Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

Chapter 1 - The Day I Died

War is blazing on the field
the sound of a thousand battle
cries heard. As one by one the brave
do fall, death comes to men who had it
all. Leaving but a few upon the field,
to remember... the Day I Died.

--Anonymous

"POTTER, GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

Harry was lying awake in bed, the early morning rays of sunlight shining in on to his face through his window. He was trying to ignore his Uncle Vernon's bellows from down below, trying to block them out because he had just awoken from a very real dream about his late godfather, Sirius.

Sirius had died last June at the Ministry of Magic while trying to fight off Death Eaters that had attacked Harry and his friends. Harry held himself responsible for his death and it ate him up inside. All Harry could recall from this dream was that Sirius kept saying the same two words over and over again... They're coming.

"YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO GET HERE NOW, OR ELSE -"

Harry didn't get to hear what would happen if he wasn't downstairs in three seconds, because at that moment his uncle was drowned out by the screech of what was unmistakably an owl. He looked up from the bed over to his window and saw that two owls were seated outside on the sill.

After dragging himself out of bed, Harry opened the window and let them fly in. One of the owls was carrying his subscription to the Daily Prophet. It was very well behaved and stood quite still while he removed the paper and placed a few knuts in a small leather pouch attached to the birds leg. The second owl was anxiously waiting for Harry to remove a letter attached to its leg. He removed this letter and gave both owls a treat before they flew out again through the open window.

Having been nervously waiting for bad news all summer, Harry decided to read the Prophet first. He unfolded the paper, dreading the stories of death and destruction that it might hold. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the headline.

CALL FOR MINISTER OF MAGIC'S RESIGNATION

by Felice Garnet

The Wizarding community has been in uproar these past few weeks over the failure of Cornelius Fudge, our current Minister of Magic, to act earlier on the claims that He Who Must Not Be Named has been reborn and is once again gathering power. Fudge knew of these claims for roughly thirteen months before You-Know-Who was seen alive and well at the Ministry of Magic one month ago. To add to Fudge's embarrassment the Dementor's of Azkaban abandoned the Ministry and have sided with You-Know-Who. The Dementors have not been seen since.

Many people know longer feel confident in Fudge's abilities and have called for his resignation. Rose Gudreta, 31, was asked what she thought of Cornelius Fudge. "Fudge was a pompous idiot who was only looking out for himself and for the office he holds. If he had listened to Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, You-Know-Who may not have gotten the Dementor's."

Wizards and witches everywhere feel it is time for Fudge to gracefully step aside and allow for a more qualified person to take his place. This reporter, for one, would like to see that happen. The 'Minister' was unavailable for comment on this important issue.

Harry finished reading the article and tossed the paper aside with a small smile. Fudge was getting what he deserved. He made a move to open his letter when-

"POTTER, NOW!"

Sighing, Harry decided to open the letter later. He put it on his bedside table and grabbed a few owl treats before beginning to make his way out onto the landing. As he had expected, he was stopped at the top of the stairs by Dudley's latest acquisition. Sitting there on the landing was Killer, a dog almost as big as Harry himself. Killer was a German shepherd crossed with a Labrador; he had brown fur that grew in huge amounts all over his shaggy body and a long tail that seemed to be constantly swinging.

The dog would not allow anyone to go down or come up the stairs without first giving him a treat. Killer looked mean but Harry knew he was as soft as butter. As he passed, the dog jumped up and tried to get at his face.

"Alright, alright..." laughed Harry. He gave Killer one of the owl treats he'd picked up and took his chance to slip down the stairs while the dog was distracted.

When he entered the kitchen he saw that Dudley was sitting at the table eating a huge breakfast, he had about four different types of meat piled onto a thin slice of white bread and had just covered it in brown sauce. Harry had forgotten, but today was the day that Dudley was defending his title as "Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast". He saw that Aunt Petunia was busy with the stove and that Uncle Vernon was reading the paper at the table. No one said anything as he entered. Harry took a seat opposite Dudley and began buttering some toast.

"About time," snarled Uncle Vernon as he put the paper down to glare at his nephew. "What took you so long?"

"Post," replied Harry simply.

"I've told you about those owls, boy."

"Don't worry, they're gone."

Uncle Vernon surveyed Harry for a moment while piling some bacon on to his plate. Harry surveyed Uncle Vernon for a moment while spreading some jam onto his toast.

Finally Harry broke the silence. "What did you want?" he asked, not really caring.

"Dudley's boxing championship is today," Vernon announced with pride. "We're going and leaving you here. I don't want to come back and find the house a mess. You are not to touch any of our possessions or steal food from the fridge. You are not-"

Harry had been given a speech similar to this last year. He just sat there nodding his head as his uncle told him 'the rules'. He wouldn't argue, (no matter how stupid they were) he was better than that.

"Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good," said Uncle Vernon as he turned his attention back to his newspaper.

"Is that it?" asked Harry. He didn't get a reply.

Harry took his toast and headed back to his room, giving Killer a treat as he went. Once back in his room, he sat on the bed and started to eat. As he was eating he picked up the letter from before and examined it. The envelope was made of a fine parchment and his name was written on the front in emerald green ink. It was sealed with the Hogwarts crest.

Harry knew what this letter was. He had been expecting it sometime in July, and here it was. He swallowed his toast and nervously broke the wax seal on the envelope and removed the piece of parchment from within. As he had suspected; it was his OWL results. Beginning to read the letter, Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest. These results decided what he would be able to do career-wise once he left school.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please find enclosed with this letter the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Level (OWL) exams, which you sat earlier this year at Hogwarts. I am pleased to inform you that your results were amongst the highest in the year.

Harry knew who would have the highest results in the year- Hermione. Hermione always aced exams and was the smartest witch he knew. More than that she was a really good friend. Harry turned the page and found the list of OWL's that he had achieved.

Ordinary Wizarding Levels

Name: Harry James Potter House: Gryffindor

Subject: Theory Practical

Charms Outstanding Outstanding

Transfiguration Exceeded Expectations Outstanding

Herbology Acceptable Outstanding

DADA Outstanding Outstanding**

Potions Exceeded Expectations Exceeded Expectations

Care of Magical Creatures Outstanding Outstanding

Astronomy Acceptable Acceptable

Divination Acceptable Poor

History of Magic Acceptable - - - - - - - -

Overall grade for OWL examinations is - Outstanding

Total OWL's received - 14

**Special Commendation

Harry read his results again, with more than a little satisfaction. He especially liked the sound of the special commendation. Turning the page over, Harry saw a note attached to the back. It read:

Dear Harry,

First of all, congratulations on your results. They are excellent. I myself achieved results similar to these back when I was in school. Outstanding is just that, Harry. Well done. Secondly, and this is the main reason of my letter. I do not want you to dwell too much on the prophecy. You do not need to worry about this yet.

HA! thought Harry, as his fist clenched in anger. How could he not dwell on the prophecy? The prophecy that would make him either a murderer or a victim. He had dwelled on little else for the past month. Ever since Sirius... The note went on:

I know this is more than you should have to bear, but I believe that you will not have to face him while you are at school. You have time to prepare for this. Please take care of yourself, Harry.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I have arranged for a car to pick you up on the morning of September first at seven a.m. to take you to King's Cross station. I believe it would be best if you stayed in the protection of your relatives until then.

