WARNING, MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR ALL BOOKS

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Disclaimer:

Harry Potter and all its related trademarks are the sole property of Ms J.K Rowling. I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.

Summary:

It's been nineteen years since the defeat of Voldemort and nobody values this freedom more than Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Saved-the-World has settled down and started a family of his own, finding peace and solace in his relatively quiet life. He guess he should've known it wouldn't stay that way for long… when a tragedy breaks his family apart it's up to Harry to prove to everyone that he wasn't driven mad by grief, that he's telling the truth - that the one thing that could've happened to break apart his perfect world has finally come to pass. Voldemort is back.

Author's Note:

… wow, well, okay, so… this is my first fanfic. XD Not the first I've put online, but the first I'm actually willing to put my name to and it's pretty much canon, or as canon as I can make it. As most Harry Potter fans I'm in serious denial about the ending of the series and this is my answer to it. ENJOY XD

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Harry Potter and the Third War

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Chapter one: Death

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Life went on.

Time passed, as it often did, in a blur of sounds and colours. Harry never doubted that he lived every moment of his life after Hogwarts, but being able to get his head around just how long had passed… the progression of days that turned into weeks that morphed into months that evolved into years… it was like having a mental block that prevented him from ever catching up. He'd confided in Ginny about his worry that he was missing out on his life and it'd be over before he knew it but she'd just laughed it off and said she knew what he meant. Ron had always said 'time flies when you're having fun' but he'd never really considered just how fast. Then again, this kind of 'fun' was a far cry from his Hogwarts days, even that one glorious summer he'd spent with his friends before the second war. This was something completely new to him.

It was only now, with no impending threat from evil of any kind, the joy (and exhaustion) of looking after his kids and keeping his wife and the rest of the Weasleys pleased that he was taking care of himself that he knew the meaning of the word.

For the first time in his life, everything seemed to be going right.

Then fun had been a foreign word. Now, he found fun (and happiness for that matter) in the smallest things. Fun was now as familiar to him as the Burrow and the swing set in it's yard, where he'd been able to spend hours watching his kids (his kids), playing hard and crashing even harder afterwards. Fun was watching his kids grow up without a care in the world. Fun was spending countless nights with Ron, Hermione and Ginny watching the fire flicker in the blackened grate and musing on just how quickly the years had passed. The previous nineteen years had indeed been the happiest time of his life… he just wished he could've enjoyed more of it.

Harry lowered his hand absent mindedly and touched his hand to the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He started when warm arms curled around his middle and looked down at the head of red hair lying gently on his chest. He hadn't even noticed Ginny approach. He smiled absently, concentrating on the way she warmed him to the core without even trying, trying to pretend he didn't notice the various interested and excited looks he was getting from the other parents there. Idly, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling distinctly light headed.

He could remember when he'd first been here, Hedwig's cage in one hand, the other firmly gripping his train ticket, staring at the scarlet engine that occupied the tracks on this side of the barricade and wondering whether or not this was all a dream. The memory was as vivid to him as reality was to him now, and in that moment he realized that nothing had changed. Harry was still Harry, no matter what. He felt the same as he always had. It was everything else that had changed, not him.

"Ready to go?" He murmured into the soft hair tickling his nose, breathing in the sweet scent of herbal shampoo. He loved that smell, always had, and knew he probably always would. Ginny pulled away and looked up at him with a smile and a short nod.

"Sure." She said, gently disconnecting herself from his arms, looking around at everyone on the platform and finally spotting a red head standing a few feet away. As the train disappeared into the distance, the read head spun around and bounded over to them. Harry couldn't suppress a smile. Besides inheriting her mother's looks, Lily had also inherited the sense of humour and fierce temperament of all the Weasleys. It wasn't showing now, but he knew that it would rise to the surface if he so much as denied her a cookie.

She smiled up at her parents, then, abruptly, her bottom lip trembled. Harry, surprised, didn't react. He never did, he had no more experience with crying girls then he did back when he was fifteen. Ginny, luckily, did and scooped up her youngest as Lily burst into tears.

