, but the shock abated quickly as Greyback kicked Remus’ right cheek. The thrust was powerful enough to send Remus careening backwards, jagged rock once again ripping and tearing into his flesh. Remus was prepared for this and again screamed, but in the form of a spell, “Avada Kedavra!”



***




Harry braced himself as the two Death Eaters stood over him. His hand slowly grabbed a patch of snow as he waited for the perfect moment. It wasn’t much but maybe throwing it in their faces may just give him the advantage he needed. Before he could make his move though, both Death Eaters were suddenly knocked to the ground by a single spell. Confused he followed the trajectory of the shot and saw Lupin lying in a patch of red snow, turning his aim to Greyback. Harry watched as green light lit up the scene in front of him. Seconds later a loud thumb hit the snow as the old werewolf had a look of utter horror and surprise forever plastered on his face.



***



Draco panted loudly as he made his way to the creek bank. Almost there. Without looking back he stepped forward. The sound of fighting behind him hastened his pace as he waded into the cold icy water. Once on the other side, he reached into his robe and fumbled for the wand he had stolen from one of the Death Eater guards. The sooner he got out of this place the better. Potter and the werewolf were on their own.


“Malfoy!”


Startled Draco dropped the wand. He turned to see a large man on a crutch with a wild eye limping up to him closely followed by others. Draco had remembered him as an instructor for DADA class, but couldn’t place the name. Was it Marty or Mordy?


“Where’s Potter?” The man growled.


Draco simply pointed across the creek to the fighting. Marty or was it Mordy, roughly brushed past Draco and ploughed into the brook. The rude man was followed by dozens of other wizards and witches as they too crossed the icy waters. Draco turned his back on the sight to look for the wand he had dropped. He found it stuck in the snow buried there by dozens of muddy tracks.




***




As soon as Harry saw Greyback’s body hit the ground, he pulled himself up and made his way to Remus’ side. It took a masterful amount of dodging and acrobatics to avoid all the spells zipping his way that surprised even Harry, but he was determined not let someone else die because of him. He reached his friend and picked up the wand in Remus’ loose grasp.


“Harry, go. It‘s too late to save me.”


Harry ignored him as he planted himself between the now six Death Eaters and his friend. Harry felt strength flow through him as he prepared to take them all on. He no longer had any doubts in his mind about his abilities or the future. All that was left was peace and confidence of his victory.




***




Remus watched on with satisfaction as Greyback fell to the ground. That should give Harry at least a good head start. He felt the energy leave his body as his wounds painfully reminded him of his own predicament. Remus felt his body shudder and his wand hand fell to his side. Someone picked the wand and stood over him. He saw those familiar emerald eyes staring back at him.


“Harry, go. It‘s too late to save me,” he gasped.


The young man disappeared from sight and Remus noticed that the light was becoming dimmer. The moon would be up soon and for the first time he could remember, he welcomed it with a smile as he realized he would never again have to face the change into that brute of a creature. Finally after all of these years he was free. A vision of beauty filled his sight as he remembered every curve and line of his life. Her name rested on his lips as he took his last breath, “Sugar Pops.”




***




What happened next was all a blur to Harry as he fended off the Death Eaters. As each spell found him, he was either able to deflect it or move from its path. He would not back down or give up. All that existed was his training and nothing else mattered. Harry felt a confidence and steadiness he had never felt before and used it to push back his enemies.


This went on for several long gruelling minutes until Harry suddenly noticed other spells coming from behind him. He dared not risk a glance back, but he knew that help had finally arrived. It was about time. It wasn’t long before all of the Death Eaters were disarmed and bound, including Lucius Malfoy who kept screaming obscenities until Mad-Eye gagged him.


Harry stood as if in a daze until a hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality, “Are you okay?”


He turned to see Arthur Weasley standing beside him.


“Yes, I’m fine. Voldemort is in the house.”


Mr. Weasley nodded and waved a group of Order members to the cottage. Harry then remembered Remus. He knelt down by the man’s side and knew that it was too late. His friend Remus Lupin was dead.



***



Harry sat by Remus’ side as the sun set on the horizon. A glow of golden light played on his old Professor’s face before it, too disappeared. Harry felt someone come up behind him.


“I thought you would want to know that Voldemort escaped,” Moody growled.


“Doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t have been able to stop him, not yet,” Harry said quietly.


Moody grunted, “Come on, Potter. Weasley will look after Lupin.”


Harry didn’t move, “Does it get any easier to watch good people die?”


It was quiet as Moody scratched his head and finally he replied, “No, but at least he died a hero, that’s something.”


“There seems to be a lot of that happening.”


“That’s what happens in war. Good people always die, but so do the bad ones. And that’s enough to give this old man something to look forward to.”

