OK, guys, this is the start of a new story, one I'll be regularly updating.

Summary: AU. After Sirius's death at the hands of Voldemort during the summer after fourth year, Harry, devastated, resolves that if they didn't want a war yet, he was going to take it to them.

Training, curses, duels. Welcome to the Second War.

Chapter 1

Harry crumpled the letter he had received from Dumbledore tightly in his hand as his eyes burned with tears. Voldemort had got to Sirius. His godfather was dead. Voldemort got to his hiding place in the Caribbean, right after the resurrection.

I'm so sorry for your loss, Harry, the letter had read.

He thought about him, as guilt set in. If he had just been a little less idiotic, a little stronger, a little smarter, this wouldn't have happened.

I'm so sorry, Sirius.

No, he started this. He was going to end this. He remembered what Dumbledore had said to him.

'Voldemort would need some time to prepare his forces, Harry. Perhaps a year.'

Oh, he wasn't going to wait around for Voldemort to come to him. He was going to train, the become stronger, and magic help him, Voldemort would not win!

- - - - -. -

Harry ran his twentieth lap around Privet Drive as the sun set and he got tired. He trudged back to the house and opened the door.

"Take your shoes off quickly, boy! You'll muddy up the carpet!" his aunt screeched. He sighed and took them off.

Dudley was watching television on the sofa while his uncle read the evening newspaper and his aunt cooked dinner. He had stopped cooking meals for them after Hogwarts. They were probably afraid he'd put some weird wizard thing in their food. He went up to his room.

"Hey, Hedwig, girl," he said as he scratched her wing. She hooted.

"Yes, I have a letter. Can you take this to Dumbledore?" He let her out of the cage and tied it to her leg. He waved as she flew out of the room.

It was a request for some books in the Hogwarts library and extra training. He didn't know how Dumbledore would reply, but he needed those books. The training as well. He wasn't going to defeat Voldemort if he had no knowledge about him, or any spells above fourth year.

First, know your enemy.

…

Harry read the chapter again, as he forcibly tried to block his mind. Dumbledore had sent him the books, recommended learning Occlumency, and resolved to give him extra training in Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione didn't send any letters, and he couldn't help but feel a little hurt.

He was delighted about the books, though, and tried the wand movements of the spells he learnt as he mouthed the incantations. Sadly, Dumbledore wrote that he would only tell Harry about Voldemort's life at Hogwarts. It didn't matter, though, as he focused on clearing his mind.

Giza Pyramids

Midnight

Voldemort led three of his followers as he slashed with his wand and killed the guard in front of the tomb. Muggles. He sneered as Bellatrix killed the other Muggles present outside. They stormed inside the pyramid, as he disabled the fire curse outside the two thousand year old door and laughed. He was inside.

This happiness did not last for long, though, because as soon as they entered the chamber, a sand dragon emerged, clearly present to guard the tomb. He called to his followers to hit the dragon in the eye as the dragon swiped him, he flew back and he hit the door.

He got up, murderous rage dancing in his eyes. This dragon would feel the wrath of Lord Voldemort!

"Conflagerous!" he roared as a wall of fire hit the dragon's back and combusted. It staggered back. "Glaci!" The dark curse of a thousand ice spikes stabbed the dragon. "Praemium!" he cast finally, as the jagged purple curse hit the mouth of the dragon, and it exploded in a cloud of sand. He looked at his followers.

Bellatrix was mildly injured, Dolohov was untouched, and Rowle was dead. No great loss. Rowle had been weak anyway.

The dragon was a good defence, but it couldn't keep out the strongest wizard of the age, could it?

Voldemort laughed as he read the glowing, red runes inscribed in the tomb of Imhotep. He laughed maniacally, a deep, booming laugh. Strong magic indeed. He knew how to break the blood wards! Harry Potter was finished!

He gestured to his followers as they all stood still.

"Prepare for attack. We will kill Harry Potter in fifteen days."

….

Sweat trickled down Harry's forehead as he pushed up the dumbbell he had spent most of his money on for the fiftieth time and gasped for air. He really needed to go to Gringotts. He was still frustrated with himself for not learning Occlumency, and according to the book Battle Strategies, he needed to learn how to summon his wand, wandlessly.

Hedwig hooted at him. She sounded like she was laughing. He laughed too.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead as he rested for a few minutes and reread the letter from Ron.

Listen, mate, I'm really sorry for not writing you sooner. We were all just a little sad, you know? Also, how are you, Harry? You know that Sirius wouldn't want you to feel guilty. There's no reason you should, anyway. You couldn't have known that You-Know-Who was going to come back. You saved lives by surviving and telling us he's back. Ginny's really sad, though. Dad and Mum are trying to cheer her up.

Harry pushed down the hint of jealousy that Ginny's parents could comfort her. He appreciated the letter, though, especially that Ron knew exactly what he had been thinking. The one from Hermione came from her new owl, Emeric.

Harry, I'm so sorry about Sirius. I was shocked when I heard it and I can't imagine how you feel. Sirius really loved you, all right? Harry, I know you. Don't feel guilty. It wasn't your fault. It's You-Know-Who's.