"I.. it's a wh.. whole 'nother year.." She managed through wracking sobs, trembling in Ginny's arms. Harry knew exactly what she meant. He too, felt a sudden pang in his chest as he realized he would be without James or Albus (or even Hugo and Rose for that matter) until the next holidays. His wife whispered words of comfort to Lily as he stepped away, straining his eyes as he looked into the distance, only just able to make out the outline of the train as it disappeared for good.

"It's alright." He said finally, with a short smile. "We'll see them again on the holidays, and that's only a few weeks away." Ginny gave him a grateful smile but Lily said nothing, choosing instead to bury her head in her mum's neck.

"Give another year and you'll never want the holidays to come…"

Harry spun around at the unexpected voice and stood stock still, staring at the person who had spoken. Funnily enough, it seemed that Draco Malfoy looked as stunned as Harry felt at revealing that snippet of information and shifted his weight uncomfortably to his other foot.

"I… a word, Pot- Harry?" The Malfoy continued hesitantly, with a quick glance in Ginny's direction. Ginny gave him a disapproving look but seemed to understand and started slowly towards the barrier, reassuring Lily, who was still sniffing quietly in her arms. Harry turned around to face his former nemesis and frowned, looking properly at Malfoy for the first time since the final battle. The years had been kind to Draco, it seemed, and the only hint that he'd aged at all seemed to be in his eyes. He no longer looked as aristocratic as he used to. Though still refined, there was a hardness to his features that hadn't been there before.

"I… I never thanked you."

Harry blinked. "What for?" He asked bluntly, shock paralyzing any common sense he might have had and rendering him useless. Malfoy shrugged lightly.

"You did save the world, Potter," he said in a slightly stinging tone, then seemed to remember how much time had passed and softened, "but other than that… you saved me that time, when Crabbe and Goyle…" he trailed off uncertainly, keeping his eyes downcast.

His mouth worked soundlessly. Harry knew it must have had taken the Slytherin a lot of courage to even approach him – let alone thank him. Nineteen years they hadn't spoken, hadn't even had eye contact and now he was starting conversation?

"I .. um.. thanks Malfoy." He said eventually. "I couldn't very well let you get burned alive, could I?"

Malfoy sighed. "I wouldn't have been surprised if you did, though I suppose that was out of the question for a bloody Gryffindor like you." Strangely, he smiled lightly after that statement. Harry returned it without preamble, but he couldn't help but feel a little suspicious. He scratched the back of his head and cast his gaze around the slowly emptying train station, trying to ignore the looks of would be well wishers as he searched for Ginny and Lily.

It was then and there he saw something he never thought he'd see again. Somebody in black robes darted behind a column, their position betrayed only by the swishing of their cloak, before it settled back beside them. Harry, startled, stared. Wizards no longer wore black robes – they hadn't in over twenty years – nobody wanted to be reminded of the war they'd barely won. So why here, why now, did he see somebody disobeying the unspoken law? He shuddered lightly, straining his gaze to see if he could see the same person again… but there was nobody.

"Potter?"

Harry registered the almost concerned tone in Malfoy's voice and turned back, vaguely surprised to see him standing there. He'd been so distracted by the person in black… he'd forgotten… trying to find a distraction, something to excuse what had just happened, he looked around again and saw Malfoy's wife standing a little ways off. He attempted to control the fierce pounding of his heart and his quickened breath and nodded sharply towards the woman.

"What happened to Pansy?"

Malfoy's small frown turned into a smirk. "Pansy? Parkinson? It was a crush Potter, not all of us fall in love with the first girl who sends us a valentine."

Harry felt the colour creeping into his cheeks.

"Besides," Malfoy continued hastily, as though unwilling to demolish the uneasy truce they'd just established, "Victoria is… much more refined then Pansy ever was, not to mention she doesn't put as much emphasis on pure blood lines or lack of as most of us did back then. A lot has changed since Hogwarts – I've changed."

