Harry Potter and the Remnants of the Soul

Chapter Four: For Everything, There Is a Season

On a Wednesday afternoon, eight days before his birthday, Harry walked over to Mrs. Figg's home. Stooping to pet Mr. Tibbles, her pet kneazle, Harry rang the bell. From inside, he could hear the sounds of the batty old woman as she shuffled to the entryway.

"Come in, Harry," she welcomed him after opening the door. As Harry stepped inside, Mr. Tibbles darted between the door and his feet. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Er, sure," Harry accepted grudgingly. He was in no mood to keep her company, but he was here to ask a favor of the woman and figured that being polite was an even trade. Looking around the room, he was surprised to see many of her trinkets packed away in boxes.

"I'm heading to London on Friday," she observed while pouring two cups of tea and setting them each on a saucer. "Would you like me to take you?"

In an effort to appear less surprised, Harry sipped at his tea before answering. "That would be brilliant. How did you know I needed to go?"

"Molly has been awfully worried about you," Mrs. Figg replied. "She asked me to take you down to London when you're ready."

"Well, then, thank you," he said. Gesturing towards two boxes near the stairs, Harry asked, "Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm moving," she answered with a smile. "Albus left me a cottage near Cardiff." She set her tea down and tucked a loose strand of grizzled grey hair back into her hairnet. "I plan to leave this weekend, when you do, but I - I wanted to show you something first ..." She hesitated a moment, then pulled a photo from her apron pocket and handed it to Harry. "Mr.Tibbles... he - he is a very loyal cat." Harry stared with some bewilderment at the photo of the orange and white tabby. There was an, apologetic, almost pleading note in Mrs Figg's voice as she whispered, "We never stopped watching, you know, not in sixteen years."

Harry stared thoughtfully at the old women for a long moment, then nodded slowly. A meowing feline broke the silence, and Mrs Figg straightened up, all business again. "Get out of that, you mangy old thing," she chided the kneazle, which was sticking its flat face into a potted begonia. "That photo will help you get where you're going," she said to Harry. Harry stared blankly, and Mrs Figg chuckled softly. "Look on the back."

A note on the back of the photo said, 'The Weasleys live at the Burrow.' Harry nodded in understanding. "Thanks, Mrs. Figg."

Mrs. Figg carefully took the photo back from Harry. "Now, where did I put my matches?"

---888---

After a meal of roasted chicken with the Dursleys, Harry cleared his throat. "I'm planning to leave on Friday," he said, by way of introducing a new subject.

His announcement was greeted by a moment of silence before Uncle Vernon pounced aggressively, "That Doubledoor's never coming here again!"

Harry glared at his uncle. "No, he's not," he agreed curtly.

"Not those redheads?" probed Aunt Petunia, eyeing her fireplace with some concern.

"No, I've arranged normal transportation."

Uncle Vernon eyed Harry suspiciously. In his experience, Harry Potter had a very different opinion of normal than he did. Freaks were never to be trusted.

For several minutes, glasses clinked, silverware clattered, and Dudley snorted between each bite. When he thought it was safe, Harry bravely resumed the conversation. "You might not want to be here on my birthday. It's probably not safe."

Aunt Petunia paled, but Vernon compensated by turning a lovely shade of puce. "AND WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" he shouted.

"It means, you might not want to be here on my birthday," Harry repeated through gritted teeth. "You heard what Dumbledore said last summer. The protection ends when I turn seventeen."

"THAT'S POPPYCOCK!" Vernon hollered, "NOTHING BUT SCARE TACTICS!"

"No, it isn't," Harry replied in a voice barely above a whisper. "It's gotten really bad. Voldemort's killing people left and right."

"WE'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!"

---888---

On Friday, Harry completed his packing. He had not spoken with any of the Dursleys since supper had descended into a yelling match on Wednesday. As he brought both of his trunks down the stairs, he was grateful that Dudley and Petunia were both out of the house. After sixteen years of living with his relatives, he did not know how to say goodbye.

Harry wasn't sorry to be leaving. He never planned to return, and he wouldn't miss any of them. There was nothing polite to say. Not even to his aunt. Strangely, being out of the house on this particular day was one of the few acts of consideration his aunt had ever shown him.

Still, Harry didn't feel like he should leave without at least letting them know he was gone, and when his aunt returned she would find a napkin on the kitchen table saying, 'Goodbye, Harry'.

Passing the cupboard beneath the stairs, Harry paused a moment. The small, battered door was slightly ajar, but Harry felt no desire to look inside; he had no urge to cling to a memory of the one place in this wretched house where he'd been safe. The door creaked from lack of use as he nudged it closed with his foot. "Good riddance," he muttered bitterly.

