Author's Note: (looks guilty) H-hi! I know I should be working on my other story... sorry. And it's been forever... There's really no exuse for that.

Disclaimer: Nothing that seems familiar to you belongs to me. And I wish I would make money off of this, but sadly I can't.

Now, on to the story!

Harry Potter and the War's Beginning

It was the usual summer evening in Surrey. The streets were empty except for the occasional animal that scuttled across the pavement, and the small shops in the city were closed for the night.

Everyone could be found in their home settling in for a nice, quiet evening with the air conditioning, quite content to discuss mundane topics; a new celebrity scandal, the heat, and the problem with kids today. None of them were aware of the war brewing that could result in the death of thousands. None knew of a place where flying broomsticks was a sport, where it was considered completely normal to show up at a hospital with tentacles spouting out from your head.

Except for the relatives of Harry Potter that is, though they wished it wasn't so. They detested anything of that sort, but they were satisfied as long as the boy and his 'funny business' stayed out of their way, an order he was happy to comply with. It was this reason that Harry Potter could be found in a narrow alley walking away from the Dursley's.

Harry had made a habit of wandering further and further from his so-called 'home' on walks since he got back, and tonight was no different. He assumed it wasn't a problem, as no one from the Order had ever told him off for it.

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance whenever he thought about the Order. They watched him constantly, for which he was grateful so something like last summer wouldn't happen, but they never made contact with him. He knew he shouldn't be angry, it was for his safety, and they were most likely under Dumbledore's strict orders, but he couldn't help but feel they were being over paranoid. It's not like the death eaters routinely had a relaxing stroll up Wisteria Walk.

None of the members had revealed themselves to Harry during his walks, even when he had demanded it to the empty streets, hoping for some company and possibly a little news, but that didn't shake his confidence that they were there. If Harry listened hard enough when he was alone outside, he could discern the sound of feet following him or small rustlings in the bushes when he was in the garden, but then he couldn't be sure if it was just a small animal. On one occasion there had been a large crash of trash bins as they fell, apparently by themselves, but could have been none other than Tonks.

The only thing he had to take his mind off of his frustration -among other things- was his homework. There wasn't as much to do as the previous summers because most of the professors didn't know which students would be in their class next term.

But of coarse, Snape had assigned more summer work in a single assignment than they had ever received before, sneering at them as they groaned silently. Some of the bolder students had outright refused to do the assignment, confident they would never return to the dreaded potions room. That was a mistake.

No one dared to skip the essay now. Snape had angrily threatened to deduct 500 points to anyone who skipped the assignment, if they were in the newt class or not, and he had assured the class, most of them wouldn't be.

In any case, the small distraction of homework was not going to last for much longer. Harry had started the nasty essay over everything the potions class had covered in the past five years that morning. It was slow work. Harry would sit for minutes, letting his attention wander until unwelcome thoughts, mainly the prophecy, would drift into his mind and he would have to push them down before figuring out where he stopped reading, only to have the cycle continue the rest of the day. Finally, fed up with the work on a subject he hated, Harry decided to take a walk to clear his head.

It wasn't helping at all. If anything, the thoughts and emotions now roiling in his mind were making him more edgy and confused, and the night's air was far from refreshing.

It was suffocating and seemed as stagnate as bog water from the humidity. The stickiness seemed to cling to his skin, making any movement uncomfortable against his overlarge clothes, and a dark haze was clouding the air. There wasn't a breath of wind, no quiet whisper in the trees; only an unnatural silence hung in the air.

It made Harry nervous and he couldn't help it. At random he would glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was there, half expecting to see some one draped in a cloak and mask, even when his good sense told him there wasn't. Sometimes Harry would feel the hairs on his neck stand on end, and he would get the creepy sensation some one was watching him.

Another Order member most likely, Harry thought wearily, trying to ignore how worried he really was. Feelings like these had been creeping up on him lately, and as much as Harry scolded himself for it, he couldn't help it. He didn't like feeling watched. Even so, he had never felt as uncomfortable as this before.

Maybe it's a death-eater. The idea made him shiver, and he pushed it away. It isn't possible, Harry told himself firmly, keeping in mind the blood protection explained to him by Dumbledore. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder again. He was safe. He would always have an Order member with him. Suddenly, the extra protection didn't seem so pointless, but that didn't help him shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

I wonder how far the protection goes… Harry wondered as he crossed an empty road into an unfamiliar street, mapping the area out in his mind as best he could in the vapor. The Headmaster had made it sound like the protection followed him everywhere, only to be renewed by his relatives ever summer, but Dumbledore had been vague enough to leave things to question, just like everything else in his life. Harry intended on asking about it next year despite the fact he never got straight answers. There had to be some other sort of wards around his house.