Harry nodded, breathing deeply as to ward off the last of the panic. Victoria, as she'd been named, grinned at the two of them and gave a short wave, before pointing at the clock. The blond checked his own watch and jumped. "I'm late," He said quickly, adjusting his impeccable black jacket and buttoning a previously unfastened cuff. Harry hadn't noticed how smart Malfoy was dressed when he'd first come in, and suddenly realized that it could no longer be his fortune that was keeping their family afloat. He'd probably made a name for himself, though Harry had never known.

Malfoy held out his hand and Harry shook it firmly.

"I'll see you around Potter." He said finally, before turning and walking quickly over to his wife. Victoria smiled, but not a simper like Pansy could've managed, and took hold of her husband's arm in a dignified manner. They disappeared through the barrier without another word. Harry shook his head in bemusement and turned to Ginny and Lily – who were no longer where he'd left them. They must've gone ahead, he thought to himself, suddenly realizing that the platform was almost empty.

Or had they?

Harry shuddered and hurried after the Malfoys, emerging into the muggle train station. Hastily, he dodged the early morning commuters and searched for a dash of red among the gray, blue and black that made up the dreary monotone of another London morning.

He spotted Ginny quickly by a rubbish bin and smiled, trying to quash the inexplicable panic that had risen in his chest at finding them gone. It was normal, he told himself; normal to worry… after all they'd been through… that somebody had been wearing black was just some sort of weird coincidence… that Ginny and Lily had gone ahead wasn't a surprise and was definitely no reason to panic…

Harry hurried through the crowd and reached them within seconds. He must've been pale, because Ginny frowned at the look on his face.

"Are you alright?" She asked quietly. Lily was standing beside her now, looking strangely amused at her father's expression. Harry hesitated and nodded, but Ginny still didn't look convinced. He struggled to slow down his breathing but couldn't help his frantic glances around the station. It wasn't until Lily broke the silence that he even noticed he was standing motionless and looking rather like a frightened rabbit.

"Dad, I need to go to the toilet." She said plaintively.

Harry wiped his hands on his jeans to rid himself of the sweat that had accumulated. What was wrong with him? He fixed a small smile onto his face and ignored the concerned looks Ginny was shooting him. "Alright, we'll stop by the bathroom on the way." He said, forcing his tone to become light and cheerful. It wasn't everyday that his second youngest child left for his first year at Hogwarts. He ought to have been celebrating, so why was he still feeling like this?

Harry grabbed Lily's hand, but she pulled away. "I don't need to hold your hand," she said bluntly, a little defiant. "I'm old enough to walk by myself daddy." He nodded, bewildered as she sauntered up ahead. He started off behind Lily as Ginny fell into step beside him. "Are you sure?" She continued, staring intently as him and almost bumping into an elderly couple as they walked. The older man turned, almost angrily, before his eyes alit on Harry and he stared until they'd passed.

He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Lily, barely noticing the two starting to follow them. It seemed everyone wanted to shake his hand or get his autograph these days – and considering the Wizarding and muggle worlds were more closely connected then ever lately; it was not an unusual occurrence for somebody to approach him in the middle of the street no matter where he was.

Ginny bit her lip. "If you're sure. It's just… you know if there's ever anything wrong… or you just need to talk… I'm here for you, right?"

The last time she'd said that… the last time she'd needed to reassure him like that was almost twenty years ago – and it was that more than anything else that made Harry pause for a moment in the middle of the platform and manage a smile in his wife's direction.

"I know, and you always have been."

Ginny grinned. "And don't you forget it." She said, poking him playfully in the ribs. They started again in the same direction but with one key difference. Harry stared into the mass of milling people, but no matter where he looked, he couldn't find… no, it wasn't possible – but it was. There was something wrong. Ginny's hand flew to her mouth.

"Where'd she go?" She said, panicking. Harry pushed his way through the throng of people, Ginny following, the elderly couple still close behind. He broke into a run as he came into view of the toilets, calling Lily's name, his heart pounding in his throat – No… then, as he cleared the last of the lines for tickets and found the gray tiles of the entrance to the toilets, he saw the flick of her red ponytail as she disappeared inside. Ginny sighed in relief and hurried in after her, but of course Harry paused outside the door. She was fine… he scolded himself; there was nothing wrong, there never had been. They'd only lost sight of her for a second, so why had he panicked like that?