---888---

In London, Harry used the Leaky Cauldron's Floo connection to travel to the Burrow. He arrived shortly before supper and was greeted with an earnest hug from Mrs. Weasley, a manly back-pounding from Ron, and a casual wave from Bill, who was sitting on the couch.

"Hey, mate," Ron said with a wide grin. "You're done with the Muggles! How does it feel?"

"Er, good, I guess," Harry replied. He thought about it for a bit longer, and then smiled broadly, "Brilliant, actually."

"Great, we're going to have so much fun this week," Ron exclaimed. "Fred and George are coming home for supper."

Harry's grin spread from ear to ear. "Fantastic."

"Harry, dear, why don't you take those up to Percy's room?" Mrs. Weasley suggested. "The twins will be sleeping here tonight."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied. "Ron, give me a hand with this, will you?" On their way up the stairs, Harry asked, "Is Fleur still here?"

"No, thankfully. Ginny and Mum can't stand her again. Plus, Hermione gets mad at me every time Fleur floats - I mean, walks - into the room."

They reached Percy's room and set the trunks down. "Wedding's still on then?" prompted Harry.

"Three weeks. Fleur and her entire family are coming back in two... and Charlie's coming with them."

"And Gabrielle?" Harry inquired playfully, jabbing Ron in the ribs with his elbow. "How old do you think she is now?"

"She's starting Beauxbatons this year, mate," Ron said with a smirk. "A little young, I think."

Harry laughed with Ron for a few moments before becoming serious. "Hey, when did your dad do the Fidelius?"

"Last month, after the Massacre," Ron replied, his laughter stopping abruptly. "McGonagall and Flitwick taught Bill how to do it."

"It's a good idea."

Ron didn't say anything in reply and wouldn't meet Harry's gaze. So, Harry changed the topic of conversation, "Is Ginny still angry with me?"

"A little," responded Ron. "She doesn't want to be left out."

"We can't bring her."

"I know mate, relax."

---888---

Four days later, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Bill were seated at the kitchen table enjoying a breakfast of eggs and bacon. Ginny was strangely quiet, staring at Harry throughout the meal. Suddenly, she jerked her head up, her elbow knocking the butter plate to the floor.

"Ginny!" scolded Mrs. Weasley.

"Owls!" exclaimed Ginny, "My O.W.L. results!" Sure enough, three Hogwarts owls flew inside through the open window. Ginny rushed to open her letter. Harry slowly untied his post from the owl's leg. He was watching Ginny's face, trying to gauge her reaction to her marks.

She frowned, then smiled, before stomping her foot and swearing underneath her breath.

"Young lady," Mrs. Weasley scolded again. "I'll wash your mouth out with soap."

"Sorry, Mum."

"What did you get, dear?"

"Well," Ginny hedged, "I passed Charms, Magical Creatures, Defense, and Transfiguration with 'E's. I got an 'A' in Runes, Herbology, and Astronomy, but a 'D' in Potions and History. "

Mrs. Weasley grabbed the letter, her eyes widening as she tallied up the subjects passed. "Seven O.W.L.s! My baby girl got seven O.W.L.s! That's just wonderful, Ginny. Oh, just wait until your father sees this! It's high time this family had something to celebrate!"

"I wanted to pass Potions," pouted Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley gave her daughter a hug and poured more milk in her glass. She turned and looked at Ron and Harry. Neither had opened their letters. "Well?"

Ron stared blankly back at his mother. "What?"

"What does your letter say?"

Without thinking, Ron replied, "It doesn't matter."

Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows arched violently. "Why not, Ronald?"

"Um, I mean... Well, I know I'm not going to be Head Boy."

"That's nonsense," she replied, hands on her hips. "Bill and Percy both were."

"Well, I'm not Bill or Percy."

"You're a Prefect and on the Quidditch team."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Mother, give it a rest."

"I'm not Head Boy material," Ron offered lamely. "What does yours say?" he asked Harry.

Mrs. Weasley shot a withering glare at her youngest son.

"Er, let me open it." Harry carefully slit the seal on his envelope. Two shiny metal badges fell out.

Ron picked up one of them and let out a low whistle, "Blimey, Harry. You did it! Congratulations." He breathed on the badge and buffed it against his sleeve before presenting it to Harry. The badge had two large gleaming letters on it; 'HB.'

"Go on, read your letter, Harry," Bill instructed him with a proud smile.

Ron peered over Harry's shoulder. "Daphne Greengrass! She's in Slytherin!"

---888---

Just after supper, the night before Harry's birthday, the Floo flared. Hermione stumbled out, barely keeping her balance.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron both greeted her.