Harry glanced back at the small pavement road. Something wasn't right, and he couldn't figure it out. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch, a presence that he couldn't take his mind off of and had to just put up with.

Harry reached a small park with a gate surrounding it and stopped, frowning in confusion. It was the same park he had been in last year when he saw Dudley's gang. He must have walked in a circle without knowing it. The wizard shrugged to himself and jumped over the gate.

As Harry looked around he noticed that it was still in bad shape, and wiped his face with his sleeve, as sweat condensed on his forehead. It looked like Dudley's gang had finished off the swing set and now there was graffiti scattered on most of the other equipment. Some of the trash bins were tipped over, there contents strewn along the narrow cement path. It didn't look like a good place for kids to be.

Harry hopped around a rotten box that smelled of acrid socks and stepped onto the parched brown grass. It was brittle and crunched under his feet as he wandered the park. Gradually, the grass thinned to dirt and he found himself standing in front of an old gnarled tree.

With interest he realized there were carvings on the tree. There were things like Jess was here, Nick's Tree, and B.E. and M.L. Forever with a heart around it engraved in the old bark.

I wonder if these people are still around… Harry wondered. Looking closely his eyes fell on something that looked suspiciously like a large crudely designed 'D'. When he stopped reading, Harry sat down, leaning his back against the trunk as he felt two weeks worth of bad sleep catch up to him. He closed his eyes and let himself relax on the ground. The humidity felt unbearable.

The minutes slipped by as Harry let his mind wander. The events at the end of the year still stuck out clearly, playing over like a movie in his mind; occlumency, yelling at his friends, breaking in to Umbrige's office, riding the threstals to the ministry, the fight, the prophecy…Sirius… Tiredly Harry shook his head, trying to steer his mind to more welcome thoughts. His godfather's death still hurt as much as it did that night, it was just a different type of pain; an ache that constricted his throat and brought tears to his eyes that wouldn't fall.

No more explosions, no more of the screaming rants that had driven the Dursley's past the brink of their tolerance the first few days; just resigned sadness that he would never again see his godfather, at least in life. Death was an entirely different matter; the next great adventure; one that he hoped would be later rather than sooner, but with the prophecy over his head…

Desperately Harry cast about for anything else to think of. Wondering about the prophecy made him feel sickeningly anxious, and he would end up imagining what the day would be like when it finally happened. Anything was better than that.

Surprisingly, the next thing to pop into his head was the Dursley's. They were acting stranger (than normal) toward him this year, especially Aunt Petunia. He caught her giving him odd looks when she thought no one was looking, but it could have been the fact that he looked worse than he ever had in the past fifteen years of his life. Harry barely slept or ate, and felt tired most of the day. At other times he was edgy and easily angered.

It was easy to tell Uncle Vernon was having a constant battle of the wills. Purple was now a common color for his face. He saw a Harry as more of a threat to his family since the dementors, but his fear of Moody kept him sufficiently cowed.

And Dudley's hatred of Harry seemed to have increased tenfold since last summer. He threw punches at the under aged wizard when no one was around. And if that didn't work, which it normally didn't considering Harry's fast reflexes, Dudley would resort to taunting Harry.

But Harry had yet to rise to the bait. He knew what would happen if he got out of control. Dudley probably still blamed him for the dementors and failed to realize he was still alive because Harry saved his arse. The only thing that confused Harry was why Dudley reacted so badly to the dementor. What would spoiled, pampered, Dinkydums have had to relive that was so horrible? A day with only three meals instead of the usual seven?

Harry was still imagining what Dudley could have seen when a shrill screech cut through the tense silence, making him jump. He jerked his head up; looking in the direction it came, and saw the vague outline of large owl perched on a dark street lamp beside the crumbling park gate.

Harry felt a sickening wave of horror in the pit of his stomach, and his eyes grew wide as he realized what he was seeing. His heart pounded in fear. The lights are out! Harry thought as he felt the beginnings of panic and jumped to his feet.

It can't be them… Harry's mind raced. Not again… He looked around wildly for what he knew was coming. He strained his senses for the sound of a rattling breathe, or the feel of ice. But the cold feeling of ice did not come, nor did the sound of his mother's screaming. Harry stared at the darkness in confusion. What was going on?

Then with a great rush of relief he remembered what the news caster on the telly had said earlier. Due to intense heat, the local power company had to switch transformers, and people should not be alarmed if the power went out at 10:00 for about twenty minutes.

His pulse began to slow down to its normal rate and he caught his breath. For a moment he had thought dementors had come again. I am way too jumpy… Harry mentally shook himself as he calmed downed enough to feel annoyed. Who can blame me? He thought. Not many people have an evil madman screaming bloody murder at every turn in their lives.