“Remus Lupin was a good kind man and we will all remember him as such. I find that my life was enriched beyond words just by knowing him. I first met Remus as a child…”


Harry turned his attention from Mr. Weasley who was speaking to the small gathering of people. The funeral was taking place at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had insisted on it since she had taken over the arrangements from Tonks, who was too distraught to do it herself. There wasn’t a large turn out, but Harry had expected that. Most of the Order was there along with the Weasley’s, Hermione, and a few people who Harry didn’t know.


It was funny to think that only a few short months ago, Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been held here. In fact, that was the last time Harry had seen the place. He shivered as he thought how that had ended. He still didn’t understand why Voldemort had attacked his Aunt and Uncle. It wasn’t like they were close or anything. It occurred to Harry that maybe there was more to it than just a simple murder, but he was at a loss as to what it could be, and besides, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough to worry about.


Have you inherited you mother’s gift? Harry shivered as he remembered Voldemort’s cold voice as he had asked Harry that question. What was Voldemort referring to by his mother’s gift? What gift? What in Merlin’s name had he been talking about, and why didn’t anyone ever tell him about it? Maybe Aunt Petunia knew something about it? Is that why he killed her, or was it simply just a warning to Harry that he was next? If there was a reason behind her death, it was unlikely he would ever find out what it was. What bothered him the most was wondering if there was any truth behind Voldemort’s question? Harry didn’t put it past Dumbledore to keep him out of the loop of such things. After all, he had done it before.


“I have had the privilege to work with Remus over the years. He was as dedicated in his work as anyone I ever saw. His dedication drove him to find an end to this terrible war by any means necessary.


And like so many before him, his life was ended too soon…” Mr. Weasley’s voice floated across the lawn.
Harry focused his attention on the heaving shoulders in front of him, his stomach knotted up.


Tonks was in tears as Mrs. Weasley tried to comfort her, but with little success. He was surprised Tonks had even made it to the funeral. She had become so upset at hearing the news of Remus’ death that she had fainted. Tonks then spent the next several days in the school’s hospital wing refusing to see anyone. Harry knew that she would take the news badly, but he hadn’t expected that. But the surprises didn’t stop there.


After a day in the Hogwart’s hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had finally pronounced Tonks fine, but very pregnant. The Healer, of course, only told a handful of people, but by the next morning everyone at Hogwarts knew of the Transfiguration teacher’s condition. The news had shocked everyone. The only one who hadn’t seemed the least bit surprised was Hermione. She simply smiled at the news and went back to her potion’s essay, leaving Harry and Ron throwing confused looks at each other.


Later that day, Harry overheard two Gryffindor third years whispering in a corner about Tonks finally confessing that she and Remus had been married secretly sometime during the summer. It had been spur of the moment and right before he had gone back on some sort of secret mission. There had been no time to tell anyone, so they agreed to tell everyone when he returned, only this never happened. The girls giggled and called it romantic. But Harry barely had enough time to rush upstairs to the bathroom before his lunch came back up on him.


Harry sat in his chair as he felt the guilt eat through him like a worm. It was his fault Remus was dead. If only he had waited for Mad-Eye to show up, but how could he have known it would take the better part of a day for help to come. He also could have done more to save Remus, but Harry knew that blaming himself would not do him or anyone else any good. But it still didn’t make the guilt go away.


“The Head Mistress would now like to say something,” Mr. Weasley gestured to someone behind him.


Professor McGonagall stood up and began to speak, “I have known Remus Lupin since his schooldays at Hogwarts. He was a quiet man, but dedicated to the friends that he had…”


Harry heard a crackling noise and looked down to see a piece of paper blowing near his feet. The wind pressed it to the leg of the chair in front of him. It was The Daily Prophet from two days ago. The caption across the top sent chills down Harry’s spine as he read it, Small Town Decimated by Unknown Causes. Harry knew exactly what that unknown cause was, or at least who had caused it. It had been the reason for the Orders late arrival at Voldemort’s headquarters.


The conversation rang all too clearly in his head as he remembered meeting with the Order. It had taken place in the Head Mistress’ office only hours before. They had waited until then to meet because Harry had just been released from Madam Pomfrey’s care. Harry had been upset the moment he walked into the professor’s office, but things only seemed to get worse as the meeting wore on.


“What happened? Why were you late? I sent Fawkes!” Harry remembered yelling.


“I know, Harry. Please calm down. We came as soon as we could, but we had our hands full with other things,” Mr. Weasley tried to sooth him.


“What other things? Remus might still be alive if you’d shown up!”


“Harry, we didn’t come because Death Eaters had unleashed… well we still aren’t sure what exactly caused it,” Bill Weasley replied.