"It's really good to see you," called Ginny with relief. "How was France?"

Hermione handed a small overnight bag to Ginny, who ran off to deliver it to the room they shared. "Good, long, boring, frustrating," she sighed.

"Huh?" asked Ron, confused.

"France was good; I enjoyed myself," she explained. "The trip felt like an eternity, and I ran out of books before the last week. We couldn't find an English bookstore, so the last week was horrible. And my parents are - Completely - Frustrating."

"How so?" inquired Harry. "I thought you got along with them okay."

"I do," she said with a long sigh. "It's just hard to communicate. They don't understand me anymore."

Harry smiled faintly at Hermione and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Who ever does," he said teasingly, and Hermione laughed. Ron stiffened.

Ginny came back downstairs trailed by Fred and George.

"Do you want to play Quidditch?" said Ron loudly, scowling at Harry, who stopped rubbing Hermione's shoulders. Behind Ron, Bill started laughing. "Come on," said Ron, "we can play five to a side if everyone plays."

"Um," Hermione looked like she wanted to say no, but Ron gave her a pleading look. "Alright, just for a bit."

"Wicked!" Ron jumped up. "I'll get the brooms."

After a rousing match of Quidditch, the teenagers were banished to bed by Mrs. Weasley.

"Meet me in my room at midnight," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione. "We need to talk."

For the next few hours, Harry lay in bed watching the hands on his watch rotate. At midnight, there was a slight tapping on his door.

"Come in," whispered Harry.

Ron pushed the door open and eased into the room, "Happy Birthday, mate! I think Hermione's coming. She just stepped on the creaky stair."

A moment later, the door hinge squeaked as Hermione entered. "It's a good thing the ghoul is making so much noise tonight," she said. "I would have woken up the whole house."

Ron sat down on Harry's bed and patted the comforter near himself. Hermione sat down next to Ron and leaned up against him.

"You know how I said Dumbledore left me some stuff?" began Harry.

"What did you get?" Ron asked.

"Books mainly," Harry replied, causing Hermione's eyes to light up. "I've been reading through them all summer. He left some really detailed notes." Pulling a piece of parchment from a book on his nightstand, Harry spread it out on the bed. He then pulled Slytherin's locket from his pocket and put it down next to the paper. "This side is a list of the items that could be Horcruxes, and this is a list of spells we need to learn."

Hermione picked up the page, "Hufflepuff's cup? Slytherin's locket? Nagini? We knew about those. Ravenclaw's wand?"

"Dumbledore mentioned it a few times in his journal. I think it's probably one. But, he didn't leave any clues where it might be."

Ron bent the page towards himself. "Harry, these spells look really Dark."

"Of course they are, Ron," whispered Hermione. "We're dealing with Horcruxes."

"Abrumpo Anima?" asked Ron.

Harry explained, "It severs the soul. After you murder someone, it splits your soul for each murder."

"But we're not making a Horcrux," objected Ron.

Hermione sighed. "No, but we need to know the process."

"They're just notes," Harry said defensively. "We need to know how to tell if an object is a Horcrux and then how to destroy it."

Hermione looked at the parchment again. Taking her wand, she aimed it at the locket, and recited, "Manifesto Anima." The Horcrux glowed red around the hinges.

"Definitely one," observed Ron, excitement creeping into his voice.

Harry glanced at his watch; it was five minutes past midnight. "Should we try?"

"I don't know, Harry," fretted Hermione. "What happens if it doesn't work?"

"We'll just go outside," Ron replied dismissively, eager to get on with their task. "We've done much more stupid things than this."

Harry was anxious to begin their journey, even if they weren't going anywhere. Besides, he was tired of carrying around a piece of Voldemort's soul everywhere he went. Harry could picture himself wearing the locket as a trophy, like Dumbledore had done with Slytherin's ring. Solemnly, he nodded and said, "Let's do it."

Hermione frowned at the two boys but followed them as they crept down the stairs. They went out into the garden. Over the garden shone a small sliver of moon, too weak to provide much light.

"Lumos," Ron whispered, and his wand lit the area.

"Put that out!" hissed Hermione. "You'll wake up the whole house."

"But I can't see."

Hermione snatched Ron's wand away from him, extinguishing the light. Ron was left to glare at her angrily as she waved her own in an intricate pattern, conjuring a swarm of faint blue fireflies.

"There," she huffed thrusting Ron's wand back into his hand.

Harry began intently searching for something on the ground. "What are you doing?" prompted Ron, turning his back on Hermione.

"We need to find a gnome."

"Why?" whispered Hermione, nervously.

"Well," Harry mumbled evasively, "we're gonna need something that's alive."