Suddenly, the owl screeched again, and Harry squinted at it through the darkness. As he walked closer he realized there was something attached to its leg. Glancing around to check for muggles Harry approached the lamp and looked up at the owl. It was breathing heavily as if it had just traveled a long distance in a short amount of time, and its eyes glowed eerily in the darkness as it turned its head to and fro.

At a loss of what else to do Harry called up to it to get its attention.

"Hey!" He whispered as loud as he could manage, waving his arms in the air.

The owl blinked… Well, owlishly at him; as if it wasn't really sure what to make of the skinny kid with hair messy enough to make a good nest.

"That letter for me?"

It turned its head to the side and studied him; it's reflecting eyes narrowed in what looked like a disapproving manner.

"Come on, give me the letter!" Harry said encouragingly, hoping to goad it down.

The bird let out a loud screech that made him wince and it ruffled its feathers, clicking it's beak in something similar to an irritated huff.

"Please?"

After a couple seconds of silent staring it seemed to reach a conclusion. The owl hooted and spread its wings, gliding to Harry's outstretched arm. Up close he could see the bird's grey and black feathers, and intelligent eyes that reminded him of Hedwig.

Seemingly bored, the owl clicked its beak and stretched its wings.

"Can I have the letter?" Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to risk it flying away.

It gave him another long look, before lazily stretching out its leg.

Harry tugged and fumbled with the string in the dark, and eventually got the rolled up paper off the owl's leg.

"Off you go then." He said, lifting his arm so the bird could take off without its wings hitting Harry's face. It just sat on his arm contently staring at him.

"Er… you can go, I got the letter." Harry waved the parchment in the bird's face. It turned its head to the side in amusement.

"Do you need a reply?" It shook its head no, and calmly walked up his arm, making itself comfortable on his shoulder.

"Er, okay then."

Moving carefully so as not to disturb the owl from its perch Harry broke the seal on the paper and unrolled it, hoping he could read the words in the dark. But to his surprise, the parchment was empty.

"That's odd…" Harry said to no one in particular as he checked the back for a message. But then, just as Harry began to roll the parchment back up, it disintegrated in a puff of silver smoke and the ashes fell to the ground forming the pattern of a phoenix in flight. Harry backed up uncertainly when the smoke began to float toward him as if caught on an invisible breeze.

By the time the silver cloud surrounded his head, he was slightly panicked and nervously realized it didn't smell like smoke. In fact it smelled similar to Grimmauld Place.

Suddenly Harry could hear noises all around him; the sounds of feet and robes rustling quickly, and people calling to each other. In the distance he thought he could hear Ron yelling at someone, but a closer voice blocked out all other sound.

"Harry, there is no time to explain. Go back to the house immediately!"

With that the sound ended and the smell evaporated with the smoke, leaving Harry standing dazed in the middle of the park. He had never heard of letters doing that before.

It had been Mr. Weasley's voice, and he had sounded worried, not to mention all the people in the background. The first thought that crossed his mind was that something bad had happened; maybe a death eater attack. Why else would he be commanded to go back? Unless he was in trouble, but Harry could think of nothing he had done.

Harry jogged to the fence, jumped to the other side, and immediately ran to the nearest alley, finding comfort in the fact that no one could see him. Though now it seemed much more imposing and menacing than earlier, the darkness was to his advantage if someone was looking for him.

Not to mention the neighbors… Harry thought as he passed a window. If no one could see him then they couldn't give him funny looks. Over his time at Hogwarts the Dursleys had made it well known that Harry was crazy and should be avoided. It didn't help that he looked like a trouble maker with his messy hair, whale fitted clothes, and the haunted look that currently settled in his emerald eyes; eyes that told the world he had seen too much for someone his age. He hated it when people watched and judged him without actually getting to know him, whether to them he was the-boy-who-lived or "that Potter boy," who went to St. Brutus's.

Panting slightly, Harry stopped when he reached the end of the alley, mind racing as he looked out to the quiet street for anything out of the ordinary. He could see the Dursley home in the distance, a perfect example of normalcy. The only thing separating it from the other buildings was the number four on the mailbox, and the car in the drive way. He didn't want to go back there to be called a freak or ignored. He hated that place. Years of hell…living in a cupboard…being kicked around by Dudley's gang…everything that place stood for. He hated it to the bottom of his being.

But he had been ordered to go back there without explanation. He couldn't help but feel resentful again. Harry felt alone and out of the loop. It was two weeks that felt like forever since he left school, and he hadn't had one friendly letter. The only thing he received was the reply from the Order when he sent Hedwig, and that was usually short and to the point.

