Harry Potter and the Orb of Slytherin

Chapter 2: New Magic

July 1^st

Harry could, once again, be found in his room upstairs on Number 4 Privet Drive. Well, back in this hell hole again, he thought. Only this time, I don't even have Hogwarts to look forward to. Everyone's dying or dead...except me. He had been so resolute and determined down by the lake at Hogwarts during Dumbledore's funeral. Now, however, Harry was more unsure of himself than ever. How could he ever amount to anything now that the Headmaster was gone? He was starting to wonder if perhaps Dumbledore had too much confidence in him. What could he do? As the Headmaster had put it so delicately in the cave, Harry was no where near the power or cleverness that he possessed. He was just an average wizard. He closed his eyes shut and began to shout at himself on the inside. No I'm not! I'm just allowing myself to believe that. I can be whatever I want, can't I? Am I not the son of James and Lily Potter?

Harry then began to feel very sad. What would his parents say if they saw him wallowing in pity and misery? They stood up to Voldemort. They were brave and well spoken of. Everyone admired them; what would people say about him if he died? Would they say he never lived up to expectations and that, in the end, he was the footstool on which Voldemort once again stepped up as dictator and Dark Lord of the magical world? Harry shuddered to think of giving up. He must trudge on. It's what his parents would have wanted...it's what Dumbledore would have wanted. He was still Dumbledore's man.

The doorbell rang and, as expected, Harry heard Uncle Vernon loudly get up from his lounge chair in the living room, groaning and creaking as he did so, and answer it. He did not expect what followed.

"HARRY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "Get down here!"

Harry rose from the edge of his bed where he had been sitting, opened the door to his room, and traipsed down the stairs. He was met by an angry-looking Uncle Vernon, who had the look of a man who had just been interrupted when he really didn't want to be. At his door was a delivery man who was holding a small brown package. Harry passed his uncle and met with the man.

"Are you Mr. Harry Potter?" the man asked.

When Harry confirmed he was, the man had him sign his clipboard, gave Harry the package, and went on his way. Harry turned to go up the stairs, when Vernon stopped him with a question.

"So does this mean you're not using that ruddy bird of yours anymore?" Vernon ventured inquisitively. Harry knew he was hoping beyond hope. He was very glad he was able to give his uncle an answer he was not looking for.

"No. I'm not even sure what this is," Harry replied to his uncle. Vernon scowled once again, turned on his heels and walked resolutely back to the living area, mumbling something about July 31^st.

Harry turned and climbed back up the stairs, but he slowed almost to a stop when he saw who the package was from: Albus Dumbledore. Harry was unsure how to approach opening the package he held. Was it some kind of mean joke? Was it dangerous? How could this possibly be from Dumbledore?

He finally made it to his room and sat down on his bed. For a long time, he stared intently at the package he held in his hands. Somehow, Harry knew it was from the late Headmaster, but he was unsure if he was ready for its contents. The need to know what was inside outweighed his fears, however, and Harry ripped open the package and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. He opened it and his eyes fell on an insert - it was a letter from Dumbledore. Harry trembled slightly as he read it.

Dear Harry,

It breaks my old heart that you are reading this, because it means I am gone. I made arrangements for this to be delivered to you by Muggle mail should anything ever happen to me - that's me...always prepared for what troubles may come our way. It is one of the great things about being a genius as I was.

Harry, these are dark and difficult times and I had always feared the hatred in this world would consume you as it has done to countless others, but you have found a way to overcome all the obstacles that you have confronted in your lifetime and turned into a marvelous young wizard and, I daresay, one of the finest students I have ever had the privilege to teach. You have a great gift Harry - the gift of being able to love. You ask yourself what good it does you, but I believe that the power you have makes you strong and able. Once you have learned to fully utilize all you have available to you, Harry, there is no one who can tell you what you can or cannot do.

This notebook I set aside for you is your final lesson, in a sense. I offer you magical knowledge and know-how so that you can prepare for your destiny. Remember, Harry, that you make your own decisions. Those decisions, however, are different, because they affect so many of the people around you. Take care of them. I know you can save the world; just remember to love.