"Got one!" declared Ron, swiftly nabbing an unsuspecting gnome. He handed the wriggling creature to Harry, and said, "We'll need a tall box, so he can't escape." He conjured one instantly, grinning smugly at Hermione.

"Wait just a moment," objected Hermione, appalled. "Just what are you going to do to that poor gnome?"

"Nothing, hopefully," said Harry. "But if we have to kill it, I'd rather it be a gnome than one of us."

Hermione's face turned red and she opened her mouth, ready to lecture Harry.

"Ssshh, Hermione. It's just a gnome!" Ron exclaimed, evidently bewildered as to why Hermione cared about the dumb little rodent.

"Horcruxes feed off the nearest life source when they emerge from their vessel," Harry explained with more patience. "Dumbledore didn't know this until after he tried destroying the ring. Voldemort's soul started attacking him, and he had to basically kill his arm to destroy the soul fragment. If you're quick enough though, you can destroy the soul before it latches on to anything. That's what I apparently did in the Chamber of Secrets."

"Harry, are you sure this is a good idea?" pressed Hermione.

"No, but we need to do it at some point. Why not now?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to continue arguing, but instead she closed her mouth and went to sit on a picnic table.

Harry knelt down and placed the gnome into the box with the locket. "Stand back."

Harry took a step back and then pointed his wand into the box, "Abrumpo Anima." A dark black mist spewed forth from the locket and condensed on the gnome immediately. Harry panicked and shouted, "Exstinguo Anima!"

The gnome convulsed for a moment and then stopped moving.

"Bloody Hell, I killed it," Harry said.

Hermione came over and peered into the box, "Harry! I thought you said..."

"I wasn't fast enough. Next time, we should use a bigger box and a bigger animal."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth and ran behind the nearest tree.

"It's alright, mate," Ron said, slapping Harry hard on the shoulder. "You did it! We destroyed a Horcrux!"

"Yeah," said Harry, glumly. He could not tear his eyes off the dead gnome.

After a few moments, Ron went to be with Hermione, and Harry heard a murmured, "Evanesco."

Conjuring a stick, Harry crept closer to the box and poked at the gnome. It didn't move. "Manifesto Anima," he muttered. The locket did not change colors.

Harry reached down, picking up the locket and the gnome. Then, he banished the box and walked over to the tree line, pitching the rodent deep into the wooded area. When he returned, Hermione and Ron were sitting on the picnic table again.

Harry silently placed the locket around his neck. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Hermione and Ron followed without a word.

---888---

Five hours later, in a dark alley that connected Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent, a dirty rat with a silver paw emerged from a sewer grate. After sniffing around and pacing up and down the alley for several minutes, the rat transformed into a man and then disappeared with a distinctive crack. Seconds later, a swirling vortex of light and rushing wind deposited nearly thirty Death Eaters in the dark alley.

"Quiet you fools," sneered one.

No one answered the tall Death Eater, but a few continued to whisper amongst themselves.

"Bellatrix, silence!"

The voices stopped, but one Death Eater stuck her tongue out of her mask at the speaker.

Soon, the Dark Lord's servants had taken up positions surrounding Number Four Privet Drive. Notice-Me-Not charms ensured that the neighbors would not hear or see anything. Eight figures in dark robes approached from the front, and another eight came from the back. A dozen more wands were trained on the windows.

"Alohomora."

The front door swung open noiselessly. No door hinge had ever squeaked at Number Four. The team that had entered through the back door checked all of the rooms on the ground floor. The kitchen, parlor, and dining room were empty.

A short man with a silver hand knew to check the cupboard beneath the stairs. Nothing inhabited the cupboard but a few spiders. He stepped on one for good measure.

The second team, which had entered through the front, crept up the stairs. There were three bedrooms and a bathroom. Two Death Eaters stood by each door.

"Now!" whispered the leader.

Four doors crashed open: Two rooms were empty, and two rooms were not.

Three Muggles were captured, bound, and forced to sit on the floor in the master bedroom.

"Where is Potter?" sneered the leader.

"He, he," stuttered Dudley, "he isn't here."

"Where is Potter?" demanded the Death Eater again, jabbing his wand at the walrus-shaped man.

"The freak left!" Vernon declared. "He isn't welcome in our home, and he never was."

"Please, leave us alone," Petunia pleaded.

"When did he leave?"

Vernon Dursley was angry; he knew that these were more freaks. "Get out of my house!"

A woman laughed from the doorway. "The fat Muggle thinks we should leave."

"Bellatrix, you're not helping," the leader replied with a hard edge to his voice.

"I want to," she pouted. "Crucio."

