Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This is a HBP SPOILER. It is taking off where that ended. I hope you enjoy it and there will be more ASAP.

Chapter One: All Things Must Start Somewhere

The sky wasn't that bright today. It wasn't bright anywhere anymore…not even in the Muggle world. The bits of good things were overtaken with a darkness that no one could explain, no one could fight and no one who knew why it was there—not unless you asked the right people. And those "right people" were in the shops, in playgrounds, in taxis and even arriving at number four, Privet Drive at this very moment.

"What in the ruddy world are you doing here with them?" Uncle Vernon quaked at Harry. "Who are these people? Is that—wait a minute, wait a minute! I know you!" He pointed his fat finger at Ron. "You are one of those boys who drove that flying car!"

"No. Those were my brothers." Ron said nonchalantly, following Harry into the door.

"You were in on that candy thing too! The candy that made Dudley's tongue role out for yards! Why did you bring them here?" Uncle Vernon yelled again, being held back by Petunia.

"Those were my brothers again." Ron corrected with an amused smile.

"Besides," Harry said going up the stairs, "we aren't staying long." Harry started up the plush violet steps to his room. Aunt Petunia's voice came from the corner like a mouse to scared to make a peep.

"Are they—are they like you?" Her eyes looked up at him with much fear, sadness, shame and anxiety as she awaited the answer. He looked back at her and scoffed. "What do you think?" He turned on the stair and climbed the rest of the way up, leaving a small shrill sound coming from his Aunt Petunia.

Harry sat on the bed of his messy room, which now was cramped to boot. He, Ron and Hermione sat in the silence. They all had things to say and the other knew it, but Harry's mind was too filled with anything but grief and duty to say it. His heart was broken again. Not only had he lost another man that he admired and depended on, he lost his favorite place in the world to be and the one person he loved. But he couldn't think of that now. There had to be something he could say that could get them all talking. There had to be something.

"Now what?" he asked bluntly. The look of alarm that came across Hermione and Ron's faces when he said that, told him he had said the wrong thing. They had no plan. No idea of what to do or where to go now. They didn't know what was next or even if there would be a next.

"I could eat. We haven't eaten yet." Ron looked from Harry, who now had thrown a look of confusion at Ron, to Hermione, who shook her head no at him. "It was only a thought…" Ron put his head to rest on his hands. They looked back from one to the other.

"Maybe eating is a good idea. Then we can—we can strategize?" Hermione suggested. Ron straightened up in his chair and looked at Harry.

"Alright," Harry muttered. Ron cracked a small smile as they all left from the room. All things must start somewhere, Harry thought as he left the room. All things must start somewhere…

- - sc- -

"I know it's around here somewhere! You're just overlooking it," Ginny screamed through the burrow.

"Ginny be quiet! Bill is sleeping. He hasn't slept in days so quiet down!" Mrs. Weasley snapped her head into the doorway.

Everyone was on edge, with great reason. They had to be. There was wedding in a week, a funeral, a betrayal, murder, a lost this or a ruined that, the soon-to-be-daughter-in-law who was slowly losing her mind, her family who would be in soon, a daughter-in-love-but-can't-be-with-him moping around the house…not to mention a son and friends (who were like more children) on a quest to save the world from final doom.

Ginny sat down on the side of her bed. A heavy sadness feel upon her. Not over anything that was really anything in particular, but over everything. It was as if the truth of what was had finally settled with her. All of the truths that weren't seen until it was too late. The truth of how Dumbledore, one of the wisest wizards that ever lived, trusted someone who killed him; of how the people she loved could all die tomorrow; of how love was truly blind and tensions were high; of how the person she was made for could possibly have to die so the world would not be under evil control; of how for anything to be finished, it must first be started. And for it to be started there must be someone willing to take a risk, a risk that could have dire consequences.

A/N: More to come I promise.