Harry finished reading the note and the postscript and his heart sank. He had hoped that maybe he would have been able to go to the Burrow soon and leave the Dursleys behind for another year. But no, he was stuck in Privet Drive for the next five weeks, the thought made him angry. Soon he would be sixteen and had proven time and time again that he could look after himself. Why couldn't they let him decide these things for himself?

An hour later the Dursleys were leaving, but not before Uncle Vernon reminded Harry of 'the rules'. After they left Harry decided to take a shower. Upon getting out he had a look at himself in the mirror. Halfway through his fifth year, he had started to shave and it was now a daily occurrence. At school he had used his wand to trim his facial hair, but he was not allowed to use magic away from school so he had purchased a Muggle razor in town the previous week.

After shaving off the fuzz Harry looked at his arms. What he saw was embarrassing and made him blush in spite of himself. They were terribly thin and weak. He examined his chest and discovered the same problem here. It was pathetic; in one week he would be sixteen and he had no muscles.

After getting dressed, Harry went downstairs and out of the back kitchen door and into the yard. What had promised to be a warm day had taking a turn for the worse. Rain clouds had gathered overhead and the wind howled through the air. Under the pergola he saw Dudley's personal weight training gym. He promised himself then and there, that for the next five weeks he would train everyday and build-up his physique. He wasn't going to waste this summer if he had to spend it here. He decided to start now.

After twenty minutes of lifting ten kilos up and down, in separate reps of fifteen, his arms felt like lead. He decided that that was probably enough lifting for today. Once back inside the house, Harry poured himself a glass of cold lemonade and watched one of the Dursley's possessions for the rest of the day.

The Dursleys arrived home at about five o'clock. Harry had retired to his room where he was reading a book on spells. He had just discovered a variation of the Point Me spell, which can be used when travelling long distances. After saying Point Me, the user adds the name of the place he's going and the tip of the wand will point in the right direction. He had just finished reading when he heard the front door open; he decided to go see how Dudley had done. Harry found Dudley in the hall, placing his boxing bag in the space under the stairs.

"How'd it go?" asked Harry.

Dudley stared at him for a moment. "Well I won of course," he said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Knockout in the third round."

"Well done," Harry said sincerely.

"Cheers, I'm off to the nationals soon."

"Oh!" said Harry. "I'll probably be back at school by then."

"Yeah....." mumbled Dudley as he walked past Harry and into the kitchen, their conversation ending as quickly as it had begun.

Harry and Dudley hadn't been fighting this summer like they usually would. Or rather, not ignoring each other like they usually would. Harry thought it was probably because of the Dementor attack last summer. When the Dementors had attacked them; Harry had fought them off with his Patronus.

Dudley, although he didn't see any of this, knew that Harry had saved his life and was being a little nicer to him... or rather he wasn't being mean to him, which was definitely an improvement. At least that's what Harry thought. Once Dudley left, Harry returned to his room and stayed there until dinner was ready. After dinner, he had to clean the plates before going up to bed just before ten. Today has been different, he thought, before his eyes grew heavy and sleep took him.

*~*~*~*

Stonehenge

Lord Voldemort surveyed the ancient stone circle. It had been here for thousands of years and was the centre of all magic in the world. This was where the most powerful of magic was born. Just by standing there he could feel the strength of the stones. They hid secrets to untold power, which he would discover. He had heard that his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin had also sought for the power in the stones, and it had cost him his life. Voldemort wouldn't be so careless, the magic would be his.

He was there tonight because of this magic. With it he could destroy the old magic protecting Harry Potter at Privet Drive. He would be defenceless. The possible ways of killing Potter once his protection was gone were limitless, and he enjoyed thinking of the more painful ones.

The immense quietness of the night was pierced by... CRACK! Three wizards appeared on Voldemort's left. They were dressed in long, dark robes and had masks on their faces. As they approached their master they sank to their knees.

"My Lord," they said in unison.

"Rise," Voldemort ordered lazily. The three wizards rose. "Did you find it?"

The wizard on the far left produced a book from his robes. "Yes my Lord," he said, as he passed the book to Voldemort. "It was hidden in the pyramid at Giza. Where you said it would be. There was... a little resistance."

"Ah, excellent, excellent." muttered Voldemort. "Yes... this is the correct book." He now looked back at the Death Eater who spoke. "Little resistance you say? I sent four of you..." The Death Eater couldn't meet Voldemort's eyes. "A loss is unacceptable. Our numbers are still to short. Punishment is in order." As he said these final words Voldemort removed his wand from within his jet black robes.

"Master... no..." said the far left Death Eater in fear. Too late.

"Crucio." The Death Eater fell to the hard ground and screamed in pain, his very nerves on fire. Voldemort held the connection for a full minute before releasing the man from his pain. "Let this be a lesson to you all. Failure is not an option. Now rise."

"Ah- Yes, my Lord." The Death Eater picked himself up off the ground and took his place among the three. There was silence for a moment as Voldemort read the book he had just received.

"My Lord," one of the wizards mumbled. "Please could you tell us why this book is so important to the stones?"

Voldemort stared at his Death Eater for a moment before answering. "Very well," he replied. "This book contains certain runes, incantations, and rituals. If they are performed properly the secrets in the stones will be revealed to us. So it was told by Slytherin."

"Oh! Thank you, my Lord," mumbled the Death Eater.

Voldemort nodded and continued skimming through the book. Eventually he looked up. "We begin soon," he ordered, "return here with seventeen others tomorrow evening." And with that he was gone, leaving the Death Eaters to prepare.

*~*~*~*

Harry's alarm woke him at five the next morning. He had come to the conclusion that it would probably be best if the Dursleys didn't know he was using the gym. After getting changed into a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt he grabbed an owl treat and moved quietly on to the landing, as he had suspected Killer was asleep at the top of the stairs. Harry crept slowly towards him. Killer awoke and raised his head expectantly as Harry drew near. He threw him a treat and continued on down the stairs, avoiding the steps he knew would creak. Eventually he was outside.

It was still dark and Harry couldn't see further than a few feet in any direction. He exercised for an hour, using the weights for thirty minutes, after which he felt like giving up, but he persevered and moved on to the exercise bike for half an hour. Once he had finished he made his way up to the shower, in which he collapsed against the wall of the cubicle and let the water drip down on him from above. After he had washed he went back down stairs and made some breakfast, toast and a cup of tea, all before anyone else in the house was up.

After a week of this Harry could definitely sense some improvement. It had become easier to get up in the morning. It also became easier to stay standing in the shower. It felt good to be doing it as well. Already he could see that his arms had become tougher and that his chest was a little more defined. Although that wouldn't be hard, considering he could only go up form where he was. The bike riding had made his legs stronger as well. He felt like he was doing something useful with himself, training to fight when the time came. Increasing his stamina.

The morning of July thirty-first dawned like any other. Harry was awake at five o'clock and went down to the gym. He had extended his exercise to an hour and a half every morning, now he was more use to the routine. Forty-five minutes of weights and forty-five minutes of bike riding. He paused every fifteen minutes for a rest, and then continued. After his shower he made his way back into his room, just as the sun began to shine over the roofs of the houses across the street and in through his window. It was the small light of dawn, just enough to see by.

