Disclaimer: This is an all inclusive disclaimer for this and all following chapters of this story, Shades of Gray. Any content that you recognize is the property of J.K. Rowling and/or Bloomsbury Books. Mrs. Rowling is the creator to these fine characters. However, the General plot as well as the original Characters are mine.

A/N: Hi, this is my first attempt at a more action oriented story. If you are looking for something with a little more rommance I suggest that you try The Last Thing to Mend. Current readers: I'll try to update that soon. Okay, enough plugging. I really hope that you enjoy. This is my second attempt at a Fan Fic. So, go forth and read! Have fun! Once you are done,PLEASE REVIEW. It doesn't have to be a long review or anything, although I love those. The more you review the more that I will update. So without further ado I give you...


Chapter One

Breaking Point

It was a dark night. Fog was spreading over the land despite the summer heat. But, this fog had nothing to do with the weather. It was just another sign, a sign of the dementors, a sign of Voldemort.

Harry sat in his room at number 4 privet drive. He sat facing the window, exuding a sense of outer calm. However, on the inside Harry was screaming. Everyone that he had gotten too close to was gone. That was it! Voldemort needed to pay! His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, everyone that Harry had trusted had eventually gotten hurt.

He couldn't allow this to go on. Who could be next? Ron? Hermione? Ginny? With this last thought Harry's insides grew cold. He could not let anything happen to her. He needed to protect her, and there was only one way to do that. Voldemort must die!

Harry stood up and began to pace around his room. He needed advice. He needed the kind of advice that few could give him, especially at 2:45 in the morning. But, there was one man who could give Harry precisely the help he needed. He pulled parchment and a quill toward him. He dipped his quill in an ink bottle sitting on his desk and began to write.

Dear Alastor,

It is time to start. Please come and meet me as soon as you can. I can't write what I wish in a letter. Meet me soon.

Harry

Harry reached across the desk and coaxed Hedwig from her perch. He tied the letter to her leg and opened the window for her to take off. She disappeared silently into the night. There was nothing else that Harry could do now. Not tonight anyway.

Harry walked back to his bed and threw himself upon the sheets. He reached onto his bedside table and picked up a potion bottle. He drank the contents before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.


Harry awoke the next morning to a muffled thump in his room. Harry kept his eyes closed while he attempted to discern the situation. He thought he knew where the noise came from. He leaped from his bed and drew his wand in one fluid motion. He swept it over his head to point it at his would be attacker. However, he stopped-mid motion, his face breaking out into a smile. "Moody," he said, "You are here."

"Yeah," Moody growled, "You wanted to talk to me about something Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, "Its time to start."

"So you said," replied Moody, "But as to what you want to start I do not know,"

"The attack on Voldemort."

"I surmised as much. But, that simply begs the question, how are you expecting to go about this task?"

"That is why I called you. I am going to go on the offensive, the serious offensive. Many say that they deserve a trial, and they do. But considering that many of Voldemort's supports have already had their trial and have simply been broken out of Azkaban I believe that we can circumvent that step."

"I agree. But you didn't answer my question, what are you planning?"

"I'll save that for later," replied Harry, "Once everyone is in a single room. I don't want to have to explain this more than once."

"Fine," snapped Moody. "Where are we going?"

Harry walked over to his trunk and pulled out a long cloak. "London , among other places, and this is something that I need to take care of myself." he replied. Harry whipped the cloak over his shoulders and pulled up the hood, obscuring his face.

"Wait," said Moody, "One last thing."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Why did you get me first? Why not tell Weasley or Granger?"

"Simple, they don't understand," replied Harry. Moody cocked an eyebrow at him and he continued, "Sometimes the answer is neither light nor dark but a subtle shade of gray." With that Harry walked out of the front door.


Harry sat on the Knight Bus speeding towards London. He tried not to think about future battles, future deaths. He tried not to think about all of the things that he would have to do. Harry just starred out of the window not really looking at the blurs that flew past the windows.

The Knight Bus slowed to a stop in the crowded streets of London. Harry got out and slipped down an old Alley to what appeared to be an out of commission telephone booth. Not Diagon Alley, just a minor pit stop. Harry hoped that this would not take long.

Harry picked up the telephone and said, "Harry Potter here to see Rufus Scrimegeour, Minister of Magic."

The lift took him underground and he departed into the marble halls of the Ministry of Magic.


A/N: So... What do you think? I really hope that you like it. Well, now that you have read, I would be eternally greatful if you would PLEASE REVIEW.

Thanks for reading

Robinton