Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. There, I said it! (sigh)

Chapter 1: The Thief in the Night

"Another year," Dumbledore announced to the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the end-of-year feast. Harry and friends looked knowingly at each other. What a year it had been, what with students being Petrified, cats getting tied up, and a mysterious chamber that was not supposed to exist. To top it off, inside this nonexistent room resided a huge snake with killer eyes that answer only to those that can speak its language. Another year indeed. Harry sighed heavily as the Headmaster spoke. He hated this feast, because it meant the fun was over and he would have to return to Privet Drive.

"So Harry, what was the Heir of Slytherin like," Hermionie asked while Dumbledore told the whole school how good it felt to be back, how the students were never in any danger, etc. Most of the students listened, but some eyes wandered. Among them was Draco Malfoy, whose eyes focused on Potter and his friends.

"They sure look cozy over there, don't they Goyle," he asked the burly young giant on his right sarcastically. "That Potter is a fool for associating with that Mudblood Granger and no-good Weasley." Crabbe and Goyle nodded stupidly, shooting their deadliest glares at the three. "You know what," Malfoy said after some silence, "I think I know of a good way of showing Potter why purebloods are the better breed. Listen up boys, cause this is what I want you to do." The three huddled together, evil snickering escaping through the cracks.

The day came when the students would have to return to their homes. There was cheerful chattering among the crowd waiting to board the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, his sister Ginny, and Hermionie stood first in line, giving them free choice of their compartment. They were silent, each entertaining themselves with idle activities. Harry leaned against the train and examined his nails, picking them to make sure they were free of dust. Ron absently stroked his rat Scabbers, his eyes wandering around the platform. Hermionie, as usual, had her nose in a book. It was quite large, with giant gold letters that read "1,001 Ways to do Just About Anything." Ginny stared at the sky, counting each cloud she could see. Finally, the conductor announced for the students to board. As one, Harry stood up, Hermionie closed the book, Ron's eyes focused, and Ginny ceased her counting. They entered the cart and choose the booth right by the entrance, closing the door so that no one else would enter. Once situated, Ron brought out his chessboard and set up the pieces. Harry choose white and the game began. Hermionie sat in the corner, occasionally looking over the top of her book to observe the game. Ginny simply stared off into space. She would sometimes glance at her brother, who watched her anxiously, and smile reassuringly. Three games later, with Harry finding his king once again trapped by Ron's knights, the boy sighed and decided to do something else.

"Wonder where that cart is," he asked, his voice penetrating the silence.

"It should be passing any minute now," Hermionie answered as she put the book aside. Sure enough, there was a knock on their door. Ron opened it and was surprised to see Malfoy sneering at them, Crabbe and Goyle on his sides like impassable mountains. All the other compartments were closed, leaving no one to witness anything that may occur. Harry and Hermionie stood up defiantly as Ron stepped back to join them.

"Well, Potter," said the blond-haired boy, "I see that you still enjoy befriending the riffraff. We were wondering," he nodded at his companions, "If you could lend us some money. See, I was just checking my purse and it seems I have nothing with which to buy some food from the cart. You can imagine my distress. Then I remembered the time you had bought the entire cart last year. So I came up with an idea: take Potter's money and use it as my own. I'm sure he won't mind, would you?" Crabbe and Goyle snickered as they entered the compartment. In a flash Harry had his wand out. Weaving through the heavy boys, he thrust the tip at the space between Malfoy's eyes.

"Call them off," he said, his voice cold. He did not know where his anger had come from. Maybe it was from the stress of the past year, or maybe it was the prospect of another torturous summer with his aunt and uncle. Whatever it was, Malfoy's voice and disgusting white face had set him off. "I am really not in the mood for your stupidity, Draco. So take you lapdogs and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of or so help me, I will curse you so much your own mother wouldn't recognize you." Draco watched his rival for a moment, their eyes digging into each other's skulls, and then he snapped his fingers and exited the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle at his heels. Harry pocketed his wand and closed the door. When he turned around, a huge smile was plastered on his face. The room erupted in laughter.

"Did you see his face?"

"That was great Harry!"

"Yeah, he looked like he was going to cry!"

The rest of the trip was spent joking and laughing. Even Ginny joined in the good nature. Ripping a piece of sheet of paper in two, Harry gave his phone number to Hermionie and Ron, asking that they call him during the summer. Ron cocked his head in confusion.

"What's a felly tone?"

Unfortunately, the train arrived at Platform 9¾ right on time. There was silence again as each student claimed his/her baggage. Finally, the time came to part. Ron waved good-bye as he went to join his brothers and Hermionie reminded the two to write. Harry turned to face his aunt and uncle.