Harry sat at the desk and looked at his clock. It was seven a.m. He sat there for a minute thinking about his birthday. Sixteen he thought. Not bad considering how hard it was to get there. Not for the first time in his life, he imagined what it would be like to celebrate today with his parents. Or still have Sirius with him on this day. His eyes had begun to water when there was a small hoot at his window. Outside on the sill was Hedwig, carrying a parcel. Wiping his eyes and checking his emotions, Harry opened the window and she flew in gracefully, dropping the parcel neatly on the bed and then flying over to her cage.

"Thanks Hedwig," he said. She uttered a small hoot in recognition.

The parcel had his name on the front in an untidy scrawl he recognised as Hagrid's. He removed the card.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! Who would have thought it - sixteen!

Sent you the Magical Creatures texts for next year and of course some of my famous rock cakes.

Stay well,

Hagrid

Harry opened the parcel and found the sack of rock cakes and the book. He had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking to actually eat the cakes, but he kept them because they came in handy as paperweights and doorstops. These he placed in his trunk. The book, thankfully didn't try to bite him, it was red and had a picture of a lion on the front that wasn't quite a lion. It had great wings that spanned the entire cover of the book; the creature seemed familiar to Harry. The book was titled, Magical Creatures: NEWT Level. Simple and to the point thought Harry, reading the title.

Harry was just about to read the book when two more owls flew through the open window and into his room. One of the owls he recognised as Hermes- Percy's owl. He wondered if Percy had made up with his family. Last year when Harry and Dumbledore had told everyone that Voldemort had been resurrected, Percy had turned away from his parents because they believed and supported Dumbledore, who at the time, was shunned for even suggesting that Voldemort had returned. The second owl was a Hogwarts bird that quickly delivered its mail and left.

Harry opened the parcel from Hermes first. Inside he found a card from the Weasleys.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday mate!

Hope you like your present (you'd better, it cost us a pretty knut!). It's a pocket watch that we had custom made. You said you always liked the clock in the kitchen that showed you where each Weasley was. Well this watch shows you where you, Hermione and I am. Very neat charm that Hermione explained but I forgot.

Harry opened the small velvet case that contained the watch; what he saw inside made his jaw drop. The casing of the watch was made of platinum and had been engraved with two words- Forever Friends -. He opened the casing and saw the clock face. It had three hands; each hand had a small picture on the end; one of Harry, one of Ron, and one of Hermione.

The hands had a choice of pointing to four different locations. On the right side of the face was the word: Home. All three hands were pointing to this at the moment. On the bottom of the face was the word: Travelling. On the left side of the face was: Hogwarts. And on the top of the face, (where the 12 usually went) were two words: Mortal Peril. Harry hoped all three hands kept away from that one. The watch was complete with a small hole at the top for a chain. Harry went back to the letter.

It's from all of us here at The Burrow. Dad asked Dumbledore the other day if you could come stay with us, but Dumbledore said you were to stay with the Muggles for the summer, so tough luck. Just hang in there! Heard you did really well on your OWL's, I got an overall grade of Exceeded Expectations, with 11 OWL's in total, so at least Mum was happy. I'll see you at King's Cross on September first.

Ron

P.S. Percy came home about a week ago and apologised to Mum & Dad. Isn't really much to say except that Mum wouldn't stop crying and hugging him and that Dad kept slapping him on the back. It was a bit difficult for the first few days but now it's like he never left. Though I still think he's a bit of a git, though he truly is sorry. Back to his cauldron reports and everything.

Harry finished reading the letter and put it aside. It was good to know that Percy had made up with his family, in times like these that was really important. He was about to open the letter from Hogwarts when Ron's owl Pig flew in through the window and started doing frantic circles around the room. Harry couldn't help but laugh at him; he was carrying an envelope that was at least four times his own size. Harry tried half-heartedly to catch the bird but to no avail. It was too damned excited. About five minutes later Pig settled down and Harry removed the envelope. He recognised the handwriting on the front as Hermione's. He opened it and inside was a letter along with a golden chain. He read the letter.

Dear Harry,

Happy sixteenth!

Ron wrote and told me about the watch he got for you, so I ordered this chain out of the Prophet and borrowed Pig to send it. It's twenty-four carat gold and incorporates a number of charms that affect both the chain and the thing it's attached to. If you put it on the pocket watch, both will have unbreakable, non-fading, waterproof and scratchproof charms on them. How'd you do on your OWL's? I had the highest results in the year. I'm sure you did well. I'll see you at Diagon Alley to buy our new equipment, just send me an owl with the date you're going and I'll see you there, so until then Harry, stay well.

Love Hermione

Harry finished reading the letter and looked at the chain. It did look very nice and would go well with the watch. He attached the chain through the hole in the top of the watch and the whole thing glowed red for a moment, must be the charms he thought. Harry slipped the chain over his head and put the watch under his t-shirt. It was warm against his chest and felt like it had always been there. He picked up the Hogwarts letter and opened it.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc. Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

Due to the unusual circumstances surrounding your safety, we feel that it is best if you don't go to Diagon Alley to purchase your school supplies this year. Other arrangements will be made. Please note that this is for your own protection. Hope you are well, Harry, happy birthday.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry finished reading the letter and threw it aside angrily. It was as if that sealed it, he really was stuck in this house for the next thirty-one days. Why couldn't they just trust me? He collapsed on to the bed with a sigh. I'll be all right he thought; soon he would be back at Hogwarts. After about ten minutes of mixed thoughts, he got up and decided to write thank you letters. Sitting at the desk, Harry picked up his quill and pulled a scrap of parchment towards himself. He inked the quill.

Dear Ron,

Thanks for the watch. It's brilliant. Hermione sent me a chain to put it on so I'm going to wear it round my neck. Congrats on your OWL results as well. I won't see you until September first but look out for me on the station when you arrive. Say thanks to the rest of your family for me.

Harry

He finished writing the letter and attached it to Hermes, who was perched on the desk next to him, drinking out of a glass of water Harry had left their a few days ago. Hermes gave him a small hoot before departing through the open window. Next he wrote a letter to Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

Thanks for the chain. It goes well with the watch. Well done on your OWL's (although we always knew you'd do well). Sorry but I can't make it to Diagon Alley. Dumbledore doesn't want me to leave the house. I'll see you on the train on September first.

Hope you are well,

Harry

This letter he attached to Pig, with great difficulty as the little animal was once again excited about the prospect of delivering another letter. Pig flew out the window and into the open sky. Harry watched him go, wishing that he could get on his Firebolt and follow him.

For the next two weeks, Harry stepped-up his exercising. September first seemed an age away and he needed to do something. He awoke at four-thirty and exercised until seven. He did an hour of weights and an hour on the bike. The other half an hour was devoted to the punching bag. He found that after a week of this he could lift heavier weights for longer. At the end of the two weeks, Harry looked at himself in the mirror again. Wow! he thought. The muscles on his arms were noticeable and his chest was heavily defined. He wasn't that weak and skinny any more.