Your Man,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry finished reading the letter, but read it again, because it seemed unreal. As his mind was whirling, something inside the packaging Harry had cast aside caught his eye. Dumbledore had placed other items inside the bundle along with the notebook. It was an Every Flavor Bean and a small object resembling a key. The long, thin instrument had what looked like a phoenix emblazoned on the end.

Harry didn't have a clue what they were for, so he turned his attention back to the rather slim notebook and began flipping through the pages, his mind still dwelling on the professor's last words to Harry. Dumbledore believed he was powerful. Harry understood now that it wasn't the talent that necessarily defined a truly powerful wizard - it was the dedication and capacity to overcome in difficult times - to overcome and become better because of it.

Harry turned to the first page of the notebook. It was in Dumbledore's writing and seemed to be full instruction on how to make things disappear and then how to make them reappear. He had watched the professor many times make comfortable chintz chairs and various other objects appear at his whim. They had begun learning this kind of magic the previous year, but to no degree that Dumbledore always used it - Harry had always thought it was an amazing piece of magic. Harry pulled out his wand, with the intent to practice right away. He was going to master this notebook, even if it took everything in him to do so. He was not worried in the slightest about doing underage magic. Just let them try to stop Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, from doing magic in these dark times.

* * *

July 9^th

As Harry zoomed silently through the night sky on his broom, he balanced the giant book on the handle and opened it. Harry discovered it was a spellbook. The page he turned to was a curse that, when uttered, would make the person who was cursed think he was worthless and lose his will to live - Desiditrium arbitratus. It was a very difficult incantation and Harry knew immediately it was a very advanced book of the Dark Arts. It was also very old, as the cover had started to peel away over time. He had in his possession what could only be a lost set of spells and curses, for if Voldemort wanted it, it was probably extremely dangerous, as well as powerful. He was drawing nearer to Privet Drive, completely absorbed in the book, when he saw the light in his room was on. The Order must have been alerted to his flight from Grimmauld Place. He quickly vanished the book and hoped it wasn't Mad-Eye who was sent to look for him at his uncle and aunt's house. If this were the case, he may have already seen the book Harry had in possession.

Harry alighted on his windowsill and dropped into his room. He looked around and his eyes quickly fell onto Hermione sitting in a chair in a corner of the room. She, at first, looked alarmed. She had tearstains running down her face, and she was holding what appeared to be an envelope. Harry realized she looked startled and remembered he still had his shrouding charm in place and a snake on his shoulders. He let Worthwhile crawl down his arm onto his desk and started towards Hermione, before looking at an alarmed Hedwig in her cage. His trusty owl must have known he would be heading to Privet Drive instead of back to the Order Headquarters. He hesitated and then looked at both of the animals.

"Behave you two," he told them. He thought he saw Hedwig glare at him before she turned her attention back on the snake, which slithered about the desk, taking in his surroundings. Harry turned to Hermione, giving her a sympathetic look, before he pulled out his wand and whispered the incantation to take off the shrouding charm while pointing his wand at his face. He lowered his hood and then took up a place on his bed that was a foot across from where Hermione was sitting, looking perturbed at what she had witnessed.

"Wow, Harry," she whispered. "You've really become powerful. It's hard not to feel I may not know you as much as I thought I did."

"You know me better than anyone, Hermione. I'm sorry if I scared you," Harry said with a little apprehension. He assumed Hermione had a lot to say so he prepared to just listen, but he was not expecting her first three words.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she choked. She got up and Harry slowly rose to meet her. She put her arms around him and slightly sobbed. "You're right. I have been so short with you and with Ron and with many people for that matter. I don't know why I said what I did. I mean if anyone is to blame for Dumbledore's death, it's me!"

"Hermione!"

"If only I had believed you when you kept going on about Malfoy! How could I treat you that way?" Hermione had fully started to cry. "I completely rejected w-what you were saying. If I had helped you instead of constantly p-putting you down, maybe--"

"Hermione, listen to me," Harry took her in his arms and hugged back. "Snape and Malfoy are the ones at fault here. They are and no one else. We can't blame ourselves for the evil inflicted on us by others. I've had to learn that the hard way and I don't want you to have to go through that the way I have. How could we have known?"