"Who were those two," Uncle Vernon asked, "More freaks like you?" Harry did not answer as he pushed the cart toward the car and began loading his things into the trunk. Once everything was in order, he grabbed Hedwig's cage and sat in the car. His aunt and uncle got in as well and the car left the station parking lot. Next to Harry sat his overly obese cousin Dudley, his beady eyes staring at him through rolls of fat. With bungling sloth he ran his hand along the cage of the owl. Hedwig puffed up threateningly and Harry closed his eyes, waiting. 'Three, two, one,' he counted down mentally. At 'one' Dudley cried out with pain. Hedwig had bit him on the finger. Before his uncle could say anything, Harry spoke.

"I warned you not to touch her cage, Dudley, you know she doesn't like you," he said. His cousin muttered under his breath and showed his red finger to his mother, who kissed it to the point of causing it to prune. There were no more interruptions as the car entered Privet Drive.

Draco Malfoy watched from the air as the car turned into a house on the street. 'Who does he think he is,' he thought angrily, his hands squeezing the handles of his broomstick. 'How dare he threaten me? I'll show him! Wait until I tell Dad I know where the Great Harry Potter lives!' Laughing cruelly, he turned his broom around and disappeared into the clouds.

In the darkness of the Riddle mansion, the tap of unsteady feet could be heard. The man walked nervously down the hallway to the study, where a fire burned in the fireplace. Shelves of books took up the majority of the wall space, with pictures of past Riddles completing the room. In the middle was a large leather chair facing the fire. What stood out was the incredibly long snake that lay curled up by the heat. Upon smelling the fear of the man, it raised its head and hissed. A voice hissed in much the same manner from the chair.

"This had better be good news, she has not yet eaten," the voice said, a bony finger pointing toward the coiled serpent.

"My Lord, I have just heard from Lucius Malfoy that he has received information on the whereabouts of Harry Potter. He requested permission to 'visit' the home and eagerly awaits your answer," the man said, the fear raising his voice by a few octaves. The room was silent for a long time. Suddenly, a deep laughter ensued from the chair.

"Burn it down, and leave no one alive." The man bowed low and exited the room, shutting the door silently behind him.

Two weeks past since summer began and as usual, Harry was miserable. He sat on the grass of the front lawn, having been thrown out by his aunt once again. Not one letter or call had come from his friends. The loneliness and boredom was unbearable. On top of that, Dudley had got it into his mind that he would once again use Harry as his punching bag, so bruises were now a common phenomenon on his skin. It would have been worse, but Harry managed to scare his oversized cousin off by waving his wand and muttering incoherently. This of course led to a lecture and occasional manual labor, but it was worth it. Even as Vernon shouted at him about how much of a freak he was, Harry wished something would happen, anything at all. Fate, it seems, decided to heed his request.

One night in late June, Harry awoke to a noise downstairs in the living room. His mind was instantly at attention. His aunt and uncle never stayed up past midnight, and his clock displayed two-thirty. Getting out of bed, Harry rummaged for his wand and tiptoed to his door. Opening it slowly, he peered into the hallway. He could see a pair of dark figures on the top of the stairs heading into his direction. They wore cloaks with hoods and held wands in their hands. One entered Dudley's room while the other slipped into the master bedroom. Harry waited with bated breath. A step creaked inside the bedroom and he could his aunt and uncle's gasp of surprise. Vernon was about to speak when a sudden flash of green light filled the room, spilling into the hallway. Harry's heart stopped. He knew that spell! That same green light brought the memories back, her face crying out. It was the Death spell! 'Move,' his mind screamed as the same light emanated from Dudley's room. Taking a deep breath, Harry lunged down the hallway to the stairs, descending quickly and jumping down the last four steps. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a group of four hooded wizards in the living room, flames shooting from the wands and hitting the furniture. The light from the flames illuminated the face of one of them. It was Lucius Malfoy. Right then, Harry realized who was behind this. 'Draco, you will pay for this,' he thought. The anger was blinding him again and he pointed his wand at the wizards who had not yet noticed his presence.