Petunia Dursley writhed in pain and shrieked for help.

"Stop it," Dudley yelled. "He left last week."

Bellatrix removed the curse. Petunia continued to weep noisily.

The hook-nosed leader stood in front of Dudley. "Where did he go?"

"I don't know. He didn't say."

"Legilimens!"

Dudley recognized the sensation from being in the alley with Harry. He panicked, thinking the man was a Dementor. But instead of the worst memories of his life, only memories of the previous summer came to his mind. First he thought about the argument with Harry over using the shower in the mornings. Then he remembered taking a swipe at Harry because he ate one of Dudley's 'extra' sandwiches. Finally, he remembered the supper when Harry and Vernon had fought. Vernon was pounding the table telling Harry that he was just using 'scare tactics.'

The sensation stopped. "He does not know," the Death Eater said evenly.

Bellatrix trained her wand on Dudley, "Crucio."

The leader repeated his actions on Vernon and Petunia. Neither of their memories contained even a clue as to where the Potter brat might be hiding.

Sweeping from the room, his robes billowing behind him, the leader declared, "Just kill them already, Bellatrix."

Three pale green curses claimed the lives of all three Dursleys.

The leader walked down the stairs and stood in the front doorway. "Draco, come inside."

One of the robed figures stood up straight and swaggered into the house.

"Where do you think Potter is?"

"Undoubtedly, he is at the Weasleys' hovel," Draco replied.

"I no longer remember its location."

"You forgot?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I do not forget, young Mr. Malfoy. To be sure, it is the effects of the Fidelius Charm."

"Fidelius Charm?"

"An old discovery of Dumbledore's. It is a concealment mechanism that relies on a Secret Keeper."

"Potter?"

"Not likely. I would surmise that it is probably one of the elder Weasley children."

"Can we break it somehow?" Draco asked.

"Only if we could get to someone who knew the secret."

"The Mudblood and Potter surely know."

"They are well protected," the leader replied. "Does Weasley have any other friends?"

"The giant oaf, Loony Lovegood, and Longbottom," Draco listed. "They might know."

"Longbottom?" a female voice asked. "I have some unfinished business with that family."

Another Death Eater snarled softly in a cold voice, "I will deal with the gamekeeper."

A third Death Eater stepped forward. He spoke in an aristocratic drawl, "Then I will see to the Lovegoods and their ridiculous news rag."

---888---

Harry did not sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, dreamt about shadowy figures, and rubbed at his scar while he slept. In the morning, his door was flung open with a loud bang, and a redhead sat by the foot of his bed.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" stated Ginny, more loudly than was necessary.

"Go 'way," Harry replied.

"Mum's waiting breakfast on you. Can't you smell it?"

As if being reminded that he had a nose, the delicious scents of a Weasley breakfast ensnared his mind. "I'm getting up."

Harry got out of bed and cast about for some clothes. When he glanced at the bed, he grinned and picked up his wand from the nightstand. Giving it a wave, his bed made itself.

"Harry! You wasted it!" Ginny protested.

"What?"

"Your first spell. It's supposed to be special."

Harry looked at her dumbly. "I didn't know." He glanced down at his feet, beginning to feel like he had missed out on something. But then, he realized that it wasn't his first legal spell. The events of last night came roaring back to the front of his mind, and he fingered the cold locket around his neck. "It's alright though," Harry said.

Ginny rolled her eyes and walked out the door. "Mum's waiting on you."

When Harry came down to breakfast, he realized Ginny must have told everyone that he had used his first spell to make his bed. Ron and Hermione both shot him amused looks, but they joined in the ribbing that Harry was taking.

"It's alright, mate," Ron reassured him, "I'm sure Neville will have a good story to tell about his first spell."

"Luna and Neville are coming tonight at six, right?" Ginny asked.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Arthur took the boot over to the Longbottoms' before work."

"Are Fred and George going to come?" Ron wanted to know.

Mrs. Weasley replied, "They'll be late. They have to close up the shop tonight. They asked me to save them supper."

---888---

Walden Macnair, wearing a nondescript grey robe and a pointed black hat, opened the door of Eyelops Owl Emporium. The shop was empty, but the bell on the door rang, and the manager emerged from the back.

"Imperio."

The shopkeeper just stood there looking at the former executioner.

"I have a rare egg," Macnair stated. "It is a Scarlet Mountain Gryffylis. Write the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Tell him to meet me at noon in the Hog's Head inn. Do not mention my name."

Macnair left the store and made his way to the Apparition point in Diagon Alley. With a distinctive crack, he appeared on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, near the Shrieking Shack. Finding a large rock, he cast a glamour upon the stone and tucked it beneath his robes. Macnair then walked to the Hog's Head, where he ordered a double shot of Fire Whiskey and waited.

