The moment that Harry Potter woke up that morning, he knew that something was wrong. It was a feeling he had not experienced in a long, long time, and yet it was achingly familiar. He frowned up at the ceiling, trying to pinpoint what was wrong. It was almost a full minute before he realised he was unconsciously rubbing the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

With a yelp, he shot out of the bed, his heart pounding. Why did his scar hurt again? It had been almost fourteen years since he had felt it burn, but the same feeling of dread still accompanied it. Where was Ginny when he needed her? He briefly considered using the Floo network to contact her, but quickly decided against it; since Arthur had retired, her department was completely swamped, the last thing she needed was a panicked phone call from her husband.

'Dad?'

Harry turned and found Albus standing in the doorway, looking sleepy but concerned. His auburn hair had taken on a life of its own overnight and was standing up in every possible direction. Harry smiled and tried to put his worry to the back of his mind. 'Didn't mean to wake you, Al', he apologised, 'I just...er...stubbed my toe. I've to get up for work now anyway, but you go back to bed. James and Lily are still asleep I think.'

Albus gave his father a look that told Harry he didn't believe him for a second, but his tiredness won out, and with a nod and a yawn, he turned and traipsed back towards his room. With a sigh, Harry quickly got dressed in jeans and a shirt, shoving his robes into the rucksack he always carried. 'Muggle habits die hard', Hermione would say if she were here. Neither she nor Harry had ever given up wearing Muggle clothes altogether. Thinking about Hermione brought the frown back to Harry's face; it was months since he had seen her. Albus told him she seemed content, if not happy, when he saw her at Hogwarts. The same could not be said for Ron.

Speak of the devil. There was a quiet knock on the front door, which Harry only heard because he was expecting it. Taking his bag, he tiptoed down the stairs and opened the door to find Ron standing in front of him. Harry closed the door quietly behind him and the two set off silently down the driveway.

'Any word?' Harry asked gently, risking a glance at his dishevelled friend, who shook his head forlornly.

'She's not coming home', he said dejectedly, 'I really blew it this time.'

Harry wanted to say 'yes Ron, you really REALLY did', but he resisted the temptation. 'have you spoken to her?' he asked instead.

'No', Ron moaned, 'she won't answer my owls! When I go up there in person, she sends Hagrid to get rid of me! She's not speaking to any of our friends, and she's forbidden Rose and Hugo from telling me anything that she says!'

'And Lavender?'

Ron stopped in his tracks and glared at Harry. 'What about her?'

Harry hesitated. 'Have you...seen her?'

'No Harry! I have not seen her! Nor do I want to! Ever again! I made one mistake, ONE MISTAKE!' Ron's voice had elevated quite considerably, and Harry's shushing noises only served to annoy him further.

'I know I know', Harry hissed, 'keep your voice down! I only meant, if Hermione hears you saw Lavender it won't help!'

'Do you know how awkward work is for me now?' Ron demanded angrily, walking again now but at such a pace that Harry had to jog beside him. 'I mean, I can't go NEAR the Minister's office! I have to have Benjamin run back and forth all day with my notes to Kingsley, it's ridiculous! But I'm doing it, because I want Hermione back!'

'I know', Harry said soothingly, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply I thought you two were...I mean...do you want me to go up to the school? See if she'll see me? I've written to her plenty but she's ignored all the owls.'

Ron sighed and ran his hands through his shaggy hair (Harry noted that he would have to make sure he cut it before Hermione could see him). 'I don't think it will help', he said despondently, 'but you could try.'

'I'll go up tonight, if Ginny's home early. I was thinking of taking Albus up there myself anyway, instead of letting him go back alone. I think St. Mungo's let him go too early, he's still got quite a cough, Ginny won't be happy sending him back without someone accompanying him.'

By this time, the two men had arrived at the phone box that would take them down to the Ministry of Magic. As they stepped into the booth, Harry felt a particularly sharp pain in his scar, and for a fleeting moment, he had an image of his fifteen-year-old self crammed into that same phone box with all of his friends...

'Harry! You okay mate?'

Harry snapped back to the present to find Ron looking at him worriedly. 'You look pretty pale Harry', he commented, 'maybe you're coming down with what Albus had?'

Harry shook his head and forced a smile. There was no point in bothering Ron with his niggling worry just now. 'I'm fine', he lied, 'just didn't sleep that well last night.'

'Second floor. Department of Magical Law Enforcement, incorporating the Wizengamot Administration Services, Improper Use of Magic Office and Auror Headquarters' , the lift interjected. The doors slid smoothly open, and Harry and Ron headed down the corridor to their respective offices in the Aurors' Department. Once inside his office, Harry closed the door firmly, collapsed into his chair and covered his face with his hands.

Voldemort was gone. Harry's scar had not pained him since that day...the day when they had both died, but only Harry had been brought back. He had thought he was free, that his scar was now nothing more than a scar, instead of a link to his enemy. It had been several years before Harry had begun to really feel at peace...to put the past behind him and comprehend a future without fear, pain or loss. He was not sure that he could handle it if...

No, he told himself sternly, he can't be back. We destroyed all of the Horcruxes. He's gone forever. This pain has nothing to do with him...

There was a knock on the door, and Lucy Dale, Harry's secretary, stuck her head around the door. 'Good morning Mr. Potter', she said cheerfully, 'shall I bring in your post?'

'Please do', Harry replied pleasantly, 'and it's Harry, Lucy.'

'I'm sorry Mr. Potter?'

'It's Harry. It's been two years, I really prefer to be called Harry.'

'Yes Mr. Potter!' Lucy disappeared momentarily, before appearing once more, this time sidling into the room with a shy smile and delicately placing a small bundle of letters on Harry's desk. 'Don't forget your meeting at half past nine', she added as she retreated, closing the door behind her with a final 'thank you, Mr. Potter.'

Rolling his eyes, Harry reached for his post; three letters of complaint from Josephine Japper, who was most offended that Harry had not personally come to investigate who had bewitched her cat and why; a memo from Kingsley Shacklebot about the new filing system he was implementing; and a black envelope, with his name written on the front in silver. As he touched it, his scar began to burn more fiercely and Harry felt a lurch of fear in his stomach. He placed the letter gingerly on the desk and slowly backed away to the wall.

'Theca Directus', he whispered, pointing his wand at the envelope and bracing himself.

Very slowly, a snake made of thick smoke rose from the envelope and began to hiss:

Fool boy. The pain you feel is my pain and you shall suffer indeed for all you have done. Everyone you love will be destroyed. I am merciless in my revenge.

It ends soon.

It was so long since Harry had heard Parseltongue, and yet he understood every word. The voice that spoke was the voice of Voldemort.