"Expelliarmus," he yelled, sending the spell at Lucius, who fell over with a cry. The other wizards turned and shot various spells at Harry. He dove into the kitchen to avoid them. Wasting no time, Harry reached into the sink cabinet and took out a pan. Turning the stove to maximum heat, he placed the pan on it and waited. After a few minutes he took the hot pan by the handle and moved toward the entrance/exit of the kitchen. Just as one of the wizards came into view, he swung the pan. Its hot underbelly connected with the hood and dropped to the ground and clutched his face, his screams of pain muffled by his hands. Harry smiled and jumped into the living room, yelling, "Petrificus Totalus!" The remaining wizards ducked for cover and Harry ran past them, swinging the pan like a club. 'All I need is my Nimbus, just let me get to it,' he prayed as he ran among the fire that was consuming the walls. Spells whizzed by, missing him by millimeters each time. Finally, the broom closet came into view and he ripped it open. Grabbing his broom Harry ran down the wall to the window at the end. Never slowing, he dived through, feeling the glass shatter around him as he rolled on the grass. Willing his bleeding body to move, he got up and ran. To his surprise, a figure about his size stood in his path.

"Where do you think you're going Potter," the voice of Draco Malfoy said as he whipped out a wand and removed the hood. It was this hateful hellspawn that had no doubt told all the Death Eaters he knew about the house. It was his fault that his aunt and uncle were dead; his fault that he was alone again; his fault that he was now homeless; it was his FAULT! Roaring with rage, Harry dropped the broom and reached for his wand in one quick motion.

"Locomotor Mortis," Harry screamed. The wand shuddered and blasted out the spell with the bang of a gun. Malfoy tried to dodge, but the beam hit his leg. Rendered useless, Malfoy could not run. Instead, he shot a spell of his own.

"Crucio," he chanted and Harry was filled suddenly with a soul-searing pain. His skin was on fire and turning inside out at the same time. He did not know if he fell to the floor or not, could not feel the grass or wind, just the unbearable pain. As he screamed, the sneering face of Draco Malfoy filled his vision. He was laughing at him, at his agony! Harry's screams of pain became cries of rage as a bright sheen of energy covered his body, shielding him from the spell. He was gone, all that remained was hatred as he ran at the boy and slammed him into the ground. Malfoy looked up in horror as Harry's wand was once again thrust between his eyes. What scared him the most were the eyes. There was no emotion in them, almost as if he were a mindless demon. There was a blast of hot air as the wall behind the two boys collapsed. In a flash Harry was on his broom, his consciousness returning as he flew into the air.

"Get him, he's getting away," one of the Death Eaters said frantically, already envisioning the punishment Lord Voldemort would deal out if Potter escaped. Suddenly, Lucius appeared next to him.

"Don't worry so much Stevens," Malfoy Sr. said as he aimed his wand at the retreating figure. "Potter is as good as dead. Incendio!" A ball of fireshot from the wand and flew toward Harry. There was a blast of light and a ball of flame could be seen falling. Lucius looked over at his son on the floor. Their eyes met, volumes spoken between them as the father vanished in with a loud crack. The others followed suit, the cracks like lightning in the sky as firefighters rushed to stop the house from burning into the ground.

Harry welcomed the cool wind on his wounds, a smile splitting his face over his victory. All of a sudden the stars in the night sky were consumed with flame as breath was forced out of his chest. He was aware of a burning sensation on his hands and legs. The Nimbus was burning! Harry pushed off the broom and plummeted to the ground. The world spun in circles: stars, grass, stars, grass. He landed hard on his back, his body bouncing from the impact. The pain made him groan pitifully as the corners of his eyes darkened. The stars spun and the world went black.

It was in all the newspapers. 'Family killed in mysterious fire. Cause is still unknown. Foul play suspected.' The Daily Prophet ran a different article- 'Home destroyed by Rogue Death Eaters. Rumored to be home of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.' News traveled across the wizarding world about the deaths, reaching Arthur Weasley within two days of the incident, the rumor confirmed. Taking the day off, he hurried to the Burrow to break the news. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears when she heard. Fred and George held her solemnly as her body shook with sobs. Ginny sat at the foot of the stairs; tears ran silently down her face. Ron could feel a shiver run through him. The house that had burned, it had been Harry's. He was gone, dead. Elsewhere, Hermionie was just finishing her first letter to Harry when a barn owl dropped her copy of the Daily Prophet on her windowsill. She sealed the letter, looking around to make sure no one was looking, and kissed the name in loopy cursive before giving it to the waiting owl. Once it was gone, she opened the paper cheerfully. At first, the picture on the front page seemed like a sign. But when she read the headline she gasped. 'No it can't be,' she thought to herself, even as the tears ran down her face and she threw the paper on the ground, sobbing into her hands. 'He can't be gone!' There on the front page of the Daily Prophet was a moving picture of Harry smiling awkwardly for the camera, his glasses slipping down his nose. Underneath it was the caption:

'Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1988, deceased June 28, 2000. May He Rest In Peace'