*~*~*~*

Stonehenge, The Night of August 14

Stars covered the clear night sky, all was calm, and not a breath of wind blew. Stonehenge wasn't empty though. The Death Eaters had been performing the same ritual using the same incantations for two weeks now, and so far nothing had happened. Voldemort was beginning to feel frustrated at the lack of progress.

"Wormtail," he called. A short and slightly stronger looking Peter Pettigrew nervously moved towards Voldemort.

"Ye- yes, my Lord," stuttered Wormtail.

"Tell me, Wormtail, why have you nothing to report?"

"W- Well you see, my Lord. The r- ritual is very complex and-"

"SILENCE!" shouted Voldemort as he drew his wand and pointed it at Wormtail. "CRUCIO." The spell hit Wormtail in the chest; he collapsed to the floor and screamed out in pain. After a moment Voldemort stopped he spell. "That hurt, didn't it Wormtail."

"Ye- yes, my Lord," moaned Pettigrew.

"You don't want me to do it again do you?"

"No, no my Lord."

"Good" said Voldemort. "Now rise Wormtail and take your place; we do the ritual again." Wormtail got up and moved off to his place around the stone circle. "Bellatrix!" called Voldemort. Bellatrix Lestrange moved to Voldemort's side.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Get everyone in position for the ritual. We'll do it one more time."

"Right away, Master."

In ten minutes, all seventeen Death Eaters were in place on the edges of the stone circle. Voldemort moved into the middle of the circle, and stood next to the altar in its very centre.

"You put your best effort into it this time," said Voldemort. "If I see anyone not doing their part correctly, that person will be on the receiving end of a curse a lot worse than Cruciatus. Am I understood?" The assembled Death Eaters all nodded. "Very well. Let us begin."

Voldemort opened the book and placed it on the altar in the middle of the circle, and gazed up at the clear night sky dotted with hundreds of bright stars. The Death Eaters started to chant in unison. Having been repeating it for weeks now, they knew it by heart. Voldemort read out one of the last few incantations they had yet to try. "Omni as senti amort ha laq thresa." So far nothing happened.

The chanting grew louder as Voldemort read out another incantation. This time a low rumbling was heard and the sky grew cloudy. It happened fast, the sky was cloudless only moments ago. The chanting grew even louder as Voldemort read out the third incantation. Thunder was heard and then lightning lit up the sky. Wind howled in and around the circle. The chanting continued as Voldemort read out the fourth and final incantation.

A bolt of lightning shot out of the sky and struck one of the stones in the circle, leaving a smoky trail in its wake. Something had happened at last thought Voldemort. He ended the ritual and looked up at the now cloudless sky and then back down at the stone that had been hit. There were markings on the surface that weren't there before; they were glowing red, as if branded by fire. Written on the surface were the words:

obitus os sanguis

Below the words were several runes, of all shapes. They were an extremely ancient type of writing. As Voldemort looked for the translation to these runes in the book; Bellatrix moved to the stone and read the words.

"What does that mean?" she whispered. She was talking to herself but Voldemort answered.

"It is latin," he said, without looking up from the book. "In English the words say Death of Blood."

"Is this it?" she asked. "Is this what we've been searching for?"

Voldemort didn't answer straight away. Instead he continued translating the runes. After a few minutes he spoke. "Bella, I've got it," he said, a smile breaking out across his snake-like face. "This will make Dumbledore's protection over Potter worthless. Prepare a group of my most loyal Death Eaters. We strike at the end of the month."

*~*~*~*

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place - Seven hours later

Remus Lupin arrived back at the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix just as the sun was rising. He had been on the graveyard shift watching suspected Death Eaters. He had just spent the better part of fifteen hours following a man who in the end turned out to be a Muggle. Probably not a Death Eater he thought, as he watched the man doing his laundry at the local laundrette last night. Someone had screwed up somewhere for this mistake.

Remus was in desperate need of a cup of tea and some rest. He made his way to the kitchen where he put the iron kettle on the gas stove. As he sat at the table waiting for it to boil, the fireplace on the far wall burst to life. Remus looked over at the fire, he could see, mixed within the flames, the head of one Jonas Twiory. Twiory was an employee of the MMB (Magical Monitoring Bureau), the Bureau monitored the level of magic being used anywhere in the United Kingdom. It was they who monitored for underage magic across the country. Remus had gone to see Twiory a few weeks ago and asked if he could keep him posted on any abnormal levels of magic. Dumbledore had asked him to do it. Twiory had agreed but so far he had had no reason to contact Remus.

Remus got up and walked over to the fire. "Hello Jonas," he said.

"Ah! Lupin, how are you?"

"Fine, fine," replied Remus. "A little knackered but some sleep will fix that right up. Yourself?"

"Oh- er- I'm alright. It's just that some really, really high level magic was performed last night. To be honest it's a little scary."

Remus forgot his fatigue in an instant. Now he was all business. "What happened?"

"Well, I arrived at the bureau about twenty minutes ago to check on the levels for last night... except there were none. I thought that maybe the equipment had failed or something because the last recorded level was just after eleven o'clock."

"But..." Remus said cautiously.

"Lupin, the last record, just after eleven was off the charts! We don't have a rating for this level of magic. Whatever it was it caused the monitors to overload and stop working. This was some serious magic Lupin. And I don't think it was the good kind."

"Where did this happen, Jonas?"

"Stonehenge."

Remus sighed. "Thanks Jonas, call again if anything else happens."

"Will do."

Twiory's head disappeared leaving the fire to slowly die down. Remus thought for a moment before picking up some floo powder and stepping into the now unlit fireplace. "Ministry of Magic: Level 2," he said, throwing the powder down. He felt the familiar spinning sensation as the world became a blur of green flames. He closed his eyes as the spinning increased, when he heard the deafening roar he prepared to fall out the fire. A few seconds later he stumbled forward into the Ministry itself. After the Ministry had finally accepted the fact that Voldemort was back, Kingsley Shacklebolt had put a fireplace in his office that connected only to Grimmauld Place.

Remus looked around for Kingsley, but he wasn't in the office. He decided to wait in Kingsley's chair. Across the room on the far wall, Remus saw a wanted poster. It had a picture of Sirius on it. Lupin sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands. Not now he thought not the time. Five minutes later the door to the office opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in.

"Remus!" he said, spotting Lupin in the chair. "What can I do for you?"

Remus stood up, allowing Kingsley to sit down. "We may have a problem," he said, moving around to the front of the desk.

"Really, what?"

"Last night some really powerful magic was used at Stonehenge."

"How powerful?" asked Kingsley.

"This was the most powerful magic ever recorded by the MMB," answered Remus flatly.

"You think it's him?" whispered Kingsley.

"I don't know; but this does sound very Voldemortish."

Kingsley thought for a moment. "Stonehenge you say?" Remus nodded. "I'll put someone on it."

*~*~*~*

Harry had been awake and exercising for two hours. He had just moved on to the punching bag when the back door opened, he turned and saw Dudley walking towards him with a smug grin on his face.

"Potter," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Exercising," Harry replied.

"Using my gym."

"Well I thought that was obvious... What are you doing up so early?"

