Chapter One: Seventh Summer; The End of the End

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Harry Potter is a world built and owned by JK Rowling, I am simply playing in it.

AN: I warn you, do not read deeply into the backstory. It is ONLY there to get everything complicated out of the way. This story will be very AU. This is pretty much my first time writing fanfiction, and constructive criticism is welcome, no flames though, please. As I said, this first chapter I want to get out of the way ASAP, so it will not be good quality. I also do not update often, but I will not abandon this story, at least not without giving it up for adoption, so bear with me. Please message me if I have been gone for too long. Also, feel free to use ideas from my story in your own, so long as you give me credit and do not try to claim it as your own. Thank you and on with the story.

Story Inspiration: Parenting at Hogwarts - KittyKat1324, Parenting Class - IcyPanther, and a few other of those type of fanfictions that I can't seem to find. (I assure you I am not copying any of these stories, please warn me if my plot becomes too similar to theirs.)


Prologue: Summer before sixth year. (Dumbledore tries to gain the memory of Tom Riddle and invites Slughorn to Hogwarts, only to be rejected.)

"Horace, are you quite sure you don't want the job-?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Not a chance Albus- not a chance."

"- and the memory?"

"The answer's no, Albus!" Slughorn retorted.

Dumbledore sighed and disapparated with a crack. Remus it is then, he thought disparagingly, no matter what the public says.

-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-

Harry Potter was one unhappy person. Dumbledore had sent him back to the Dursleys once again. Even in light of everything happening around them, he was forced to return to his Aunt and Uncle's house for 'protection'. He was told that the Order would come to pick him up when he turned 17; yet he hadn't received a single piece of mail from the Order, Dumbledore or any of his friends. Consequently, Harry Potter was more than frustrated.

Flashback

The sound of a door slamming echoed up the stairs and a voice yelled, "Oi! You!" Sixteen years of being addressed thus left Harry with little doubt to whom his uncle was calling; nevertheless, he did not immediately respond. Harry was gazing at the Marauders Map, wondering idly why the Minister of Magic was in Dumbledore's office. It was not until his uncle bellowed "BOY!" that Harry slowly got to his feet, pausing to add the map to the rucksack of things he would be taking with him when the Order finally appeared to pick him up.

"You took your time!" roared Vernon Dursley when Harry appeared at the top of the stairs. "Get down here, I want a word!"

Harry strolled downstairs, his hands deep in his jean pockets. When he reached the living room, he found all three Dursleys. They were dressed for travelling. Uncle Vernon in a fawn zip-up jacket, Aunt Petunia in a neat, salmon-coloured coat, and Dudley in his leather jacket.

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"Sit down!" said Uncle Vernon. Harry raised his eyebrows mockingly.

"Please!" added Uncle Vernon, wincing slightly as if the word was sharp in his throat.

Harry sat. He thought he knew what was coming. His uncle began to pace up and down the room, Aunt Petunia and Dudley following his movements with anxious expressions. Finally, his large face crumpled with concentration, Uncle Vernon stopped in front of Harry and spoke.

"I've changed my mind." He stated.

"What a surprise," said Harry.

"Don't you take that tone -" began Aunt Petunia shrilly, but Uncle Vernon waved her down.

"It's all a lot of claptrap," said Uncle Vernon, glaring at Harry with piggy little eyes. "I've decided we are not going anywhere."

Harry looked up at his uncle with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. Vernon Dursley had been changing his mind every twenty-four hours for the past four weeks, packing, unpacking and repacking the car with every change of heart.

"According to you," Vernon Dursley continued, resuming his pacing, "We - Petunia, Dudley and I - are in danger. From - from -"

"Some of 'my lot', right," said Harry.

"Well, I don't believe it," repeated Uncle Vernon, coming to a halt in front of Harry again. "I was awake half the night thinking it all over, and I believe it's a plot to get the house."

"The house," Harry repeated. "What house?"

"This house!" shrieked Uncle Vernon, the vein in his temple starting to pulse. "Our house! House prices are skyrocketing around here! You want us out of the way and then you're going to do a bit of hocus-pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in your name and -"

"Are you out of your mind?" demanded Harry. "A plot to get this house? Are you actually as stupid as you look?"

-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-

Harry felt what could only be described as bittersweet joy as he watched the Dursley's car depart from the driveway for the final time. There goes my childhood, he thought sadly, for better or for worse. Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage, his Firebolt, and his rucksack, gave his unnaturally tidy bedroom one last sweeping look, and headed downstairs to the hall, where he deposited his things near the foot of the stairs. The light was fading now, the hall steadily becoming full of shadows in the evening light. It felt strange to stand here in the heavy silence, knowing that this was the last time he would set foot on number four privet drive. He remembered long ago, when he would spend his rare time in solitude to grab a tasty treat from the fridge and rush upstairs to spend time on Dudley's computer, or flick through channels on the television to his heart's content. It gave him an empty feeling thinking about those times; like remembering a younger brother whom he had lost.

"Don't you want to take one last look of the place?" he asked Hedwig, who was still sulking with her head under her wing. "We'll never be here again. Don't you want to remember all the good times?"

Harry became lost in his thoughts for a moment, then turned to look at his cupboard. He opened the door and gazed inside, wondering how he ever fit in there. There was a sudden, deafening roar from somewhere nearby. Harry jumped and pulled his head back, smashing it on the top of the low frame in the process. Pausing only to employ some of Uncle Vernon's choicest swear words, he staggered back into the kitchen clutching his head and staring out the window to the back garden where the darkness seemed to be rippling, and the air itself quivering.