---888---

The hot July sun shone down upon the stately Longbottom Manor, located on the outskirts of Derby. Neville Longbottom's grandmother, Augusta, was napping in the ancient oak rocking chair, which resided on her verandah. It was strategically positioned so that its occupant could gaze out across the small lake that separated the manor from the nearby villages. Neville had learned to swim in this lake as a child, but he had long since abandoned the practice of summer dips in the cool water.

Rather, Neville was behind the Manor, in his garden, tending to a beautiful crimson and beige larkspur he had been given for his birthday. His Great Uncle Algie first saw the herbal flower overseas and had purchased a seedling for his nephew.

When the first sounds broke the peaceful afternoon still, Neville's hands were embedded in the moist soil. A bag of fertilizer stood nearby, gifting its distinctive odor to the immediate surroundings.

Not wearing his watch, Neville's first thought was that the afternoon had passed more quickly than he realized. The Lovegoods must have arrived, and he was covered in dirt and smelled of dragon dung.

Hoping his Gran would welcome the visitors, Neville dashed inside to use the washroom.

In front of the Manor, a Portkey deposited Bellatrix Lestrange and six other robed figures near the water's edge. Gran Longbottom stirred in her sleep, but she did not wake.

"Kill her immediately," a stringy man advised from beneath his mask. "Augusta Longbottom is a formidable woman. She should not be underestimated."

"Oh, Rio," Bellatrix cooed, "I have experience dealing with Longbottoms. You, my Lord, do not."

"She's a Longbottom in name only," the Death Eater replied. "She was born a Theodoric. Powerful blood is nothing to trifle with."

"Fine," Bellatrix pouted, "but I will play with little Neville."

"As you wish, Bellatrix."

"Riordan, go kill her for me."

The weedy Death Eater nodded his head in understanding. He quietly approached the napping woman. "I apologize, Cousin Augusta," he murmured as he leveled his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" The pale green curse connected with Neville's Gran. Augusta Theodoric Longbottom died in her sleep, a peaceful smile still on her lips.

Inside the house, Neville had quickly changed into a fresh robe. Turning his wand on himself, he muttered, "Purgo Puteo." The smell of dragon dung vanished.

Neville announced, "I'm coming!" as he approached the front door. He imagined his Gran was telling the Lovegoods another embarrassing story from his childhood. However, when he opened the front door, it was to an altogether unexpected scene.

Seven Death Eaters stood in a semicircle around the door. Seven wands were aimed directly at his heart. Neville tried slamming the door on the invaders, but a beefy hand shot out and kept the door open.

"Impedimenta," cackled the voice that haunted Neville's dreams. He panicked as he tried to run from the door. However, Death Eaters circled around him in the time it took to run two incredibly slow steps.

"Hello, little Neville," the nightmare voice cooed. "Have you been a good little boy?"

Neville kept running, so slowly, it was painful. The other Death Eaters were laughing at him now.

One raised a wand and spoke, "Petrificus Totalus." The full body bind gripped him mid-stride, and he fell to the floor, landing on his nose.

A foot nudged at his ribs and then flipped him on his back.

"Don't run, baby Neville," Bellatrix suggested. "I only want to play." She paused for a moment, as if thinking of which game she had in mind. "Crucio!"

Neville writhed in agony on the floor. He would do anything to make the pain stop.

"Where is Potter?" one of the masked attackers demanded.

---888---

In Ottery St. Catchpole, a blonde-haired teen, with a birthday party invitation in her pocket, sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of a cluttered office. In her hands, she held the latest copy of The Quibbler. Her father, Fritz Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler, sat in his chair with his feet up on the desk. He, too, was leafing through a copy of the periodical.

The bell on the door announced that they had a visitor.

"Come in," Fritz called without moving. He wasn't expecting anyone that afternoon, but people frequently stopped in to chat with the friendly news man. His greatest scoops almost always originated from conversations with his visitors.

The door opened and a tall aristocratic man drawled, "Is this The Quibbler?"

Luna reacted quickly. Her hand shot up to her ear and dislodged the wand that was waiting there. "Expelliarmus," she cried.

The spell caught the man, who had not seen Luna, unprepared. His wand flew from his hand, while he was blasted backwards.

"Papa, Death Eaters!" Luna exclaimed.

"Nonsense," Fritz replied, lowering his feet down from the desk.

Several figures dressed in dark robes and masks streamed through the open door. One disarmed Luna and retrieved both wands she had been holding.

"Nonsense," the Death Eater sneered, "is what you print in your rag."