Dudley ignored him and continued talking. "I knew you were doing something to improve your physique but-"

"What are you doing up so early?" repeated Harry.

"I wanted to see what you were up to," said Dudley. "But I never thought you'd have the balls to touch my gym."

"Can I use it for the rest of the summer?" asked Harry, not really holding out much hope.

Dudley looked at him for a moment. "Fight me for it," he finally said.

"What?"

"You heard, fight for it. If you win I'll let you use it till the end of the month."

Harry considered this for a moment. Dudley was a boxing champion; he was practically bulging with muscle. No magic in this fight. It was hand to hand... but he wasn't going to back down from him. "All right ..." he said, looking Dudley directly in the eye.

"Good," said Dudley. "Boxing then, first one to hit the floor loses. No gloves."

Harry nodded and followed Dudley onto the grass. It was a cool morning and the early rays of sunlight just shined over the fence. The grass was still moist with dew and there was a faint fog in the air. Harry shivered in spite of himself. He turned to face Dudley.

"There's usually a handshake before the fight," said Dudley thoughtfully, his hand on his chin. "But since there's no one else here lets just get right down to it."

Dudley was immediately on the offensive, his fist connecting with Harry's lower ribs. He was knocked backwards but didn't fall. The next blow was directed at his face but he blocked this with his arms, leaving his right side exposed. Dudley noticed this and quickly hit him in the kidney. Harry cringed from the pain, but still didn't fall.

"You made a mistake there, Potter," said Dudley, "left yourself vulnerable for attack."

Harry decided to take a swing at Dudley. He threw his fist out towards Dudley's face, but he quickly dodged the punch. Harry was now facing away from Dudley. He knew it was coming the moment he turned around. WHAM! Dudley's right fist connected with Harry's jaw. He fell to the ground in pain, spitting out a little blood as he went. The dew soaked his clothes.

"I win," smiled Dudley, who was laughing as he extended his hand to Harry. Harry looked at him for a moment before taking it. Dudley helped him up. "That was the quickest fight I've ever had," he said, still laughing. He looked at Harry for a moment and then spoke to him seriously. "You know Harry; I never got to thank you for last year."

"Thank me?" said Harry, who was a little confused.

"You know, when we were attacked by those Dementy things."

"Dementors," corrected Harry.

"Yeah them. I didn't see them but I know you saved my life. So... I just wanted to say... thanks."

Harry couldn't believe it. Dudley was actually being nice to him. "It's OK, Dudley," he said slowly.

They looked at each other for a minute before Dudley turned away and walked towards the back door. As Dudley was walking in the door he turned around.

"Harry," he called. "You can use the gym whenever you want."

Harry stood rooted to the spot where he was standing, a painful bruise swelling up on the side of his face. He thought about what just happened. Dudley being nice, he thought. Well there's a first time for everything. "Thanks, Dudley."

Dudley nodded and made to turn into the house, but Harry called and stopped him. Dudley turned back. "What? You wanna rematch?"

"No... Dud- What... what did you hear last year when the Dementors attacked?"

Harry watched Dudley's face twist in what appeared to be confusion. "Hear? I didn't hear anything. It was just... cold. And, and I can remember or rather I couldn't remember ever being happy, you know? I knew that happiness was an emotion and I knew what it meant. But I couldn't remember ever feeling that way. It was the worst feeling I'd ever had in my life...."

Harry sighed. "Okay, Dud. Thanks." He nodded and turned into the kitchen.

For the next week, Dudley joined Harry in his exercising. They trained together and Dudley gave him some pointers on boxing.

"Keep your left arm up there," he said. "No, no that's too high. Watch your footing."

He was putting Harry through his paces. At first Harry thought Dudley was doing it so he had a chance to hit him, but after a few days Harry's blocking was a lot better and Dudley was having trouble getting a punch in. He's taught me how to block, Harry thought, as he dodged a right hook from Dudley.

"Good, I think you've got it. Do you wanna start on offensive moves now?"

"Sure." said Harry.

Harry and Dudley continued to train, but unbeknownst to them they were being watched. Hidden behind the rose bushes, on the other side of the yard, stood Bellatrix Lestrange, her wand pointed at Harry. "Two words Potter," she whispered to herself. "Two words are all it would take." She watched Harry and Dudley for a moment before disapparating.

*~*~*~*

Little Hangleton, The Riddle House

Voldemort sat in the same red armchair by the fire that he had done two years ago when he was barely alive. He was waiting for Bellatrix to arrive. He had sent her to Potter's residence to see if the magic worked. She was not to kill Potter he had told her, not yet. That would be his personal pleasure.

He was sitting towards the fire when he heard a small pop, followed by the swish of a cloak. "Well?" he said.

"My Lord," said Bellatrix as she moved towards Voldemort.

"What happened?" asked Voldemort impatiently.

"The magic has worked, my Lord. I stood within fifteen feet of Potter and pointed my wand straight at him. I could've kil-"

"No," said Voldemort.

"My Lord, why not?"

"I want to do it myself," he replied. "I want him to know it was me when he dies. I want him to know that I won."

"May I ask how you plan to do it?"

"I have constructed a new and improved version of the Dark Mark. You shall see soon enough."

*~*~*~*

August Twenty-seventh

Harry and Dudley had continued to train for the past few days. Harry had gotten the basics of boxing down and was occasionally getting the odd punch in, but Dudley always knocked him down anyway. Harry was glad that they were now using gloves; it was a lot softer than bare knuckles. He and Dudley had become a little closer over the past few weeks and Harry had started to think of him as a friend.

After all these years he and Dudley were finally getting along. Dudley had let Harry use his computer and watch his TV yesterday. He hadn't done anything like this in all the fifteen years he had lived with the Dursleys, so Harry knew it was special. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had, if it were possible, increased their anger towards Harry. They seemed to know he and Dudley were getting closer and were attempting to stop it. One such attempt took place that evening, just before dinner.

Harry had just sent his note to the Order, telling them he was fine and now he and Dudley were discussing the finer points of boxing at the table when Uncle Vernon sat down and glared menacingly at Harry. He then spoke to his son in a friendly tone.

"A' right, Dudders?" he asked. Dudley looked at his Dad and nodded his head before turning back and continuing his conversation with Harry. "You got anything planned for the last couple of days of the summer?"

"No," Dudley said, again turning back to Harry.

"It's just that I got some tickets for boxing the day after tomorrow and I thought that you, me, and one of your mates could go."

Dudley turned to his Dad and looked directly into his eyes. "Alright then," he said. "I wanna bring Harry."

"Wh- what?" said Vernon, the conversation not going the way he planned. "Dudley you know we nev-"

"Why not?"

"Look Dudley, I don't want you to talk to him anymore. You know what he is."

Harry sat there watching his uncle's temper rise as he talked about him as if he wasn't there. The tension in the room was growing dangerously, like a bubble. It would burst soon.

"What," said Dudley, his temper rising. "What is he? A wizard maybe!"

"DUDLEY," his uncle roared. "YOU NEVER SAY THAT WORD IN THIS HOUSE!"

"FINE," Dudley shouted as he got up and stormed out of the kitchen.

"AND YOU CAN FORGET ABOUT THE BOXING!" Vernon bellowed after him.