"But I was t-terrible to Hagrid as well! And Ron! What reason did I have to be so short and uncaring with them? I could have found a way to take Hagrid's class. I could have been more understanding with him about Aragog. I was selfish and it was all because of this stupid boy business. I put off what really mattered to make sure I was protecting myself."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing... nevermind. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Harry wished Ron could have been there with them too, so that they could all have a little closure concerning this matter, but he knew Hermione needed this. He squeezed her tightly, letting her know all was forgiven. He didn't have the strength to harbor a grudge against a friend, especially his best friend. He didn't want to.

The door suddenly opened and Ron and Ginny both walked in. They stopped short when they saw Harry and Hermione in their embrace. In the past, Harry would have quickly let go for fear of people thinking what they shouldn't. He was past that, however. He loved Hermione and a hug was something he would never be afraid of anymore. He let go of Hermione, keeping his left hand reassuringly on her shoulder, and turned to the two Weasley siblings with a slight smirk.

"You guys should be glad you weren't caught breaking in here, especially when there are three of you."

"Well, we tried getting in through your window," Ron retorted, coming over to where Harry and Hermione stood. "But we discovered your window has a charm that kept it shut. Now I wonder how that got there! Not even Hermione could break through it!"

Harry put his other hand on Ron's shoulder and smiled. "I told you I was getting better. Dumbledore's notebook is fantastic. I just wish it had more. I mastered all his spells in a week... well, except one that is."

"Yeah, you're kind of scaring us, mate," Ron chuckled. "None of us can make things vanish like you can. Hermione can make small things disappear, but even then, she needs to concentrate."

"I could have figured out how to break the spell on the window had I not been outvoted into just breaking in through the front door!" Hermione folded her arms and harrumphed at the thought she was beaten by Harry's cleverness. This time was different though and Harry and Hermione both knew it. It was playful rivalry now and Hermione didn't hide in her tone the fact that she was proud of Harry's abilities. Harry turned to whisper something in Hermione's ear that made her frown and then roll her eyes and giggle.

"That's it? All I had to do was ask the window to open? You know, don't think that just because you're becoming so powerful, you can be so ornery!" she continued to giggle in spite of her lecture.

Ginny frowned slightly and finally spoke up: "Harry, the Order was worried when you left. When anyone else storms out of that building, it's one thing. When you do it, it's another. There was almost a panic. Dad finally calmed the people inside down, but only when Fred came over saying he saw you walking down Diagon Alley did things finally become more ordered."

"I'm sorry. At the time, I was just too harried to do anything but run," Harry said calmly. Hermione stopped giggling and suddenly became very somber again. "Let's go back. I don't really want to stay here another moment if I have to. Grimmauld Place is my home now."

Ron and Ginny started on down the stairs, talking about how much trouble they were going to be in for leaving as well. Harry, after he had gathered up Worthwhile and let Hedwig out of her cage to fly back, had started to follow, when Hermione stopped him.

"Harry, I really am terribly sorry. I know you've forgiven me, but I just need you to know that what I said wasn't from me. It was from a monster that had grown inside of me, allowing me to become really bitter to you when you really didn't deserve it... especially not from a friend."

Harry turned to her, alighting his brilliant green eyes on her now small, sad form. He put his hand on her chin and lifted her eyes to his. "Hermione, you've been with me through thick and thin. Friendships aren't perfect, but what you and I and Ron have is as close as it comes. We fight sometimes..."

"Some of us more often than not," Hermione interrupted with a flick of her eyebrow.

"Yes... some of us more often than not, but we've stuck through it and we're still here. I won't let go. I can't, because what I have is far too valuable to give up simply because of silly outbursts. What you said hurt very much, it's true, but I know it wasn't the Hermione I know, so let's move on and try not to say those things that hurt the most. We're better prepared and, I think, even better friends now, so perhaps what you said is a good thing, in a way."

"Perhaps we can begin this newly strengthened friendship with the story of how you acquired a snake within about the last six hours."