The tall, aristocratic blond reentered the room, snatching his wand from the Death Eater who had retrieved it. "You two are coming with us," he stated as he conjured ropes and bound the captives.

"Mr. Malfoy," Luna observed, "you belong in Azkaban."

This was, apparently, incredibly funny to all but one of the assembled Death Eaters. "We should move along, Lucius. Bellatrix cannot be trusted with the boy."

---888---

The second Portkey of the afternoon arrived at the secluded Longbottom Manor. Like the first, it brought a team of Death Eaters, but this group also had two captives.

Leaving Luna and Fritz Lovegood behind with the other Death Eaters, Severus Snape hurried up to the manor house. Inside, his fears were only slightly assuaged. Neville Longbottom was still alive, barely.

"Bellatrix! Stop this instant."

Bellatrix Lestrange whirled to face Severus Snape. "Why?" she demanded. "I'm having fun."

"We need him alive," Snape sneered. "He is to serve as a decoy. Go play with Fritz Lovegood instead."

Bellatrix smiled broadly at the thought of a new victim and happily went to greet the new arrivals.

Snape studied Neville for a few moments before speaking again. "Draco, I shall require a strand of Ms. Lovegood's hair. Retrieve the girl and her hair."

"Yes, Severus," Draco drawled before trailing after his aunt.

"Longbottom," Snape said in a cold voice. "Where is Potter?"

Neville, blood running from his nose, and drool from his mouth, glanced up at his former professor. He did not answer.

"Legilimens!"

---888---

At the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley directed Ron to take a platter of chicken from the kitchen to the picnic tables. Ron, however, was trying to sneak a dinner roll from the breadbasket.

"Can I help with anything, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.

"No dear, not on your birthday," she assured him while slapping at Ron's hand. He dropped the roll back into the basket.

"Er, I'll just take these out then." Harry picked up the breadbasket while smiling sheepishly at Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Ron proceeded out the door. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry handed Ron a roll.

"I wish Fred and George were here," Ron observed between bites. "We would have enough for five aside that way."

"They'll be here after supper."

"Yeah, but who wants to fly right after a meal?" Ron complained. "Flying on a full stomach is a recipe for disaster."

Ginny was standing next to Hermione by the picnic table when Harry placed the breadbasket down. Choosing a roll for herself, Ginny asked, "When are Neville and Luna coming?"

"In about two minutes," Hermione responded glancing at her watch.

"It will be good to see them," Harry observed. "Do you think Neville got his Apparition license yet? Maybe we could go together."

"We could probably arrange that," Mr. Weasley volunteered from his seat at the far table. He, Bill, Remus, and Tonks were discussing a band of hags that had been arrested selling vials of garlic-flavored holy water as 'vampire repellant.'

Tonks stood up and walked over to Harry. "Wotcher, Harry! Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Tonks."

"So, what spell did you do?"

"He wasted it!" Ginny exclaimed coming up behind them. "He made his bed."

Tonks started laughing hysterically. "You made your bed with your first spell?"

Harry was saved the embarrassment of explaining his choice when a swirling breeze turned into a howling vortex of wind and color. After a brief moment, the Portkey afterwash cleared, and Neville and Luna could be seen dusting themselves off. No one noticed as a rat crawled back into the Wellington boot that had been a Portkey, and the boot disappeared.

"Hi, Neville, Luna," Harry greeted. "Nice landing. I always fall down."

"You would, Potter," Neville replied with a sneer that was out of place on his normally smiling face.

Harry glanced at Ron who returned his incredulous look. "Nev, you alright?" Harry asked.

"I'm perfectly fine," Neville snapped back at him.

Unsure of what was causing the tension, Ron greeted their other guest, "Hi, Luna."

"Hi, Ron," Luna returned flatly.

Hermione, whose mouth had fallen open at Neville's rude behavior, cocked an eyebrow and asked a question. "Luna, what lives in Sweden?"

But, Hermione never got an answer. Instead, Neville and Luna both pulled wands from their robes and aimed stunning spells at Harry and Ron. Simultaneously, the air began to swirl violently. Rainbows of color shot out from the vortex.

Harry dove to the side avoiding the stunner. As he rolled over onto his back, he wrested his wand from his back pocket. When he looked up again, he was stunned to see nearly thirty Death Eaters freshly deposited by the same Portkey that had brought Neville and Luna.

"DEATH EATERS! DEATH EATERS!" someone yelled in a panic.

The Burrow grounds were alive with frenzied movements. Several Death Eaters were picking themselves off the grass, trying to get their bearings. Some took cover behind trees, while others were directing curses towards the party guests.