Harry just sat there in the awkward silence that followed. Purposely ignoring Vernon's glares of disgust that came his way every few seconds. After a few moments Aunt Petunia walked in.

"What was all that shouting?" she asked, staring at Uncle Vernon.

"It's the boy," he said, glaring at Harry. "He's bewitched Dudley or something into liking him."

"WHAT?" shrieked Petunia, looking fearful but also sceptical.

"Oh, come off it," said Harry, as he started to laugh. "Is it that impossible that Dudley and I have just become friends?"

His aunt and uncle stared at him, at a loss for words. His aunt spoke first. "I think you better go to your room Harry," she said. "And just- just stay there tonight...."

Harry didn't need telling twice, he left the kitchen and went up the stairs, treat in hand but Killer wasn't at his usual spot on the landing. Harry moved up the hall and stopped outside Dudley's room for a moment before entering. He saw Dudley sitting on the bed next to Killer. "Dudley," he said, "thanks for that down there."

"Don't worry about it Harry, I mean... we are cousins after all."

Harry was a bit taken back by this. "Yeah..." he said, "We are." He began to walk out of the room but then turned back. "Still on for boxing tomorrow morning?" he asked.

"Sure," replied Dudley.

Harry walked back to his room and lay down on the bed thinking. This was the first time in his life that he had really acknowledged Dudley as his cousin, or had Dudley acknowledge him as his cousin. For most of his life Dudley had been someone he just had to put up with, someone to avoid. But now it was if he finally had a family member that liked him. He thought about this for a while before his eyes started to get heavy and he fell asleep. His dreams again plagued by two words. They're coming....

For the next few days Harry and Dudley continued their training as if nothing had happened. Dudley still knocked him down every time they sparred and Harry still got back up and tried again. On the morning of August thirty-first, Harry rose at four thirty and went down to train with Dudley. Though he didn't feel up to it. His stomach was doing flips and he didn't know why. He felt apprehensive about today. Something wasn't right. He put these thoughts aside though, and found Dudley in the kitchen.

"Harry," said Dudley, as he walked in.

"Hey Dud, ready to practice?"

"Actually, Harry, I was wondering if we could do something else this morning."

"Like what?" wondered Harry.

"Well since today is probably the last day I'm gonna see you for a year I wondered if I could help you pack, you know... and maybe have a look at some of your school things?" he said timidly.

Harry thought for a moment. It was natural for Dudley to be curious about magical things when he lived in the Muggle world. As Dudley had grown up over the last year, Harry realised he didn't share his parent's prejudices. He could show him some magical items, but was it allowed?

He'd been called up for a disciplinary hearing last year for using magic outside of school. Well this wasn't really using magic he thought Why not? He decided that since Dudley knew he was a wizard it was probably all right. "OK," he said with a smile. "We can do it now if you like."

Dudley was very eager. "Great," he said, following Harry as they went back up the stairs, Killer receiving his owl treat as they went.

Once they arrived in Harry's room he could see that packing was going to take awhile. Bits and pieces of his magical things lay all over the room. Parchment, quills, books, cloaks. He saw the watch from Ron on his desk and decided to show it to Dudley.

"Dudley, have a look at this."

He walked over and stared at the watch.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a pocket-watch," said Harry, "although it doesn't tell time."

"Then what use is it?" said Dudley, clearly uninterested. Harry went on to explain the watch and its properties. Dudley was now impressed. "Some good friends you've got there," he said.

As the packing continued, Dudley occasionally asked what one thing or another was. Harry thought Dudley's jaw would hit the floor when he explained what his Firebolt was. Though nothing impressed Dudley as much as the invisibility cloak.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the cloak.

Harry was throwing away some old parchment when he looked up to see what Dudley had. "You'll like this," he said, a smile creeping its way across his face. "Give it here." Dudley handed Harry the cloak. "Turn around," Harry said. Dudley did. "Alright turn back around." Harry watched Dudley's face as he realised he was gone. It widened in surprise and then confusion.

"Where'd you go?" said Dudley.

"I'm right here, mate."

Dudley jumped as Harry put a hand on his shoulder. Laughing at Dudley's reaction he removed the cloak right in front of him and watched Dudley's eyes grow wide.

"This," Harry said as he handed Dudley the cloak, "is an invisibility cloak. It was my Dad's."

"Wow," said Dudley. "Can I try it?"

"Sure." Dudley put on the cloak and walked around the room. "You still here?" asked Harry

"Yep, right here," said Dudley, as he removed the cloak and gave it back to Harry.

After a few hours the packing was done. All except the watch was in his trunk; he put this around his neck. The rest of the day Harry spent with Dudley. They played on the computer, they watched TV and in the afternoon they got in a last practice session of boxing. Harry succeeded in knocking Dudley down. Something that he would always remember....

Just before dinner, Harry went back to his room because Hedwig was screeching. "What is it?" he asked as he entered. "Uncle Vernon will have me if you're not careful." Hedwig was sitting at the window wanting to be let out. "Going hunting?" he asked. She nodded her head with a hoot. Harry opened the window and she flew out. "If you're not back by tomorrow morning I'll be on my way to Hogwarts," he shouted after her.

After dinner Harry went back up to his room and lay down on the bed. For whatever reason he was exhausted, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension and fear that had settled on him today. Oh well. Back at Hogwarts tomorrow, he thought. Though for the first time in his life he would miss Dudley. As these thoughts clouded his mind he drifted slowly into sleep.

Harry was standing in the Dursley's kitchen. It was dark, the only light came from... well it seemed to come from him. Just enough to dimly light the immediate area around him. He was thinking about the veil through which Sirius had fallen when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around, wand at the ready. Standing there was a figure Harry had longed to see....

"SIRIUS," he yelled, throwing his arms around his godfather. "I thought you were dead, but I knew, I knew you'd never go."

Sirius didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at Harry. Finally he said, "Harry, they're coming. You've got to go. They're coming."

"Whose coming?" asked Harry.

"They're coming Harry. You have to leave."

"Who is coming Sirius?"

"Voldemort and the Death Eaters."

Harry stared into his godfather's eyes. "No," he said, "no. The protection, Dumbledore's protection, he can't get me here."

"It's gone Harry, you have to get out, get to Hogwarts."

"But I-"

"No Harry, leave, get to Hogwarts its safe there."

Harry sighed and then looked into the face of the only person that had ever come close to being his parent. "I don't want you to go again," whispered Harry.

"I know," said Sirius, "but they are coming, you have to leave."

Harry felt his eyes water and knew he was about to cry. " Sirius... I- I'm sorry you died. It- it was my fault. If I hadn't-"

"NO," he shouted, "It wasn't your fault, don't ever think that."

"Yes it is, I-"

Sirius put his hands on Harry shoulders. "Harry listen to me. You are not to blame. I don't blame you and no one else should either."

"I miss you Sirius..." said Harry.

"I miss you too, but you've got to wake up. They're coming."

"How is this possible, Sirius? You- You're de-"

"There is no time to explain, Harry. WAKE UP!"

Harry awoke in a cold sweat. He was breathing heavily and his sheets were all twisted around him. It was a dream, he thought, just a dream. But no sooner had he told himself this, that his scar exploded with pain. He rolled out of the bed and on to the floor, clutching his forehead all the way down.