"Perhaps," Harry said winking.

Hermione sighed as she turned toward the doorway. She hesitated, then crumpled up the envelope in her hand and threw it in the wastebasket next to Harry's desk before walking out. Harry followed her, but not before looking back into the empty room. He stood in the quiet of the place for a moment, thinking of the strange events that always transpired simply because of who he was and what he needed to do just to keep his sanity or even stay alive.

What would it have been like to have that bedroom I imagined? Would it be full of ordinary things like Ron's? Would Ron and Hermione still be my best friends? Where would I be had I not been that boy chosen to defy Voldemort?

He turned off the light, closed the door, and joined his friends at the bottom of the stairs as they prepared to go back to Grimmauld Place. Harry would be back soon - the reading could wait a little while longer.

* * *

July 8^th

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid stood standing in the early morning in front of the charred remains of a house that had burned long ago. There were wooden beams and window shards and black walls here and there, but it might as well have been like any other deserted ruin. Harry walked among the wreckage taking in everything.

"This would have been where the front door was," Ron said, looking closely at Harry's picture book. "You can tell because of the stone steps here."

"So, I'm standing in the hallway leading to the kitchen and the stairs would have been right here," Harry replied.

"That would be where he came in an' faced your dad," Hagrid said sadly.

They were slowly walking around, putting the pieces together from pictures and firsthand accounts of Harry's childhood house - a plot on the edge of Godric's Hollow. It was a small town in the west that was quaint and rather nice, despite its history. Large trees dominated the area, surrounding the land that Harry learned from Mr. Weasley still belonged to him according to the landowners' department at Gringotts.

Harry wandered about, thinking to himself. He wondered what could have been had it not happened. He wondered what his room would be like if he still lived in the house he was standing in the middle of. His heart was pounding just thinking about everything. He closed his eyes. All the visions or dreams he had of that night came rushing back. He could see his father dueling with Voldemort - he was sure he would have given him a hard time, just like Dumbledore. He could see him suffering under Voldemort's inevitable post-victory torture. He could see him die; he could see the taunting and murderous look in Riddle's eyes as it happened; then, a quick flight up stairs, a command to a cowering and crying Lily; a green flash and nothing.

The defining moment in recent wizarding history stood on the brink. A sneer and a curse uttered with unbridled confidence. End. An explosion of power sent seventeen years into time only to come back to its source... its foundation. A scar on his forehead and green eyes like the color of the curse that changed the world in a fiery clap of thunder - a reverberation that brought the house down and would have claimed the one good result of all its devastation had it not been for a large, lumbering, kind-hearted half-giant. One moment in time, one moment that broke the very fundamental base of the entire wizarding world, one scream, one explosion.

Harry opened his eyes, shivering under the weight of his own thoughts. He looked down to his feet. He was standing in the very center of a circle that seemed to have been carved into the ground; Harry instantly knew what it was.

"That there, is where it happened," Hagrid said, putting his giant hand on Harry's shoulder. "See the ground? People have tried ter remove all the rubble, tried ter remove this giant reminder of what happened here but they can't do it. They say the ground is cursed and have left it alone. The explosion was said to have been heard miles round. After it happened, people were surroundin' the place and everythin' was on fire. I happened ter be on me way to visit. Lucky thing too, cause I jus' managed to find you an' your parents and pull them outta there. There wasn' much left of You-Know-Who, but I knew he wasn' dead - I could jus' feel it."

Hagrid began to cry as he continued. "I was a right mess. I had yeh all bustled up in my arms, yur parents dead and people startin' ter come down the road! I was in right straights! I was still thought ter be the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets! If people saw me with the Potters dead on the lawn...well, les' just say I had ter act quickly. Luckily, Sirius comes flyin' down the road on his motorcycle. Poor Sirius, he was worse than I was. It was always hard fur me ter believe he had turned yur parents over to the You-Know-Who."

A tense, silent moment blanketed the four of them as they stood looking down and taking into context what they were hearing. Ron put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, which he was silently thankful for.

