The night was still and quiet. The light of the moon shown slightly the through the blinds and in the distance you could hear an owl hoot imploringly.

But a man in the bed apparently wasn't feeling as tranquil for he was tossing vigorously, as though trying to dislodge an invisible attacker. Moans of horror escaped his mouth, and if he had been awake, he would've been mortified.

For you see…this man… he was perhaps one of the strongest, unmovable aurors that the wizarding world had once known. He had trained under the best…been the best. He did not show weakness.

And these sounds of pain, they were most definitely a weakness. A show of emotion that probably no one knew he was capable of producing.

With a start and slight shout the man shot straight awake, gasping slightly. His wand was immediately in his hand and his wide eyes were searching desperately for a threat that wasn't present.

With a sigh he lowered his wand and rubbed gingerly at his eyes. One more night lost.

Gawain Robards threw the bed sheets off of himself with a reluctant sigh. Was one whole night of sleep too much to ask for? Apparently someone thought so…

In fact, his wish for sleep had been disregarded for nearly five months. In those five months deep, purple circles had developed under his eyes, grey hair peppered though his normally dark hair and his weight had dropped substantially.

But the biggest change, perhaps, was a little more subtle. His eyes, which in his school days were filled with mirth and laughter, were now dark and dead.

He had turned from a joyous, fun-loving guy, into someone who might as well be dead. He had essentially lost the part that made himself human.

Gawain fumbled with the alarm clock as his tilted towards himself.

3:02. Lovely.

Back in his Hogwarts days Gawain had been considered handsome. He was tall, maybe 6'3" or so with sharp angular features.

His dark hair was cut short, now showing strands of grey mixing with dark brown.

His eyes were a dark, midnight blue, and many would say that they penetrated you to the core. With that deep, dark penetrating gaze, it was as if he could see into a persons soul; see their truths, lies, and intentions.

It was hard, many agreed to tell whether the man was just a good interrogator or it was his superb legillimency skills at play.

Dragging himself out of bed, Gawain furiously rubbed at his aching leg, as though by rubbing it he could just infuse some of his magic through the skin in order to heal it.

He was getting so damn old, Gawain thought as he limped through his bedroom and down the hallway.

Quietly as he could he pushed another door open.

Taking out his wand, he silently lit it, taking heed not to wake the occupant that lay in the dwarf sized bed.

Now Gawain would be the first one to admit that he didn't harbor a particular fondness for children. They were loud, messy, and full of mischief. Indeed more trouble than they were worth.

But there was an exception. Well, two but that was beside the point.

This child, Liam, who lay in this bed, curled up by the wall was perhaps the cutest little boy known to man.

He had dark hair like his grandfather that lay curly on top of his head. The dimples on his cheek made his smile endearing and undeniable. When open, his blue eyes were full of mischief and childhood innocence.

Still, even that innocence had been interrupted far too early. His childhood had been violently interrupted and Gawain grabbed his chest with a grunt of pain as guilt stabbed at his chest.

Lowering himself to sit on his grandsons bed, Gawain very gently stroked Liam's hair, soothing both the boy and himself.

Liam sighed and clutched his stuffed lion closer to his chest but otherwise remained asleep.

"One day," Gawain spoke softly to Liam "you'll have a normal childhood. I promise you."

With one last kiss to his forehead, Gawain stood and walked quietly out of the room.

Deeming sleep quite literally a lost cause, Gawain headed towards the kitchen, ready for some coffee in sleeps wake.

Pushing the door open, the paranoid auror stopped dead in his tracks.

Basic training told him that at the very least he should've at least drawn his wand. But apparently shock inhibits ones common sense.

A large, dark skinned man sat calmly at the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. He was an imposing man to say the least – 6'4" and definitely not a twig.

Bruises and cuts littered his skin. A particularly nasty cut above his eye was leaking blood down the side of his face and he favored his left hand as though his right caused him considerable pain.

And all this time he sat, as serene as he ever was.