The pain suddenly stopped and he looked at his hands, there was blood on them, his scar had split and was bleeding freely. As quickly as it had stopped, the pain came back again, twice as strong. "AAARRGGHH!" he screamed, rolling around on the floor. The pain stopped again and he knew, he knew Voldemort was coming, he could feel it. He had seen into the Dark Lord's mind. They were coming. They're coming.

Harry got up and ran to his trunk, throwing open the lid as he got there. He took out the four most important items: wand, Firebolt, invisibility cloak, and the Marauder's Map. He ran over to the desk and picked up the pocket watch, putting it around his neck. Hedwig he thought. Looking over at her cage he saw that she must still be out hunting.

"Aaarrgghh" he screamed, as his scar exploded for the third time, with blood dripping into his eyes he moved towards the window. After mounting his Firebolt he flew out into the cold night. There was not a cloud in the sky and a cruel, cold wind blew. Once he was outside he put the invisibility cloak over him and the broom. He was completely covered, the only way someone would see him was if he flew directly over them and they looked up.

Harry flew away from the house with what little speed he could, he wasn't going that fast because he didn't want the cloak to blow off. He was about seventy feet away when he thought of the Dursleys. Shit, he thought. He couldn't leave them, he may not like them but they were his only family, and Dudley was his friend, no, his cousin now. He turned around and started to fly back.

As he was flying the pain in his scar subsided. It was now just a dull throb. Maybe he's changed his mind? thought Harry hopefully. But he knew he hadn't. Something was nagging at Harry; something about his surroundings had changed. And then it hit him; the wind had died down and it was quiet, too quiet. It was as if everything was holding its breath, waiting for whatever end was coming.

Harry wiped some blood out of his right eye with the back of his hand. He carefully touched his scar and felt that the blood had stemmed enough to stop the flow. He flew slowly; making little noise, no more than the rustle of his clothes, which did sound very loud against the quietness of the night. About halfway back to the Dursleys he heard faint pops pierce the otherwise quite night. Looking down on to the street of Privet Drive he could see that several wizards in long, dark cloaks had just apparated on to the pavement in front of the house. At their lead was a skeleton of a man, with a snake like face and piercing red eyes, at their lead was Lord Voldemort.

Harry could only watch helplessly from a distance as Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at the house. No one was about on the streets, it was so quiet. And then, Harry froze as two words shattered the quietness of the night. "MORSMORDRE INCACEPTIUM!" shouted Voldemort.

Harry watched as a massive green skull erupted out of the end of Voldemort's wand. It didn't make a sound. The skull grew in size as it streamed its way through the air towards the house. The skull circled the house, leaving a spiral trail from the bottom to the top. Then it paused at the front of the house, the entire structure now glowing faintly green. The skull moved and hit the front wall. It disappeared, apparently doing nothing. Nothing happened, thought Harry as everything grew quiet again. He looked back at Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He watched as the Death Eaters Disapparated, leaving Voldemort alone on Privet Drive. He stood there for a moment and surveyed the house before disapparating with a pop!

Harry started to fly again, towards the house. This was confusing. What had he done? He had barely moved before number four Privet Drive, his home for years, exploded in a ball of green flames. The initial shockwave sent Harry backwards off his broom and plummeting through the air to the road below. He landed hard on his right arm and heard a sickening crack. It was broken. He screamed out in pain, but no one heard him over the sound of the house exploding. It was collapsing in on itself. Through the pain Harry heard a sickening high-pitched laugh ring out through the night, it seemed to come from the very explosion.

Harry tried to get his bearings. He had fallen into Magnolia Crescent, his broom and invisibility cloak lying about ten feet away. He crawled towards them holding his broken arm close to his chest. Throwing the cloak over himself with his good arm he mounted the broom. Flying up over the houses again he saw Privet Drive. What met his eyes was utter chaos. His house and the houses immediately to the left and right of it were completely destroyed. Numbers two, four and six were gone. Several houses after that were alight with green flames. Hanging above the rubble of what used to be number four, was The Dark Mark, from which the evil cackle of laughter still emanated.

"NO!" screamed Harry. "NO YOU BASTARD! THEY WERE MY FAMILY, THE ONLY FAMILY I HAD LEFT. YOU'LL PAY! YOU'LL PAY YOU SON OF A BITCH! I WILL KILL YOU!"

Harry started to cry. Not just odd tears but long hysterical sobs. He didn't know how long he floated there crying, but when he looked down at the street again he could see the emergency services swarming all over it. A thousand flashing lights that would have been quite extraordinary if it were not for the destruction.

I have to get out of here Harry thought, Get to Hogwarts or- or find someone from the Order. The Order... Arabella Figg. Harry turned his broom around and flew down to the home of Arabella Figg. She wasn't out on the street, which he thought was strange as most residents were outside looking on at the destruction of Privet Drive. He landed silently on the front lawn and walked up the path and knocked on the door, wincing as he brushed his broken arm against the wall. There was no answer. He knocked again. This time the door swung open of its own volition, somewhat ominously. Harry entered cautiously, holding his wand in front of him as he went.

"M- Mrs Figg," he croaked, "its Harry Potter. I-" Everything was deathly quite. It was unnerving. There was a small light coming from a room up ahead, Harry knew this as the living room. He approached it cautiously and slowly pushed open the old, creaking oak door. Harry stopped and collapsed to the floor as he entered the living room. Sitting in an armchair, by the fire, was Arabella Figg... covered in her own blood.

Harry felt sick, chancing another look at the late Mrs. Figg, Harry saw that someone had slit her throat. He couldn't believe it. Voldemort had made sure that even if he did survive the house explosion, no help would come. Harry turned away from the site of the body and looked towards the fire place in hopes of finding some floo powder. There was none. What now? He decided that he didn't want to stay in the house, couldn't stay in the house. Back outside he covered himself with the cloak and climbed back onto his broom. He flew up into the night sky. What can I do now? They've killed everyone...I've gotta get to Hogwarts.

Harry pulled out his wand and used the new version of the Four Points spell he had learned earlier that summer. "Point Me Hogwarts," he said, laying the wand flat on his palm. The wand spun for a moment before it pointed to his right. Taking one last look at Privet Drive, he turned away from the destruction and death and headed into the night, wiping away a tear for all those who had died this night... died because of him....

*~*~*~*

The Next Morning, September 1st - Seven o'clock

Nymphadora Tonks had been given the job of picking up Harry to take him to the station. She was picked because she could drive a Muggle vehicle. That morning as she was driving through Little Whinging to Privet Drive she noticed thick black smoke on a couple of streets over. Must be a fire, she thought, as her destination drew closer. The smoke was getting thicker as she approached Privet Drive. She couldn't see the street yet but she knew it was around the next corner.

Tonks made to turn the corner but immediately slammed on the brakes. The street was blocked off with all kinds of emergency vehicles and police barricades. Police, fire and ambulance vehicles were everywhere. She got out of the car and ran desperately over to a nearby fireman. "What happened?" she asked, fearing the worst.

"What's it to you?" he grumbled. The man was clearly exhausted and had a short temper.