With a start, Harry realized that Ron had not moved quickly enough to avoid being stunned. He lay on his back a few meters from Harry. "Ennervate," Harry yelled, pointing his holly wand at Ron.

Harry's spell nearly missed his lanky best friend as he was seized from behind by his collar.

"Get behind this table and stay here!" Remus commanded.

A quick-thinking Weasley had overturned both picnic tables, pushing the ends together in a v-shape. The party guests were huddled together on one side of the barrier.

A moment after Harry was dragged behind the tables; Bill reached an arm out to grab at Ron, who was waking up in the middle of no-man's-land. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry realized that Ron was centimeters beyond Bill's grasp.

Without pausing, Bill ducked out from the shelter of the tables to retrieve his youngest brother.

"Ron, come here!" Bill yelled, grabbing him and pulling him backwards.

His shout drew the attention of Antonin Dolohov. The Death Eater raised his wand at Bill and brought it down sharply in a slashing motion while shouting, "Confectoris!"

Before the curse even connected with Bill's torso, Harry recognized the purple flame that had nearly killed Hermione thirteen months before.

As Ron scrambled behind the table, his back turned to the scene playing out behind him, Harry watched with dread as Bill's body fell backwards.

Harry nearly screamed. "Ron, help me!"

The two teenagers were able to grasp Bill's arm and pull him behind the table.

"Check for a pulse," Harry pleaded with Ron.

Mrs. Weasley, who was clutching Ginny to her bosom, saw Bill's prone form and shrieked in horror. "No! No! No!" she sobbed. Releasing Ginny, she scrambled over to Bill.

"He's got a faint pulse!" Ron announced. "Mum, do something!"

With Molly frantically spelling her eldest son, Harry took a moment to glance around at the assembled group behind the picnic tables. Remus, Tonks, and Arthur were having a terse conversation while trying to keep the group from being flanked.

"They're creeping along the tree line," Arthur observed as he shot a stunner over the table.

"We need to call for back up," Tonks said emphatically. The playful woman of moments earlier had been replaced by a stern Auror.

"I'll go," Remus volunteered. "Cover me!"

"Wait!" Tonks commanded Remus. "If you go alone, you'll never make it." Tonks paused a moment and glanced over at Harry. "Harry, Ron, come here," she commanded as she placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Addressing the youngest Weasley, Tonks said, "Ginny, pay attention."

When all four teens were looking at her, Tonks cleared her throat. "If we work together, we can get out of this. You're doing a great job so far, but we need to call the Ministry. Moony and your Dad are going to try and use the Floo at the house. They'll need to get there first. I want you guys to alternate and provide them cover. You all know stunners and the full body bind."

Four heads nodded in response. Remus and Arthur looked on silently.

"Great, petrify anything that moves," Tonks said with a slight smirk. "I'm going to keep them from flanking us."

Leaning in towards Remus, Tonks planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Be safe," she said in a low voice. Then, in her commanding Auror's tone, Tonks declared, "On three. One. Two. Three!"

Remus and Arthur sprinted from behind the tables toward the Burrow. As soon as the two had gone, Tonks knelt down and closed her eyes. Her nose shortened as she concentrated and waved her wand around in a wide circle. Flames shot from her wand to the ground. When she was finished, she opened her eyes to inspect her handiwork.

The ground was now aflame, a magical fire burning in a circle around the remaining six, crouched behind the tables. "That should keep them from coming in for a while and cut down visibility," Tonks observed.

Ginny and Ron stuck their heads and wands above the table. Taking aim, they each cast the Body Bind Curse. In his rush to follow immediately behind them, Harry missed the sheer look of terror on both of their faces as they ducked back behind the table.

When Harry took his turn to shout, "Petrificus Totalus," he froze. He had aimed at the nearest black robe without looking to see whom he was stunning. When his spell was easily batted aside, he searched for the face. It was Voldemort.

_____

Author's Note: This chapter contains references to two other fan fictions. The Scarlet Mountain Gryffylis is Harry's animagus form in Resonance and Revolution by Greengecko. The Purgo Puteo charm is from Lady Alchymia's fabulous Harry Potter and the Emerald Tablet series. Both references are meant as a tribute to these authors. Also, this chapter is dedicated to Greengecko for her great stories.

Author's Recognition: I am simply astounded when I read my own chapters. The improvement from my first draft to this one is truly remarkable. And to be honest, I would never have improved without the extremely patient help of my beta readers... who set a world speed record on turn-around-time for this chapter. Thanks so much to Lady Alchymia, Lisa, and Ivan. I would also like to thank Myles, and Tim Joy (Jeconais) who saw this chapter in its primordial form and offered some excellent feedback. Thanks all.