"Hagrid," Hermione finally spoke up. "All the books I've read on Harry have said there was a great celebration the next day, and from what Harry has told us, that was the day you came and gave him to Dumbledore. What happened the whole day you had him with you? Why did it take so long for you to get him to Dumbledore?"

"I was hidin'! I couldn' apparate nowhere and the only help I could get outta Sirius was his lendin' me his bike, which was a big sacrifice for him, let me tell you! No one knew who the Secret Keeper fur the Potters was except the Potters, but we all assumed it was James' and Lily's very best friend. Remus was possible, but we all figured on young Sirius, so he was a marked man. He knew many people would want ter flay him alive, plus he wasn' all there at the moment anyways - just devastated he was. I took Harry with me and hid until I heard from Fawkes, as hard as that was bein' as big as I am. I didn' know if You-Know-Who's Death Eaters would be lookin' fur Harry. Professor Dumbledore finally found me, Fawkes' note said Number 4 Privet Drive, and that brings us ter what we all already know."

"What did Sirius do?" Harry asked, looking up into the teary-eyed Hagrid's face.

"He hid in the woods over there," Hagrid said pointing to a thick growth of trees. "Once everyone had gone, he buried Lily and James. Then, he went into hidin' himself."

"My parents are buried in those woods?" Harry asked solemnly, looking to where Hagrid had pointed.

"Yeah. They had a right nice grave put up later on, when we were all able ter see them off proper."

Harry instantly walked towards the woods. Ron and Hermione began to follow, but Harry stopped them. "Please..." he said softly. "Just a few moments... for myself." Ron and Hermione stood back and let Harry continue.

Entering the woods, Harry didn't feel sad or angry, but he did feel alone. He doubted whether that would have changed had Ron and Hermione accompanied him. The woods were full of very large trees that towered over him, making him feel small. Finally the trees broke and in a small clearing, Harry saw the grave of his parents. Side by side were two white Marble blocks, as brilliant and bright as if they had just been put up. On top of each was a gracefully carved eagle in mid-flight, their mouths open as if shrieking; their eyes, though white, were full of glory. It was a beautiful sight and Harry sunk to a knee, his legs failing him.

"I'm here Mum... I'm here Dad," he cried, tortured. "I've seen visions of you, I've seen shadows of you, I've seen you in mirrors and in smoke and in spell, but I have never truly seen you...I never will. Can I never escape what I have never seen? Will I shake off this past that everyone has knowledge of except me?"

Harry closed his fist in anger and pain and sorrow - the haunting glimpse of what was right out of his reach clinging to its last grip on Harry's heart. When will I have the future that I choose? When will my destiny not be so plain...so obvious to everyone...so spelled out to me? Will it only come on the wings of victory or throes of defeat to the accursed Lord Voldemort?

A loud screech broke Harry's thoughts and he looked up at the two tombstones. The eagle on James Potter's grave was moving! It was standing and ruffling its feathers, but it was still completely white stone. Then, another screech and Lily Potters' moved as well. It broke from its pose and turned in circles as if taking in its surroundings. They noticed Harry and looked at him as if analyzing him...almost as if they were making sure he was who he was. The two stone birds then looked at each other and gave a sort of nod. They then took flight into the air, soaring up in the tree tops. Harry stood up, reeling from what was happening. He watched the two birds fly in circles above him.

After a few more seconds, the birds took a dive and started coming back down at a rapid speed. Harry stood rooted, but feared they would crash where he was standing. They did not crash, however. Instead, once they neared the ground, they leveled out and began circling around him at a rapid speed. They soon were flying so fast that they were a blur and the wind they produced picked up the dirt and turned it into a cyclone, with Harry right in the middle. He looked up and saw a bright light, like lightning, begin to gather in a blue sphere of intense radiance. He then heard a clear voice echo from the whirlwind.

"Take this, son. Take what I have."

"And this!" came another softer voice. "Take it and be strong. Be courageous and never give up!"