"I'm supposed to collect someone from this street," she said nervously. This couldn't be anything else....

"What 'ouse number?"

"Four."

The fireman's face grew dark as he looked back down the street. "I'm sorry," he said, "but that house has been completely destroyed."

"WHAT?" she screamed, grabbing the fireman by the shoulders and turning him around. "What happened?"

"Don't know," he replied. "We think the family at number four may have been experimenting with some explosives or fireworks or something."

"Explo- Wha- Why?"

"Cos' when we got here last night there was this big green skull in the sky above all that's left of number four, which ain't much. It's faded and gone now though. I'm sorry...."

Tonks turned from the fireman and ran back to the car. She started to drive back the way she came, past trucks and curious pedestrians. When she spotted a back alley she stopped. Tonks got out of the car and ran down the alley. She checked for Muggles. There were none. Pop! She Disapparated.

Tonks reappeared almost instantly, hundred's of miles away, outside the Hogwarts castle gates. She ran up to the castle as fast as possible, not stopping until she was at the front door. Pulling it open she ran inside and looked for someone who could take her to Dumbledore, but there was no one there. The castle appeared empty.

"HELLO," she shouted. "ANYONE HERE! HELLO, HEL-"

"Nymphadora?" said Dumbledore who at just appeared at the top of the stairs. "What's all this shouting? I thought you were picking up Harry?"

Tonks sighed with relief and then remembered why she was here. "DUMBLEDORE. Harry- Privet Drive- Dark Mark- Destroyed," she stammered as she tried to catch her breath and communicate what she had seen.

"Quiet," said Dumbledore firmly, his face becoming deathly pale. "Now tell me. What has happened?"

"I- I arrived at Privet Drive t- to pick up Harry like you said but- Oh Dumbledore its gone, half the street was reduced to rubble an- and the fireman told me he saw the Dark Mark above Harry's house," she cried.

Dumbledore descended the stairs, leaving Tonk's where she was. He moved into a nearby classroom and walked into the fireplace, removing some floo powder from a pouch in his robes as he went. "Little Whinging," he said. His world blurred and his ears were filled with a deafening roar. He braced himself for the exit but managed to land gracefully in the living room at Arabella Figg's house.

Dumbledore immediately sensed that something was wrong. And in an instant he spotted what it was. He saw the body of Arabella Figg, rigid in her own armchair, dried blood caked over her. Dumbledore was shaken for a moment. He moved over to the body of Mrs. Figg and closed her still eyes with his hand. He sighed and then looked out the window and saw the destruction of number four Privet Drive.

He collapsed into a chair. All strength leaving him. No he thought, Voldemort had won. He's beaten the old magic... killed Harry... and Arabella. After a few minutes he rose, and stepping back into the fireplace he said somewhat shakily, "Twel- Twelve Grimmauld Place." The world blurred.

Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and into the kitchen of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He saw Remus sitting at the table reading the Prophet, completely oblivious. Lupin looked up and saw him, his werewolf senses detecting something wrong. "Dumbledore," he said warily, "what brings you here, thought you'd be at Hogw-" Lupin looked at Dumbledore again. He thought he looked older and wearier than he had ever seen him. "Ar- are you OK."

"Remus. It's Harry... he's de-" Dumbledore faltered. "He is dead Remus, Voldemort killed him at- at Privet Drive last night."

Lupin stood up and stared at Dumbledore. "No," he said. "Your magic, your protection. It-"

"He beat me Remus. He got past the magic."

Lupin collapsed back into the chair, a feeling of despair welling up inside him. Dumbledore was speaking but he barely heard what he said.

"We have to tell the Order." he said. "But first I must go see the Weasleys. Can I ask you to call the Order here?"

Lupin ignored him. He was thinking about the time that he had helped Harry learn the Patronus charm. About James, he had failed James... and Sirius. He'd promised them both to look after Harry if anything.... "REMUS!" Lupin was shaken back to his senses.

"Hmm? Oh yes Dumbledore. Order- I'll... I'll get them here."

Dumbledore stepped into the fireplace a third time. "The Burrow," he said dropping a pinch of floo powder.

When the world came back into focus, he was standing in the Weasley's fireplace. No one was there. "Hello, is anybody home?" he said as he moved out of the fireplace. He walked around the various rooms on the lower floor of the house. There was no one home. He'd missed them. They must already be on their way to King's Cross he thought.

Dumbledore sighed with exhaustion that he didn't have ten minutes ago; he would let them know later. Right now he had to get to the Ministry, something was wrong. He Disapparated with a small pop.

*~*~*~*

King's Cross Station - 10:53am

"Ron, Ginny, hurry," said Mrs. Weasley. "The train leaves in five minutes."

"Do you see Harry anywhere?" Ron asked his Mum. The four Weasleys were running down the Muggle platform towards the barrier that led to the Hogwarts Express.

"No dear, but I'm sure he's probably already on the platform."

"Probably," agreed Mr. Weasley. "Dumbledore had arranged for Tonks to pick him up."

"Oh, why?" asked Ginny.

"Because it's a lot safer that way." replied Mr. Weasley, as they approached the barrier. "Right. You first Ginny."

Ginny casually leaned against the wall, waited for the right moment... before slipping into it. Ron followed suit, and then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The platform was almost deserted, apart from a few stragglers who hadn't gotten on the train yet, it was empty. No sign of Harry. Ron looked around for him but instead caught sight of Hermione.

"Ron," she called from beside the door of one of the carriages, "over here."

"Hermione," he said walking over. "How you doing?"

"Fine, fine. Where's Harry?"

"He's not here?" asked Ron.

"No... I thought he would be with you, since he's not here."

"He isn't." said Ron, becoming a little worried. "You don't think anything-"

"I'm sure he's fine," said Ginny from behind Ron. "Dumbledore probably just made other plans for him."

"Yeah but what if-"

"On the train now, both of you." ordered Mrs. Weasley who had just caught up. "Oh, hello Hermione."

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley, I don't suppose you know where Harry is?"

"He's not here?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a similar fashion to Ron.

"Dumbledore will have made other plans," said Mr. Weasley, who had just put the luggage on the train. "For Harry's safety and all."

"That's what I said," stated Ginny. The two of them stared a little nervously at each other.

"Now come on, he'll be alright, get on the train." ordered Mrs. Weasley.

"But what if-"

"He'll be fine, Ron," cut in Mr. Weasley. "Now get on."

"Okay...." sighed Ron.

Hermione, Ginny and Ron got on the train, still feeling a little uneasy about where Harry may be. They found a cabin and were soon waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "Bye Mum, bye Dad," shouted Ron and Ginny from the window.

"Goodbye you three," called Mrs Weasley. "Try to stay out of trouble this year."

"Can't promise anything," replied Ron, as the train began to pull out of the station.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley watched the train go until it was out of sight, nothing more than a trail of steam. They turned back towards the barrier and began to walk.

"You think he's alright?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"I don't know," said Mr Weasley after a moments hesitation. "I'm sure we would have heard if he wasn't."

Mrs. Weasley nodded worriedly. The two of them walked in silence the rest of the way, neither putting into words the worry they felt.

*~*~*~*