He frowned and lent against the stone beside the door, sighing as the cold penetrated his shirt and cooled his back. Was it just today that he was having this problem, or had he always been this jumpy?...

"Harry Potter!" He literally did jump as a rough voice spoke from his left and the woman from the elderly couple grabbed his hand. She looked like she'd worked every day of her sixty odd years. Her gray hair fell in tight curls around her stout face and her squat shape reminded him strongly of Dolores Umbridge, but there was something innately different about her that brought a bemused smile to his face. She looked like she'd degrade herself before saying a bad word about anybody, like someone's kindly aunt.

"Yeah… that's me." He said, clasping her hand once before letting go. She looked amazed she'd even been worthy of his touch, no matter how fleeting, and beamed at him as an elderly man led her kindly away. The balding man then turned and sized him up with one good eye. The other didn't move at all and Harry guessed that something had happened to him to make it so.

"Let me congratulate you."

The man offered his hand. Harry grabbed it without thinking, musing on just how many people had approached him in the last week, when something happened that made him shudder and almost throw up.

Something that made him cold and numb and yet afire with pain at the same time.

Something that hadn't happened in nineteen years…

Horrified, he whipped his hand back from the man, slumping slightly against the wall, struggling to keep himself upright as he fought with the inevitable truth. No… no… it couldn't be… The man's mouth stretched into a grimy smile, his yellow pointed teeth stark against his pale and scarred skin as his red eyes appraised Harry with a piercing look. Hang on… red… eyes…

He yelped as if the touch had burned him, his other hand darting to his pocket, but the man slowly shook his head and motioned behind his shoulder. There, in the clutches of the first woman, stood Lily. Harry felt his temper erupt, pure murderous rage pounding through his veins as he saw his daughter standing docilely by the woman's side. Her eyes had the glazed, vacant look of somebody who had been imperiused – and there was a lock of her hair missing…

As if everything was happening in slow motion, Harry turned to the door to the bathroom, white faced and almost shaking, as he realized the implications – as he realized exactly what must have happened.

"Ginny…" he whispered. Without a thought for Lily's safety, he turned and prepared to bolt into the bathroom, but not before his world turned upside down. An explosion, a cataclysmic wrenching apart of the earth at the seams shook the train station as flames burst from the inside of the place. His eyes dully reflected the fire as scorching heat burst from the door and the heat threatened to consume him… but he felt nothing, saw nothing beyond the man who had first shook his hand raising his wand, beyond the thin lipped woman grasping Lily's shoulder and protecting her from the blast…. at least… she was safe….

Harry felt like time had stopped. As people started screaming and running, as the station erupted into absolute chaos, and as the last of the flames died and the last of the embers faded into nothing, he stood silently and waited for Ginny to emerge from that fire – for his wife to laugh it off and wrap her arms around him and bury her soft hair into his chest… but that moment never came.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to the people standing behind him. To the woman and the man he'd never seen before in his life, but who he now hated with every shred of his soul. He had the burning desire to kill them, he thought he could now, he knew he could, but not when they had Lily… not now…

"Harry Potter." He turned to the man. It was taking all his restraint to not move, though his hand was itching for his wand. The only thing that stopped him was the firm hand on Lily's shoulder and the absolute lack of practice in magic that he'd had over the past few years. He wasn't as fast as he'd been… he wasn't nearly as strong….

"You think, no, you thought, Harry, that I had been vanquished." The soft hiss that came from the man's mouth neither surprised nor frightened him. He didn't think he'd feel anything again…

"That I, the greatest, most powerful wizard of all time, would not have a plan for my possible defeat?" The man's nose was growing flatter, his eyes were becoming smaller. Harry dully noted that they were alone in the station – everybody else had vanished. Kings Cross was empty but for them.

"You discovered my horcruxes, Harry Potter, but you could not conceive the notion that I would conquer another obstacle in my question for immortality."