"Mum? Dad?" Harry shouted, turning in circles, trying to find where their voices came from, but seeing nothing. Suddenly, the great gathering of light stopped and hovered for a second before ripping to the ground, smothering Harry in unbelievable warmth. It was one of the most amazing feelings Harry had ever experienced - he basked in the intense luminary, feeling more energetic than he ever had in his life. When it was over, and the tornado abruptly ended, he felt absolutely wonderful. It was a final blessing from his parents - an approval; they had prepared for his return. He didn't know how he knew it, but he did. Tears were streaming down his face as he finally finished his first visit to his parents' grave.

"Harry! Are you alright?" Ron shouted, running up to where Harry stood. "What's going on here?"

"It's alright," Harry said smiling, wiping his tears away. "It's all okay." The stone eagles flew to their respective tombs and froze into their original poses as Hermione joined them and watched. "My parents are dead, but their spirits are not. I see that now. They just needed to remind me I always have them." He said putting his arms around his friends as they walked back to Hagrid. "I won't ever let that go."

* * *

December 23^rd

Looking at his reflection in that glass, Harry saw a hollow image of what he once was. It reminded him of how Sirius looked when he first came face to face with his godfather. Harry hadn't quite gone the way of hell, but he looked tired and sorrowful. He was glad to be back. He missed his friends so much. He sacrificed a lot and he began to wonder if it was worth it. The look on Ron and Hermione's faces was enough to tell him they were sad, angry, tired and scared all at the same time.

Harry didn't come out of his travels with only negative aspects, however. He was now a much leaner and stronger man that when he had left that fateful day. His shoulders were broader and while he was still slim, his physique had changed into a mature and muscular build that would easily intimidate any adversary. Harry's magical abilities were now enormously amplified - so much so that it frightened him at times. He had an aura about him that would be unforgettable to anyone who had the misfortune of looking into his now dark green eyes when he was not in the mood to be trifled with. What Harry regretted most was what he sacrificed to become as powerful as he was. He was a Dark Arts user. He was a killer.

He looked at Hermione. She knew more than the rest. How did she deal with the fact that she got to see Harry before the explosion? Did she think it was her fault? Was she angry with Harry for leaving as he did? Did his actions affect anyone else in the Order? Worst of all, did they all believe him to be dead? He struggled to keep a grip on himself. He had to decide what to do; he had thought about the situation enough. It was time for action.

It was time for action. How those words haunted Harry. When did he suddenly become such a man of action?

"I know what you are thinking, Harry," hissed Worthwhile, who also was looking inside the house. "Do what needs to be done. They will be glad to have you back, no matter what."

"I know... I know. I'm just scared about the decisions I've made. Even your own words affect me. Do what needs to be done. I did what needed to be done back on that night, but now I'm not so sure it was the right decision."

* * *

July 24^th

"So, you got off, just like that?" Ron raised his wand, panting, and looking incredulous.

"Just like that," came Harry's reply, raising his own wand in response.

He and Ron were dueling in the large basement at Black Manor. They had been at it for almost an hour now and, while Harry was dominating, Ron was quickly getting better and better. Hermione and Ginny were nearby, half-watching and half-talking to each other about how the boys were doing. Harry had been summoned to the Ministry because of his recent taking to practicing underage magic; as they faced off, Harry was relating in between spells how his trip to see Minister Scrimgeour went. They stopped dueling and went to go rest a bit as Hermione and Ginny got up to have a go.

"So let me get this straight," Ron said in between breaths and drinks from his water bottle. "Even though you've been doing magic outside of Hogwarts as an underage student for two weeks now, they aren't going to do a thing to stop you - and it's all because you told them they wouldn't?"

"Pretty much. Don't get me wrong, I have respect for the Ministry's authority, but I have plans and waiting around for my birthday wasn't on the agenda. I told them that if they wanted to stop me from doing magic, they could snap my wand and tell the wizarding world that they were going to tell the Boy Who Lived that he couldn't do magic. I hated using that card, but I'm tired of their nonsense; besides, that wasn't the real issue the Minister had in mind. I have a feeling Scrimgeour really thought he'd have me in his hand in the end, especially with Dumbledore gone."

Ron laughed, thinking it was the funniest and greatest thing that had ever happened. "Wow, you've got some guts man. If I told a ministry official something like that, not to mention the Minister of Magic, Dad would have my head. Of course, you're right though, aren't you? What can they do?"