“I don’t understand? Caused what?”


“The Muggle town Shaftesburg was destroyed. Everyone was killed men, women, children, even the animals,” Mr. Weasley explained.


Harry looked from one person to the other confused, “How?”


Shacklebolt spoke up, “We don’t know how. All we know is that it was done magically and that Voldemort was responsible for it. The Dark Mark was left to make sure there was no confusion about that.”


“The strangest part about it is that nothing else was destroyed and there was no sign of a fight.” Bill Weasley shuddered. “It was like everything that lived or breathed in the town just up and died.”


“How is that possible? What kind of magic can do something like that?” Harry asked in shock.


Mr. Weasley finally spoke, “We’ve never heard of any that could. Moody thinks that it may have been a test for something new, something never seen before.”


Harry looked at the room before him, “If they can do this to a small town…” his voice trailed off not able to continue. Harry heard a grunt behind him and he turned to see Mad-Eye. The man had been unusually quiet until now.


The Auror propped himself up on his crutch and squinted with his good eye at Harry, “I think it’s time you came clean with us, Potter. Time is of the essence here. If you have something that will bring down that monster, we need to know about it, now!” He emphasised this by hitting the bottom of his crutch to the floor making the people near him jump slightly.


The room grew quiet as the Auror’s magical eye focused on Harry. Harry twitched under the scrutiny, but met Mad-Eye’s hard gaze without saying a word. This went on for several long minutes, but no one wanted to be the first to speak.


The Headmistress pursed her lips and broke the heavy, awkward silence herself, “Perhaps this isn’t the time, Alastor.”


“This is exactly the time!” he growled. “We’ve given Potter time and what does he have to show for it? Nothing I tell you, absolutely nothing! Instead he goes gallivanting off to Merlin knows where and nearly gets himself killed! We have to act now before it’s too late! We have Voldemort on the run. Now is the time to strike!”


Harry bristled at this, “Don’t you think I don’t know that! I told you doing that would be pointless! And as for giving me enough time? You think you’ve given me enough? Do you have any idea how difficult this is? How impossible? How I may never be able to do this?”


“No, we don’t know, because you won’t tell us anything! I’m getting tired of being kept out of loop!”


Again Mad-Eye hit the floor with his crutch. This time with enough force to send several tea cups from the Headmistress’ desk onto the floor. Shacklebolt was quick with his wand and caught the dishes before they had a chance to shatter.


“Really, Alastor, that kind of behaviour isn’t necessary.” McGonagall scolded.


Harry ignored the other occupants in the room and continued to meet the Auror’s penetrating gaze, “I can’t tell you anything, because if Voldemort found out what I was up to, any chances that we have will be gone!”


Mad-Eye grunted, “So you’re saying you don’t trust us!”


“No… I … Dumbledore…” Harry was at a loss for words. Deep down he knew Mad-Eye was right. He didn’t trust the Order, not with this. It was too important to tell just anyone, and Harry knew that Voldemort had his spies everywhere.


Hermione piped up, “What Harry is trying to say, is that the less people who knows about what’s going on the better chance we have at keeping this quiet. Moody, you of all people should know the importance of a well kept secret.”


“Yeah, that’s right! So just back off. Harry knows what he’s doing. Don’t you, Mate?” Ron stood to join Hermione.


All eyes turned to Harry. Not sure what to do he smiled with more confidence than he felt. His heart sank as he realised that maybe he didn’t know what he was doing and his friends were putting too much faith in him. He looked at Ron and Hermione as they both smiled back. He could see the loyalty and confidence shine in their eyes. He remembered how it saddened and strengthened him at the same time.


Harry was brought back to the present by the all too familiar voice of the Head Mistress, “Remus was a most excellent student. He always did well with his studies and was always willing to help others…”


Harry turned his head to the right and gazed at his two friend’s profiles. They had refused to leave his side since he had returned to Hogwarts, and as predicted Hermione had given him an earful about leaving without them. Harry couldn’t be angry or annoyed with her. His heart swelled as tears found their way to the corner of his eyes. How did he ever get so lucky as to have such wonderful friends? He didn’t deserve them.


Harry felt someone squeeze his left hand. He squeezed back and turned to look into the brown eyes by his side, speaking of not being deserving. Ginny. He didn’t know what he’d do without her. She could be so hard-headed, so stubborn. Harry held back a laugh as he remembered her tantrum from two days ago. He had still been in the hospital wing healing from his wounds. He had been having a quiet conversation with Hermione and Ron when she came stomping through the hospital doors.


“Damn you, Potter! What were you thinking going off like that? We were all worried senseless!”


“Ginny I…” the savage look in the young woman’s eyes stopped him.