Voldemort, or rather the man possessed by Voldemort, stepped closer to him. Harry felt his scar burning like it hadn't since he was seventeen, but ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

"Tell me, Harry, what of time?"

For the first time he looked into those red eyes, casting his glance behind the man only to make sure that Lily was still safe. In the distance, he could hear sirens growing louder with every second that passed. The police would be hard pressed to find the source of a magical explosion... unless it had been muggle so that the Ministry couldn't track its origins…. although, he thought vaguely, Voldemort would never lower himself to such a primitive weapon… muggle means were beneath him…

"You made a mistake in becoming complacent, and now I have the means to make my return, you must remain as such… if you do not want your lovely daughter to perish…"

Harry blinked and seemed to come back to life. His hand plunged into his pocket, but he couldn't draw his wand. Not when Lily was in danger. He had to protect her at all costs…. Voldemort seemed to sense his dilemma and laughed, the woman behind him trying and failing to hide a snigger – and all the while Lily just stood there… staring at him…

Finally, the Dark Lord lifted his hand and traced underneath Harry's chin, tilting his head up to stare into his eyes. Harry looked back, defiant, but frozen. His mind was dry, he could think of nothing except the knobbly hand settled on his daughter's shoulder and that blank look in her eyes…

"Goodbye, Harry Potter." He said in a hiss, dropping his hand and at once all three of them disapparated. Voldemort's words seemed to echo in the silence he'd left as Harry's temper seemed to override his senses. He kicked angrily at the wall behind him, wincing as his toe seemed to crack and the wall trembled ominously. Above him, the ceiling seemed barely able to hold its weight. Around him, as though opening his eyes for the first time, he noticed the destruction and chaos all around him. The walls of the bathroom had collapsed around him – leaving only where he stood intact. He realized, vaguely, that Voldemort had protected them both in the ensuing explosion.

But why had he protected Harry? He'd defeated him once… wouldn't he be able to do it again?

Then something occurred to him that left him stunned and unable to move.

There are things worse than death...

He knew one of them.

"GINNY!" Harry yelled as he spun and abruptly scrambled through what remained of the doorway into the bathroom beyond. The death eater (or whoever Voldemort's 'help' had been) that had been impersonating Lily had disappeared. The sinks were blown apart from the walls, the mirrors broken and lying in scattered pieces on the floor. All the cubicle walls had fallen except that of the furthest one… and there, in the middle of the floor, beneath a slab of dry wall with a shock of red hair spread over her face, was…

"Ginny…" He whispered, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees beside her. Her eyes were open but he couldn't help but think she looked strangely peaceful… she might have been sleeping if not for the odd angle her body made on the floor. Gently, hesitantly, he reached forward and slipped his hand underneath her head, rocking back onto his feet and laying it gently on his lap. Harry brushed her fringe back from her face and began to softly stroke her hair… even here… even now… he could smell the herbal aromas…

It was almost as if she was still alive.

The sirens suddenly stopped as he heard the pounding of footsteps signaling the entrance of firefighters and policemen rushing onto the scene. He heard them stop and low mutters begin as they saw him, but it meant nothing. It was background noise. It didn't matter now that… now that Ginny was… now that he was alone. He tensed as somebody approached but didn't stop in his tender caress. It wasn't until they draped their arm around his shoulder and attempted to pull him up did he react by violently pushing them away.

After a couple of attempts they resisted and withdrew, speaking among themselves again and attempting to clear the area, but it meant nothing to him.

"You… said you'd always be here for me Ginny…" He whispered lightly, looking down on her as though expecting a response, his throat abruptly clogging and his eyes prickling as she didn't reply.

She never would.

The firemen and policemen seemed to have sufficiently gathered themselves and two brave volunteers reached down, each taking one of Harry's arms, attempting to hoist him to his feet. "NO!" He yelled, startling them both, struggling against their vicegrips. It took another two latching on and dragging him backwards for him to move, Ginny's head falling from his knees and lolling on the ground below.