He felt a little happier, really, but it stung somehow. Sirius really loved you. Everyone who really loved him was dead.

He put his wand on his desk as went to the other side of the room and concentrated.

"Accio!" It didn't budge.

"Accio!" Nothing.

"Accio!" Nothing. Bugger.

He read that part of the book again.

Summoning a wand wandlessly is one of the most important battle moves. If one is disarmed, one is helpless. Therefore, it gives one a distinct advantage in case he or she is disarmed. One must feel the need for a wand and let that take over as the primary emotion. Desperation works best. One can also call out to the wand soundlessly, if they have a strong connection with it.

Harry concentrated and felt the need for his wand. He needed it more than anything else. Ever.

"Accio!" The wand moved five centimetres.

He cheered as Hedwig was startled from her sleep and hooted at him.

"Sorry, girl. Just look, alright? Accio!"

The wand moved at least ten centimetres. Hedwig didn't look like she thought it was anything to be proud of, though. She went back to sleep.

He childishly stuck his tongue out at her. "Fine, be that way."

He was desperate for the wand. He would die without it.

"Accio!"

It moved across the room to his hand. He cheered again and danced around. He practiced it again and went back to learning spells. So far, he only knew a few Grey spells and Light spells, but he would have to know more.

Fourteen Days Later, Privet Drive

Midnight

Voldemort inscribed the runic circle on the border of the blood wards and chanted. He slashed at his arm with a knife and let the blood fall on the ground. Another ten minutes, and Harry Potter was done for.

…

Harry woke up in agony. His scar was burning furiously. He screamed and thrashed around, then got up. He grabbed his scar as he saw Voldemort outside Privet Drive, chanting, in his mind. Voldemort was here.

He needed to leave and with a heavy heart, he realised he didn't have time to save anyone else. He quickly scribbled out Help. Voldemort's at Privet Drive on a spare piece of paperand told Hedwig to take it to Dumbledore as fast as she could. She hooted in affirmation and flew away.

Harry snatched his broom from his trunk and threw on his Invisibility Cloak. He readied himself and took off through the window.

Right after him, the house exploded. The whole street became a conflagration of fire.

Harry looked on, shocked. What remained of his family was dead. He felt a burning anger, fury.

Voldemort would pay.

A jagged chunk of concrete hit him in the shoulder. He groaned, but flattened himself on the broom, willing it to go faster. He was pelted with chunks of building and he knew he was bleeding profusely. Point Me The Burrow, he whispered as the wand lit up north west. He flew for almost an hour before he started growing dizzy. He knew he had lost too much blood. He started to descend, Invisibility Cloak loose, to tend to his wounds, but the world grew dark.

Voldemort rejoiced.

…...

Bright eyes widened as he saw, through the trees, a small figure fall to the ground from a height of at least forty feet. He quickly grabbed his wand and cast the Cushioning Charm. The young one froze, then floated to the ground. He ran to the boy and laid a hand on his forehead, then saw the scar.

Harry Potter. Who could have known? He laughed softly, then saw the boy's wounds. He wouldn't survive much longer. The man sighed. He couldn't leave a dying child.

He picked up the boy and Disapparated.

Eridane Manor

"Sandy!" the man cried out as he carried the boy in. The house elf appeared in front of him.

"Who is this, master?"

"No matter, little one, just give him a few Blood Replenishing Potions from my lab, care for his wounds, and tell Delly to prepare a room for him."

"Yes, master." Sandy and the boy disappeared.

The man sighed. He couldn't help but be intrigued by Harry Potter. The one prophesied to destroy Voldemort. He had heard tales of the boy in school. Slain a basilisk. Interesting. Not to talk about the Triwizard Tournament. The solution to the first task was ingenious. He thought for a while. He had a personal score to settle with Voldemort, after all. He realised it was quite a long time past when he usually slept and went to bed.

He got up at his usual time, dressed, and enjoyed a walk around the grounds of the forest, watching the sun rise. After an hour, he decided to visit his young guest. He walked to the room where the boy was and opened the door. He was quite surprised at the boy inside pointing a wand at his throat.

…

Harry woke up in a strange room and automatically went on the defensive. He wasn't in his tattered clothes anymore but in a Muggle T shirt and sweatpants. His Cloak and wand were on the table next to him, and his Firebolt was propped up near the door. He couldn't deny it, the bed was very soft.

Then he heard footsteps down the corridor outside and positioned himself near the door. When it opened, he jumped in front of it, and pointed a wand at the wizard outside.

He was quite old, with short, messy, white hair. Strangely, he had one green eye and one blue eye. Both twinkled brightly at him. He wore grey robes and had a short beard. He chuckled lightly.

"It has been some time since I've been attacked in my own home, so please excuse me for not being quick enough."

"Who are you?" said Harry, unmoved.

"If you put your wand down, boy, I would tell you,"

"Oh, I'm not putting my wand down."

"Very well," said the man as he entered, Harry's wand still pointed at him.

"My name, Mr. Potter, is Forrest Eridane."

OK guys, this is the start of the story. Please let me know what you think. Should I continue this story?

Thanks,

TheCheerfulPessimist