They were interrupted by the door opening and Molly Weasley entered.

"Harry, Hedwig has just sent you an Owl," she called out after spotting Harry. Then she stopped and scrunched her nose. "Oh goodness gracious! That smell is absolutely putrid! You children need to go take a shower!"

"Mum, I am of age now! I will decide when I need a shower or not!" Ron shot back angrily.

"Yes well tell that to your armpits!" Mrs. Weasley raised her wand and said, "Aether Viriditas" Harry instantly noticed the change in the room. It smelled fresh and clean, even though nothing had visibly changed. All the odors in the room were completely gone.

"Anyways, Harry, she seems pretty bent on making sure you read it right away."

Before Mrs. Weasley could get another word in edgewise, Hedwig flew into the room and landed on Harry's knee, stretching her leg out so Harry could detach the small scroll.

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley turned. "I need your help in the kitchen please."

"I'll be up in a second mum."

"No, now. It's urgent. I wouldn't have even come down had Hedwig not constantly been pecking at my head, but now that I'm down here, I need help and Ron is of age now so you are who I have left. It will only be a minute."

As Ginny ranted and raved on her way upstairs, Hermione joined Harry and Ron as they opened the scroll and read.

Harry,

If you want to know what Dumbledore didn't, meet me at the Three Broomsticks alone at 7 o'clock tonight. We have a common enemy, but do not take me lightly.

R.A.B.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other inquisitively.

"Aren't those the same initials as on that note that was in the fake horcrux locket?" Ron asked.

In lieu of a response, Harry got up and walked towards the door, shutting it. He turned to Ron and Hermione and paused a moment before walking back towards the place they were sitting.

"This is it. It's the beginning of our adventure," Harry said ominously, but with a slight smile on his face. "I had a feeling things would take a turn for us eventually. This letter says I need to come alone, but this fellow is going to learn I come with two friends by my side... as long as you both still want to risk it."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and gave a half-grin, half-grimace and put their hands towards Harry. He joined theirs in the middle and looked at his two friends. Harry was moved by the two people in front of him; he knew that both Ron and Hermione were well aware of the sacrifice they were making and that they sensed it could lead to their own deaths - but they were there for him despite the fact. They would be by his side... no matter what.

In that moment, a humming noise began to emanate quietly from the embrace of their hands - each of their arms was turning an almost angelic blue color and their hands began to shine like the light from a thousand fireflies. They shielded their eyes, unable to look directly at it, but they didn't let go either; Harry somehow felt in his soul that what mattered right now was to hold on as tight as possible, even though he didn't know what was going on. He caught a glimpse of Hermione, who was unable to look at the light that was just then beginning to pulsate from their hands. She didn't understand what was happening either.

The glow had soon completely flooded the entire room and their hands began to vibrate violently, but Harry's grip remained tight and his two friends responded in kind, even though all three of them were now starting to become fearful.

Then, it happened. There was a silent blast and the room bent and groaned as if immense pressure was forcing the walls outward. Then, a reverse effect somehow set off and they watched as the light was suddenly sucked back towards them as if their bodies were a black hole. Harry stared awe-struck as every particle of light was suddenly sucked back in - he felt it go through his arm and spread through his body, collecting completely in his heart - he could see that the same was happening to Ron and Hermione. The moment it was over, they released their hands quickly and backed away; they were breathing heavily and each of them were ready to keel over.

"What the hell just happened?" Ron gasped.

"I don't know," Hermione answered, very shaken up. However she also looked energized and vibrant. They all did. "But, I liked it! It happened as we made our silent pact - I think we may have invoked some kind of ancient magic!"

Harry took Hermione's words into consideration. It was definitely some kind of magic that he had never heard of, and if Hermione didn't know about it, then there probably weren't many who had. He felt wonderful inside...it was as if he was on his broom again, catching the snitch for the Quidditch Cup. He chuckled to himself. Another item tacked onto a long list of experiences I'll never forget. There's nothing that could break our friendship apart.