Old Moon Fades

Old Moon Fades

By Taigan

Prologue

The air crackled with anticipation and telltale lightning flashed ominously as a storm raged outside the Hog's Head. Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway several feet from the table he'd abandoned only moments ago. His mind was racing and his heart hammering wildly as he struggled for some semblance of composure. Sibyll Trelawney sank down into her chair almost grudgingly, her eyes glazed over as if witnessing some distant turmoil. He had not expected this and he was not one to be surprised. When she'd applied for the position of Divination Professor he'd intended to come to the Hog's Head and politely deny her request. They had been chatting politely enough and said their good-byes. He was on his way to the door when he spun around and stared in complete astonishment as Sibyll Trelawney rasped out the prophecy that would one day shape the destiny of the wizarding world. Her body slammed back into her chair and her fingers clawed madly at the table sending the abandoned tea service crashing to the floor.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Dumbledore walked back toward their small table and let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His brain struggled to form coherent thoughts as it attempted to wrap itself around this monstrous development.

"A child will be born with the ability to defeat Voldemort? A CHILD?!"

This did not make sense! The entire Ministry of Magic, a team of highly trained Aurors, and all the members of the Order had been hugely unsuccessful in even locating Voldemort and tracking down known Death Eaters. How could a child, a baby at that, possibly manage what he could not? But his reverie was interrupted as she began to speak once again, but not in the harsh tones she had used during her first prophecy. This time she was speaking in an almost hushed voice, her eyes piercing Dumbledore's as she whispered out the second prophecy, the prophecy that in the years to come would remain as much of a secret then as it was now.

"The fate of our world is divided in two.

What once was old will again be new.

Black and White will become Grey,

The Grey to be reformed like clay.

In the deepest dark a spark is born,

Though it's true his heart is torn.

What will be lost will come again,

Though it will be where it had not been.

As the old moon fades into the new,

The Half-Blood Prince is crowned askew..."

Chapter One: The Calm Before the Storm

Harry lay on his bed in his room at the Dursley's, staring vacantly up at the ceiling. He had no idea how long he'd been like that. The Dursley's seemed to sense that it was in their best interest to stay away from him and they did. For three days he hadn't seen them, coming out of his room only in the safety of night to fetch enough food to survive the next day. He didn't want to fill his belly any more than he wanted to fill the ache he felt like a large gaping hole in his heart. Dead. Sirius was dead and Harry was all alone in the world. He wished he had never met Sirius, he wished that he had never known what it could be like to have family. Real family. A family who loved him and worried about him. He wished that he had never been born. Maybe then his parents wouldn't have died. Sirius would be alive, and Neville Longbottom could be the one worrying about becoming a murderer. Or worse, a victim. Part of him longed for Voldemort to fulfill the prophecy and just kill him, end his pain. He wished that he could just be numb.

Harry watched the play of shadows and sun on the walls of his room. He had watched the sun come up that morning, filtering brightly through the blinds he had tried so hard to close. And now he watched as the sun went down, his room slowly darkening in the dwindling twilight. Faintly he heard voices down the hall. Dudley lumbered his massive bulk down the stairs. The front door slammed loudly a few seconds later. He didn't know where Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon were. He didn't care.

The phone rang. Shrilling it rang again. And again. Obviously they weren't in the house as Aunt Petunia always answered the phone on the second ring. Harry hoped whoever was calling would just hang up. They didn't. After several minutes of continuous ringing he gave up and went to answer it. It was Hermione.

"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly. "I just wanted to see how you are doing." There was no response. "Harry, please I want to talk to you about this."

"I don't feel like talking, Hermione. Just leave me alone."

"I'm worried about you. We all are. I tried calling yesterday but your Uncle said that you wouldn't come out of your room. He said he hadn't seen you in days," she sounded close to tears and for some reason that made Harry even more angry.

"I said I don't feel like talking and I don't," He moved to hang up the receiver.

"Harry, you have to talk about it soon. I know that you are upset about Sirius dying..." He didn't let her finish and slammed the phone down with a bang.

A few seconds later it rang again. He pulled the cord from the wall and smiled hollowly in satisfaction at finally shutting Hermione up.

Harry stalked into the kitchen, glad to be alone. He slammed the refrigerator door loudly after retrieving a half-eaten crust of sandwich and a glass of milk. In the driveway he heard a car door slam. He walked woodenly back up the stairs toward his room, shutting the door as his aunt and uncle came into the house.

* * *

Ron sat at the kitchen table with his elbows resting on the worn surface, his hands gripped tightly around the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. Abruptly he threw it across the room earning a cluck of disapproval from his mother but no further scolding. Ginny bent to retrieve it as Ron dropped his forehead to the table and clenched tiny fistfuls of hair in his hands. Ginny sat down quietly next to her brother and skimmed the article she already knew by heart.

PRISON OUTBREAK! DEATH EATERS ESCAPE AZKABAN!

