A/N: This story does NOT HAVE A BETA. And NEEDS one. Badly.

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, which I don't, I'd be able to afford Microsoft Word, which has a spell checker, instead of using WordPad.

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The black silhouette withdrew from the night as suddenly as if they had materialized from nothing. Immediately, they drew their cloak closer to their slim but muscular body. They walked at a brisk pace down Knockturn Alley, clearly not wanting to be bothered at such a late hour. But those who were still out couldn't have cared less.

The figure maintained their stride until they reached the intersection of Main Street and Sunless Lane, where they leaned against a light post. The candle within was flickering in the chilled wind, and the figure drew their wand and conjured a barrier that would block the wind without suffocating the flame. Fools, they thought, can't even cast a spell to protect the flame from the elements.
They reached into one of the pockets inside the cloak and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Djarum Blacks," the label read. They pulled one out and, making sure the brim of their hat was still pulled down enough to create a shadow that would obscure the light of the cigarette, placed it between their lips. They then drew their wand, and sprayed a small stream of blue sparks to light it. They breathed in deep and let their tongue play with the smoke for a moment before releasing it out into the fog, where within seconds it camouflaged.

Their thoughts turned to those of their mission they were out to complete. They knew the charm now, the one only known to them. The Light Side captured the traitor Severus Snape, and milked him for all the information they could. Numbers... So many numbers. How many does Voldemort have in his ranks? How many human? Dementor? How many giants, werewolves, goblins and vampires have joined him? However, not all the desired information was a statistic. Snape's last words were that of answering the question, "What is the incantation for the Dark Mark?" Since then, the Gryffindor trio and their close friends had practiced the spell ceaselessly. Who knew when it would come in handy?

Once half the cigarette was gone, the figure continued their stroll at a slightly less vigorous pace, and turned left down Sunless Lane. Then, their watch-- a Muggle style digital-- beeped four times. Four AM, they thought, I really have to get this done in the next hour, no more fooling around. The person slowed enough to be able to read the closest building number: six hundred, fifty-three. Thirteen more down the road.

When they arrived at their target, the figure let themselves blend in with the shadows against the door of the building. They leaned against the wall, and allowed themselves to slip down so they were sitting, knees tucked into their chest. They reached into their pocket, the same one with their cigarettes, and withdrew a battered photograph. In a small chickenscratch in the corner, it said "Order of the Phoenix, Third Generation".

This Order consisted of Harry, who was in the middle, as the leader. His two best mates were on his left, holding hands and flaunting engagement rings to the camera, while Ginny was on his right. Throughout the picture, yearmates could be seen, some coupled and happy, others looking lost, forlorn, and determined. Such was the case with Luna, who's father's death had served as a shock to bring her back into the sanity she lost after the death of her mother. No more tales of crumple-horned snorkacks, but rather a cool, calm, and quiet witch with nothing to lose. A dangerous weapon, no longer to be mistaken for a ditzy, eccentric girl.

On the opposite side of the photograph, but in a similar pose and situation, Draco Malfoy loomed. After being taken from Hogwarts by Snape, he had seen his mother, who had been the only person who ever showed him love, put to death by excessive exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. He had then run. He ran, and ran, and ran, until he found himself in Neville's company. Neville dosed Draco with Veritaserum and learned how Draco really had wanted to take Dumbledore up on his offer of protection. Neville brought Harry to Draco, and the two held a screaming match unparalleled before. At the end of the row, Harry and Draco found themselves hugging, somehow united through their mutual suffering.

The person folded away the photograph and replaced it in their pocket. They again drew their wand, and rose. They walked about ten feet from the building and turned about. "For Draco," they began. "For Ginny. For Ron. For all the Weasleys. For Dumbledore. For Sirius." The person began to trace a circle with their wand, making sure to encompass the entire doorway inside the circle.

"For Lily. For James. For Harry. Incendio! Morsmordre!"

As Borgin and Burkes screamed fire into the black sky, a green cloud hovered above the once well-known store for trafficking Dark goods. What would people think, when they saw the Dark Mark above it?

Luna Lovegood didn't know, or care, as she drew another cigarette, lit it, put her wand in her pocket with the photograph, and Disapparated.


-----A/N: Who noticed that the address was 666 Sunless Lane? 653+13=666. Yeah, sort of a knock off of how JK repeatedly uses certain numbers. Twelve, seven, and thirteen seem to be her favorites. She also has a thing for watches, noses, hands, and socks.

I have NO IDEA where this story is headed, but it's NOT a horcrux hunt story. It's a "after the death of Voldemort, fixing up Britain" story. Writing this chapter, I changed the character four times, from Ginny, to Tonks, to Hermione, before settling on Luna. Wherever this fic goes, it goes. It's got a mind of its own.

Romance, action, treachery, and odd things are about to happen. This is Harry Potter's Universe, after all!

A/N 2: I killed Snape early just because I don't like him. Maybe he'll come back in a flashback, memory, dream, or as a ghost. Or maybe he'll have a portrait appear somewhere.

A/N 3: You can make suggestions; I may take them. I may not. But if I do, rest assured you'll get your credit.