We got your letter. Everything is fine. Don't get in trouble. We'll find out when you can leave.

It was turning out to be as bad as last year. Was Dumbledore going to keep him in the dark again? Did he think it was too dangerous to even be sent letters?Harry missed his friends, and he missed Hogwarts so much that it felt like physical pain; a dull ache in his chest that wouldn't leave. It had been ok to be alone the first eleven years of his life when he knew nothing else. But now that he knew what friends were like, he couldn't stand being away from them.

Especially now… Harry swallowed the painful lump in his throat and blinked as his eyes burned with unshed tears. He missed Sirius more than he liked to admit. Harry had lost the closest thing to a parent he had, and he would give up anything if that hadn't happened, if he hadn't decided to 'play the hero'. It was his fault and now he was dealing with the consequences. He never even got to say goodbye… Bloody hell… Harry thought in frustration, as he gazed out at the still empty street. I just want to see him one more time!

CRACK! ARGH! CRASH!

What the! Harry spun at lighting speed as a large trash can on the other end of the alley toppled over. There was a series of muffled groans and angry mutters. In a flash he had his wand in his hand, his heart racing madly in his chest. That was definitely a witch or wizard, Harry thought as the letter's warning raced through his head. It was too late now. At least it was too dark for anyone to see him. He melted into the shadows.

Harry could vaguely see the dark figures of two people trying to detangle themselves from the mess and each other on the ground. One of them was muttering something as they stood and helped the other up.

"It worked!" A familiar voice whispered harshly in excitement.

"It hurt is what it did! I TOLD you we'd land on something! I TOLD you!"

"Shut it Ron! So I'm new at this! At least we didn't splinch ourselves!"

Harry watched dazed as the outlines of his best friends continued to bicker. It suddenly occurred to Harry that it might not be Ron or Hermione. It could be some elaborate trap to draw him out… and that was what the letter was warning him about. He began to creep through the darkness towards the figures.

"Fine!" Ron's frustrated voice rang through the alley. "But where are we! Does this look like Harry's house to you!"

"I don't know what Harry's house looks like! I've never seen it! I just looked at a map of the area to figure out where to apperate!" said Hermione sounding close to hysterical. Harry froze as he stepped on a piece of glass that snapped and broke. They didn't notice. He let out the breathe he didn't realize he was holding and continued on. They sounded like Ron and Hermione, but it could be an act…

"Oh bloody hell!" Ron exploded. "We could be anywhere! Thanks a lot Hermy-"

"DON'T call me that!" Hermione yelled back. "I told you I've never done this before!"

Harry laughed when he heard Hermione's nickname and had to put his fist in his mouth to stifle to sound. No one but his best friends would know Gwap's name for her, and no one else could bicker like they did. But his laugh had given him away and their fight was immediately called off.

"What was that?" Ron whispered, staring with wide eyes into the dark haze trying to find the source of the noise.

"Who's there!" Hermione demanded as she flicked her wand into her hand, ignoring Ron hissing at her to put it away. Harry was shaking from the effort to stop laughing.

"There's no point in hiding! I know your there! Show yourself!" Hermione said

dangerously. Harry couldn't help him self. He snickered again.

"Stupefy!" she cried pointing her wand in Harry's direction. A red light raced toward Harry, and he threw himself to the side with a cry of surprise, knocking over a pile of boxes as he tried to regain his footing. Their contents spilled onto the ground in a clatter. He hadn't expected Hermione to curse him.

Before he could move he heard Hermione shout. "Petrificus Totalus!" A stream of white light shot from her wand, hitting Harry squarely in the chest making him teeter dangerously backwards, and fall.

"Hermione! What if it's a muggle?" Ron yelled in a strangled voice. "Mum's gonna kill me!" he moaned.

"Well let's find out shall we?" She answered. Not for the last time Harry wondered if he and Ron had been a bad influence on Hermione. What happened to the first year girl that yelled at them for sneaking out at night? Now here she was doing magic illegally out side of school and… Doing magic? Harry thought in shock. The ministry will be here any second! How did they apparate with out getting in trouble? Wasn't there some one that was supposed to watch for that? What of the Order for that matter? Where was his body guard when some one just succeeded in attacking him? Harry watched his friends as his thoughts raced through his mind.

"Lumos!" Hermione whispered softly, and a single beam of light burst from her wand revealing the scene before them.

"HARRY!" The two teens shouted in unison, and Hermione launched herself at Harry hugging him tightly.

So... good? bad? Couldn't stand it? TELL ME! And I don't think I'll have another chapter this long again so... don't get used to it. And I would like to have a beta so if anyone is interested please email me! Thanks a bunch!