"NO!" Harry screamed, his throat tearing with the gut wrenching word, "GINNY!"

"There's nothing we can do..." He vaguely heard someone whispering as they dragged him away. "She's gone…"

It was the last he saw of her, lying peacefully on the floor, as he was pulled forcefully from the scene. It was then, staring at her lifeless body, that he caught a glimpse of another flash of red hair from underneath a crumpled cubicle door. But that was impossible... his eyes narrowed as he attempted to imprint the scene on his memory, remember exactly what it was he saw… but that was impossible. Ginny had been the one who'd been in there.

So why was it not only her body, but Lilys', on the bathroom floor?

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Ten minutes later, Harry knocked harshly at the door of the Burrow. He wasn't thinking anymore, he wasn't coherent. He'd escaped the interrogations of the police and had left moments before the Ministry arrived, before they could question him, before they could owl or Floo anyone… before anything could be done. He had to… he needed to… he wasn't sure of himself or what he was doing but he knew if there was ever a moment he needed Ron and Hermione the most then it was right now.

He pounded the wood beneath his fist, angry at the thought of his best friends not even being home right when he needed them the most… when it flew open and exposed Hermione's startled face.

"Harry?!"

He lurched inside and just managed to get over the threshold before he almost fainted. He felt himself caught by Hermione's arms as she yelled for Ron and he clung desperately to her arms as though she were his last anchor to this earth. He barely heard Ron's exclamation of surprise but felt his strong arms aiding hers as they took his weight between them and carried him into the lounge.

Harry shuddered weakly; well aware of the familiar throbbing in his scar and the way it seemed to pound more furiously with every small moment.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

Hermione's face swam into his line of vision and he desperately tried to focus on her startled eyes, but his gaze kept being drawn to the mantle over the fireplace behind her, where a large picture of the four of them laughing – taken only the previous summer - watched over them all… she'd never laugh again…

Ron nervously looked towards the door, seemingly realizing something. Slowly, with an expression of stark fear on his face, he turned towards Harry with trepidation.

"Harry… mate…" He said quietly, as though unable to believe his own words, "… where's Ginny?"

They were both looking at him as he tried to form the word. He couldn't say it… but seeing Ron's pale face and Hermione's panic... he had to... he owed them it...

"… she's… gone…"

Hermione frowned. "You mean… she left you?" and seeming to accept that thought as fact, continued, "why would she do that!? She loves yo- WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Harry vaguely realized that in any other situation, at any other time, her abrupt change in mood would've been funny…

"No." He continued, lips barely moving as he fumbled the words, "she's…"

"URGENT MESSAGE FOR MR RONALD WEASLEY AND MRS HERMIONE WEASLEY FROM THE MINISTER OF MAGIC."

Hermione squeaked and all three of them turned as the head of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in the flames, looking abruptly weary. Harry thought he seemed to gather his courage, before he spoke.

"Ron… Hermione…" he started gently, then seemed to frown at his own tone and continued softly, though more determinedly, "I have some bad ne- oh." His eyes focused on Harry, lying there stricken and shaking on the couch and he seemed immediately uncomfortable.

"Sorry if I'm... interrupting… I guess you all already know then. Know that we're doing all we can to discover who's behind it. Harry, I need to talk with you urgently about exactly what happened, but it can wait until … a day better suited. My condolences… Ginny is, and always was, an amazing, confident, courageous and generous person… and Lily… I'm afraid I've only met Lily a couple of times, but from what I know, she was truly a kind and lovely girl. I am truly sorry…"

Kingsley disappeared with a short 'pop'. The silence seemed louder then anything else ever could. There was no movement in the room, no sound except for Harry's harsh breathing and the faint shutting of a door upstairs. He felt like time had slowed down immensely again as Ron and Hermione both turned towards him with a horrified kind of clarity.