But the man's injuries were not what shocked Gawain the most. No, he was an auror and as such, used to blood and gore.

Common sense told him that this man should not be here. This man who was on the list of deadliest and most wanted. Not this man who had a bounty on his head close to 20,000 galleons.

In fact, there were very few on that list that ranked higher than he.

Gawain opened his mouth "Shacklebolt?"

"Robards" Shacklebolt answered in his usual deep, slow voice.

"Is there a particular reason you're sitting here in my kitchen or are you just trying to lure the death eaters to my home?"

Shacklebolt chuckled a deep, rather dark laugh. Gawain for the life of him couldn't figure out what was so amusing about his impending murder.

I hardly think that you'll find any death eaters at our house on this night, Robards."

"Yeah. And why's that?"

"Because they're all at Hogwarts."

"Excuse me?"

Kingsley sighed. "Well I guess that I should say most of them are still at Hogwarts. Some of them escaped."

Gawain felt as though he were missing a big part of this puzzle. "Am I missing something?"

Kingsley looked at him deeply with eyes that seen too much. "Voldemort's dead, Gawain."

Gawain froze, sure that the words he had just heard had not just been spoken. Waiting at least for Kingsley to yell "Gotcha!" But when Kingsley made no move to speak, he responded.

"What?" Well that was profound.

"There was a battle at Hogwarts last night. Voldemort was defeated."

"How is that even possible?"

Now Kingsley just looked annoyed. "Wish I knew. It was Harry who took care of him. Don't know what those bloody kids have been up to for a year," he grumbled though Gawain was sure for a second that he could hear a hint of fondness in his voice.

Harry. "Potter?" He asked incredulously.

Gawain didn't know anybody from the ministry who was on good enough terms with Potter to speak with him on a first name basis. In fact, most had created rather…creative nicknames.

When Scrimgeour was in office he usually just referred to him as "that bloody boy."

But Gawain had harbored a sneaking suspicion for a while now that Kingsley was part of the infamous "Order of the Phoenix".

He was always off doing odd sort of jobs and had been rather close to Dumbledore before his death.

"So it's over then?" He asked, hardly daring to believe it. He could feel his hands trembling.

Kingsley tore his eyes away from the auror and for a second Gawain could've sworn that he saw tears in Kingsley's eyes.

But the instant after he looked back into them and they were dry, Gawain was sure that he had imagined it.

Kingsley was always so calm and composed and for that Gawain felt a stab of pride for the man. He had been the one to train him, had been the one to recognize the raw talent the kid had displayed.

"Over? Hardly. That was the easy part. Recovering shall be infinitely harder."

Kingsley took another sip from the glass.

"It was bloody. Very bloody. There are a lot of people dead tonight, Gawain."

Gawain felt a stab in his chest as he remembered…

"Why are you here, Kingsley?"

"They've named me interim Minister of Magic."

"Congratulations"

Kingsley laughed darkly. "Hardly. This position, right now, will be the death of me."

"That doesn't explain why you're here…"

Kingsley rubbed absentmindedly at the dried blood on his face. "It's time for you to choose sides, Gawain. You can't just be a bystander anymore."

Gawain sighed, knowing that it would come to this. "You ask too much of me, Kingsley."

"Perhaps. But at this moment I need the best auror to head the department. I also need to rebuild the order…"

"You're asking me join the order?"

"Yes"

Gawain pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why now?"

"Because we need the best people if we're going to start over."

Silence resonated in the kitchen. And then with a resigned sigh Gawain relented. "Fine. What do you need me to do?"

There was almost a ghost of a smile on Kingsley's face. "Now I need you to come to Hogwarts with me. It's time to survey the damage."

"Liam's sleeping upstairs."

"You're in the Order now body. The Order means family. There are plenty of good people willing to watch out for him."

Kingsley stood up. "Oh. And you're going to want to prepare yourself. What you're about to see. Well, it's just bloody devastating."

Next chaper switches to Harry's POV