Below the headline were several pictures. The one that called out most to her was that of Lucius Malfoy's sneering face. He haughtily posed as if he had spent the duration of his imprisonment sipping fine wine at a villa in southern France instead of in Azkaban Prison. His face haunted her and she knew that Ron was scared too. They all were. It had been less than a week since they had returned home from Hogwarts. It seemed so long ago that they had all marched into the Ministry of Magic intent on freeing Sirius. So much had gone wrong that night. They had all spent time in the hospital wing after that. It seemed the only thing Madam Pomfrey hadn't been able to heal was her heart. Ginny shook her head. She knew what she was getting herself into when she told Harry that she was going too. She knew when she had first gone to the D.A. meetings. It had been inevitable. Whatever connection Voldemort had with Harry was strong. Ginny didn't understand it but she recognized that at least. And Harry was her friend, her brother's best friend. He was almost like family. No, she couldn't say that honestly, Ginny admitted to herself. She didn't think of Harry as a brother, but she would as long as he thought of her as Ron's little sister. The mere thought was crushing; no, not anymore, she'd moved on long ago. That didn't mean she still couldn't hope there was a future between them, but not now. Not when everything was falling apart. Harry had too much to deal with, what with Voldemort, Sirius' death, and whatever had actually been in that bell jar in the Department of Mysteries... No, she wouldn't pressure him or even let him know how she truly felt. Not now. Maybe when all of this was over. If it was ever over.

Ginny glanced at Ron. He had scrambled around for some parchment and a quill and was furiously writing a letter to someone. Hermione probably. Ginny knew that Ron cared for Hermione even if he didn't realize it himself. He was now shouting for Pig who zoomed into the room within seconds eager to help.

"Pig, take this to Hermione as fast as you can. Don't come back without her response!"

Ginny frowned. Until that moment she hadn't realized how much more danger Hermione was in than the rest of them. With the exception of Harry, everyone that had gone to the Ministry that night intent of freeing Sirius had been purebloods. Everyone except Hermione. Just being Muggleborn made her a target, but she was also one of Harry Potter's best friends, and to top it all off, they had sent several Death Eaters to Azkaban. Lucius Malfoy and the others would be pleased to kill her. "The best witch of her age" and a Muggleborn to boot. A fine prize she would be for any of Voldemort's cronies.

Ginny shivered as she thought, Not Hermione. Please not Hermione.

Pig was gone and Ron was again scribbling madly at a piece of parchment. Harry. Of course. Harry couldn't get the Daily Prophet at the Dursley's. Harry would want to know what had happened. He needed to know everything that went on. Ron was now calling for Erroll who eventually swooped in, somersaulting into the fireplace. Ron attached this second letter to Erroll's outstretched leg and sent him to Harry with urgent instructions. He turned swiftly toward their mother, every worry and doubt evident on his face.

"Mum, I told Hermione and Harry that they had to stay with us at the Burrow. It's not safe right now," Ron stated defiantly, begging for a challenge. "They aren't safe all by themselves."

Molly turned from the sink, where she had been scrubbing hard at the dishes. She was too distracted to even think of using magic to clean them.

"Of course, Ron. Of course. You know that they are both always welcome."

Ron looked confused and Ginny scowled. "You aren't going to say no?"

It was almost as if Molly was in denial of the entire ordeal. Neither Ron nor Ginny had been scolded for their reckless behavior that night at the Ministry. Since they'd been home she acted almost like none of it had happened and would frequently ask Ron how he thought he did on his O.W.L.'s.

"No, No. It's perfectly alright if Harry and Hermione want to come visit for awhile. The more the merrier," she chuckled loudly.

Both Ron and Ginny looked at each other with questioning eyes.

An hour later Hermione responded, saying that yes she had read the article. Several times in fact, and yes she would come and stay as soon as she could arrange transportation and pack her things.

Ron sighed in relief and Ginny relaxed a bit. Soon Hermione would get to the Burrow and she would be safe.

The twins had been listening from the other room. Ginny knew that they shared her worries about Harry and Hermione.

"Oy, Ron!" George called from the other room. "I can Apparate to her house and we can come back by Floo if you want."

Ron immediately nodded his head and stood up, "I'll go too!"

At that, Molly spun from the sink, soap dripping down her arms, denial forgotten. She puffed up like a dragon and roared, "Ronald Weasley! You are NOT going anywhere! George, you may go and get Hermione, but bring Fred with you. AND BE CAREFUL!"

Ron didn't think to protest but turned to George and yelled, "GO!"

With a pop George was gone and Ron stood from the table and began pacing the length of the kitchen.

Ten minutes later both Fred and George returned with white faces, visibly shaken. They had found both of Hermione's parents lying unconscious in the living room. Ron seemed incapable of speech. Ginny sat down hard and Molly dropped the plate she was holding in the sink. It shattered.

There had been signs of a struggle but Hermione was gone. They had searched the entire house. She was gone, but the Dark Mark remained, smoking in the hallway...