"No…" Hermione whispered, eyes filling with tears. Within seconds she'd collapsed on the couch as Ron sunk down beside her. Absently, numbly, the Weasley drew Hermione close to him and started stroking her hair. Harry realized with a start that it was exactly how he'd been stroking Ginny's hair earlier that day, and what had happened that he hadn't yet revealed. If he was to figure this out then they had to know…

But then Ron turned to him with the blank, scary expression that Harry associated with the betrayal of close friends – like he'd done something wrong. He felt immediately angry towards his best friend, like he was being blamed.

"There was nothing I could do, alright?!" He raged suddenly, feeling his temper and frustration burst from him like water breaking down a dam's wall. "It wasn't me! I would never, ever do anything to harm Ginny, ever. You have to believe me!"

"Of course I believe you." Ron's voice cracked, as his expression became horrified and Harry felt all his rage leave as quickly as it'd come. Like a deflated balloon, he sunk down in his seat, feeling all his energy and willpower leaving him in one deft hit. Luckily, both Ron and Hermione seemed to understand, just like Harry knew they would. Everyone had different means of expressing themselves and it happened that his was anger, even if it was sadly misdirected. It'd been a long time ago they'd first learnt that lesson…

Shaking his head of nostalgia, he turned back to his friends.

"Listen," He said quietly, surprisingly calm, "I know who did it. I know who's responsible. It was Voldemort."

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, Ron and Hermione turned towards him, their faces etched with identical expressions of raw fear.

"But Harry…" Hermione started softly, "He's gone.. you killed him.. we killed him. We made sure of it. There's no wa-"

"But there is." Harry cut her off impatiently. "He found a way. He told me what he did, right before he took Lily-"

He paused and exhaled slowly.

"She was imperiused; if I had moved; if I had done anything… they would've killed her." He continued in a low whisper. He hadn't helped her… she was his daughter and he hadn't lifted a finger…

Twenty years ago, he would've instantly leapt to her defense. He could've overpowered the man and removed his wand, then removed the woman's' and Lily would be with him now… but she would have died before he'd gotten that far. Or would she? Shaking his head lightly, Harry returned to the conversation.

"I…"

Hermione responded by placing a hand lightly on his knee, making him realize just how violently he was trembling.

"Harry… are you sure Lily was… kidnapped?"

Ron looked equally as confused. "Didn't Kingsley just say that…"

Harry let out a heaving sigh and buried his head in his hands. "You don't believe me, do you?" He replied eventually, his voice strangely muffled. But even if there was a chance Lily was dead, a very slim chance, that didn't change the fact that she was gone… Ginny. Had the last however many years of his life amounted to nothing? He didn't know if he could live without her… what was he going to tell James and Albus…. they didn't have a mum anymore, their sister had been kidnapped and worst of all – it'd been Voldemort who'd done it. Everything always led back to him… Harry was the only person who had a chance to defeat him... but he couldn't do anything while they had Lily.

His life was out of his control again – but this time he was being dragged into it kicking and screaming. Harry would once have gladly given his life for the sake of the Wizarding world – but would he be able to do it again?

They stayed that way for a minute, each lost in their own thoughts, before Hermione spoke up.

"I think… no matter what the situation." And she cast a worried look at Ron at this point, confirming Harry's suspicions that she thought he was off his rocker, "we should tell the higher ups." Her voice was soft and distant, like she'd whispered the words. "Starting with Professor McGonagall and Neville. They have to know what happened."

Ron turned to Harry. "She'll know what to do." He said, with startling resolve. "And if he has got Lily or… if she is… dead… or if Ginny…" he cleared his throat, "Or even if Voldemort is really back… we'll get everyone back together again to figure it out – just like last time."

He nodded, but the words chilled him. Just like last time… it was happening all over again. Sure he was older, wiser, more powerful… even though he was out of practice… but at the same time he knew that it wouldn't be his age that gave him any sort of edge over Voldemort and his followers. He felt he should be angry about this, about having beaten the so-called Dark Lord once, about so many people having died in the name of light and justice, just for it to happen all over again... but he was too numb.

Everything would come to a head later, that much he could understand – but right now all he could think about was Ginny and Lily as his guilt gnawed its way into his heart.

"Come on," Hermione said gently, "Let's go to Hogwarts."