One by one, figures began to pop into sight as their Disillusionment Charms lifted. Harry could see Hagrid dominating the scene sitting astride an enormous motorbike with a black sidecar attached. All around him others bean to dismount brooms or some, Thestrals.

Wrenching open the back door, Harry hurtled into their midst. There was a general cry of greeting and Hermione flung her arms around him. Ron clapped him on the back as Hagrid said, "All righ', Harry? Ready to beh off?"

"Definitely," said Harry, beaming around at all of them and noticing Dumbledore in the background. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you."

"Harry! Good to see you! We've changed plans. Come, I'll explain inside." Dumbledore exclaimed boisterously.

Harry led them all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled down on chairs or any other of Petunia's gleaming surfaces or spotless appliances. Harry's heart warmed to see them all; Ron, long and lanky; chatting with Hermione, whose bushy hair was tied back in a neat plait. Fred and George, grinning identically; Bill, badly scarred and long-haired; Mr. Weasley, kind-faced, balding, his spectacles a little awry; Mad-Eye, battle-worn and one-legged, strangely carrying two large sacks; Tonks, whose short hair was worn in her favourite bright pink shade; Professor Lupin, face greyer, and more lined; Fleur, slender and beautiful as always; Kingsley, bald and broad-shouldered, Hagrid, with his wild hair and beard, Dumbledore, sitting serenely on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, and even droopy, dirty Mundungus Fletcher, whom he had tried to strangle last time they had met.

"Harry guess what?" said Tonks from her perch atop the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand; a ring glittered there.

"You got married?" Harry yelped, eyes travelling from her to Lupin.

"I'm sorry you couldn't there Harry, it was very quiet.

"That's brilliant, congratula-"

"All right, all right, quiet, we'll have time for a cozy catch up later, let Albus explain the plan."

"Thank you, Alastor. Now, Harry, the ministry is monitoring the floo network and apparation, as well as portkeys, so those are off the table. The second problem is that you are underage, so the ministry is still tracking your magic. We must use the only means left to us, brooms, Thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike. We've leaked a fake trail to the ministry, who now believe you are leaving on the thirteenth. We will all be heading to 7 different locations, where we will portkey to The Burrow. Our key plan, however, will be our disguise. There will be seven Harry Potters flying tonight."

"No!" Harry said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen, "No Way!"

"Harry, it's the only way," said Dumbledore.

"Ouch!" Harry yelled. Hermione had just yanked a chunk of hair out of his head and was placing it into Moody's flask of polyjuice.

Ten minutes later Harry found himself seated in the sidecar, surrounded by fake Harry's complete with fake Hedwigs and glasses. Dumbledore was to follow Harry and Hagrid heavily disillusioned for extra security.

"Good luck everyone," shouted Moody, "On the count of three, One … two … THREE."

Harry head a roar from the motorbike and saw houses shrinking away into the distance until he could no longer tell which one was 4 Privet Drive. Then, out of nowhere, they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded figures, suspended in mid-air, formed a vast circle surrounding Harry and Hagrid.

Screams, flashes of green light on every side, Harry could no longer tell where they were, and then-, it was gone. Dumbledore was there, and the death eaters were fleeing; Harry was in shock. Then, barely minutes after the first attack, a green light went shooting past his ear. Harry spun around to see Voldemort himself duelling Dumbledore, just in time to hear Dumbledore scream, "Accipere Magae!" Voldemort plummeted, only to be levitated by Dumbledore and bound in ropes. Suddenly, everything vanished, and Harry found himself and Hagrid plummeting to the ground.

"Hagrid! Pull up! Now!" Harry screamed, and….. "Crash!" That was the last thing Harry remembered.

Harry woke to a man yelling, "Hagrid, get your finger on the portkey!", and a familiar jerk behind his navel.

"Harry!" Molly shouted, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley, where is everyone?" Harry asked, handing her Hedwig.

"Thank goodness! Everyone's inside, they all returned before you, Dumbledore explained what happened."

Harry followed Mrs. Weasley inside, to be greeted by the sight of a caged and unconscious Voldemort, with the whole Order gathered around.

"Harry," noticed Dumbledore, "Glad to see you back safely, I have managed to strip Tom of his magical powers with a little creation that I developed over the summer."

Harry was too stunned to reply.

"We have just administered Veriteserum. We must find out how he has kept himself alive." Dumbledore turned to face Voldemort, who was now awake and had eyes glassed over in the familiar Veriteserum look. "Please state your full name."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Please state your mother's first and last names."

"Merope Gaunt."

"How are you managing to be immortal?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Through the use of Horcruxes," Voldemort replied to astonished and fearful gasps around the room.

"And where and what are these Horcruxes?" Dumbledore continued.

"A diary in the Chamber of Secrets, which has been destroyed; Nagini, my snake, who is dead; Hufflepuff's cup, in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault; Ravenclaw's diadem, in the room of hidden things at Hogwarts; Slytherin's locket, which I found recently in the possession of Dolores Umbridge; and the Gaunt ring, hidden in the Gaunt Shack."

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes."

"I have all the information we need, could you please administer the antidote, Kingsley? Then stun him.

Immediately whispers broke out in the room.

Harry turned to Hermione, "Horcru-"

"Silence!" Commanded Dumbledore, "We will discuss this tomorrow, everyone head to bed."

Harry followed Ron up to his room, tramping through the crowd wondering what was going to happen tomorrow. Exhausted, the two prepared for bed silently and fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.


AN: Thanks for reading.

Was this too short, too long, badly witten? Constructive criticism is encouraged.

Hope you have a wonderful day,
SilverSwan