“Don’t you dare give me one of your stupid lame, ridiculous excuses! Why in Merlin’s name did you go tramping off by yourself? Who do you think you are? Ron, why didn’t you go with him?”


Ron sat perfectly still in his seat looking pale and unsure of what to say, “I…err…”


“Oh shut up!” she yelled.


“Err… okay,” Ron slipped low in his chair and bowed his head.


Ginny turned her nose up at her brother and again threw all her anger back at Harry. “How could you, Harry Potter! Voldemort could have…” but before she could finish she was pulled from her feet and into Harry’s lap, a pair of arms surrounding her.


Seconds turned into a long minutes as he kissed the girl. He put all his feelings for her behind it. Harry was determined to make up for lost time. Eventually he pulled away and looked into her eyes. She gazed back not able to speak for a moment.


She finally found her voice, “What… what was that for?”


Harry smirked, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?”


Ginny sat up abruptly and pushed him away, “I thought we weren’t like that?”


He threw up his hands, “So I’m an idiot and decided to change my mind.”


“We still have some issues.”


Harry pulled her back into his arms, “I know, but can’t we discuss that later.”


Ginny gave him a stern look and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, “Harry!”


“Ginny!” Harry mimicked with a laugh.


She hit him, “Stop!”


“You stop!”


“HARRY!” she screamed as she struggled against him.


He leaned in to kiss her before she could protest again.


“Err… guys…” but they both ignored Ron as they continued to kiss passionately.


Harry smiled broadly as he remembered the kiss. Warmth filled him from head to toe. He continued to gaze at the red haired beauty at his side. She looked so beautiful in her simple black dress. Why did it take him so long to come to his senses? If Remus’ death taught him one thing, it was to not waste any time you might have. You never knew when it would be up.


“What?” Ginny mouthed silently.


In response he picked up the girl’s hand and tenderly kissed it. He then turned his attention back to the Headmistress’ speech.


“We will always remember Remus Lupin as a brave strong man. He was someone not afraid to stand up for what was right. His bravery touched us all. We should feel privileged to have known such a man and be glad that we each can say that above all else, he was a good friend to us all.”



***



Harry walked down Hogwarts hallway briskly. He was on a mission and there wasn’t much time before he and the others had to leave once again. He had just arrived back to the school from Remus’ funeral when he heard that the Ministry was taking Draco in for questioning. McGonagall had insisted that he stay at the school until his wounds had healed despite Scrimgeour’s protests. Harry had a few things to say to Draco before that happened.


Harry barged into the room in which Draco was being held and spotted the blond by a large window. Without missing a beat he threw the door closed with a loud bang and confronted the young man. “Draco, you should be ashamed of yourself! It should have been your funeral today, not his. He was a good man, a great man. You will never be anything like him.”


“You’re right,” Draco said quietly.


Harry stopped in his tracks taken off guard by Draco’s response. “What did you say?” he asked not quite believing his ears.


“I said you’re right. Why did I live and he… he didn’t.” Draco’s voice cracked. After a few moments he was able to continue, “He saved my life you know, and what do I do, I run like a coward. A lot of people seem to be doing that lately, saving me that is,” he bowed his head as if in shame.


Silence hung in the air. Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He had never seen this side of Draco before. It seemed surreal that he was standing here, almost feeling sorry for the person in front of him. He was after all, as much of a victim in this as everyone else. Harry was just starting to realise this as he gazed at the blond. “What will you do now?”


Draco sighed, “I don’t know. My life, as I know it, is over. I almost wish I had died. There are some things worse that death, and pain that goes too deep to be forgiven.”


Harry shifted his weight and nervously put his hands in his pockets, “Draco, look…”


“Don’t!” Draco snapped as his head came up, eyes ablaze. “Don’t you dare start being nice to me, Potter! You’ll only insult me by doing so,” with that he turned and walked out of the room without looking back.


Harry stood in the vacant room as he closed his eyes. Draco was in for a very hard road in front of him. Harry laughed sarcastically. For that matter so was he. Pain, it was everywhere. Most of it rested in his own heart as he remembered his lost friends and family. When would this ever stop? Would he ever be able to live a normal life?


“Harry?”


He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He smiled gravely and opened his eyes to see Ginny. He stretched out a hand to pull her close and rested his chin on top of her head.


“You okay?” she asked softly.


“I am now,” he smiled.


“Are we going to do this? Ron and Hermione are ready to go.”


“Yeah, let’s do this,” he pulled away and led her to the door.


“You actually think we’ll find something in the Chamber of Secrets this time?” Ginny asked as she walked through the door Harry held open.


“Yes, I do.”


“What makes you so sure?” she stretched out a hand toward him.


Harry took it as they walked down the hall, “Because I have you.”



.