Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own the plot, characters, spell names, places, etc. mentioned in the Harry Potter books and movies. I am writing for fun and not for profit.

Chapter 1

"That's odd."

Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice jolted Harry out of his musings. He glanced up from where he sat staring moodily at a map of Britain. His eyes were weary from deciphering the too small letters. Finally, after three years, he was used to the absence of glasses on his face, and without hesitation, he brought his hands to his eyes. Once he rubbed his eyes roughly with hands scuffed with ink, he spotted Kingsley standing at the opposite end of the office they shared facing slightly away from him. For a short while, Harry gazed silently at the man in robes of deep magenta, quickly spotting the many small signs that signified how badly ill his old partner really was. "What's wrong?" he finally asked.

Kingsley turned away from the window he was facing and made his way toward Harry's desk. Harry pretended not to notice the other man's shaking limbs and the sweat that had formed on his dark skin. Upon reaching the desk, Kingsley waved a small, wrinkled piece of parchment. "The aurors we sent to Peterhead are requesting to be sent back home."

Harry looked back down at the map, searching for the city among the mess of tiny black print. "Peterhead…controlled by that Death Eater with the big wart on his chin, right? Wilson?"

Kingsley shook his head. "Not anymore. Wilson's dead. Peterhead is ours."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry leaned back in his chair, impressed. "That was fast. I gave them their orders only last night."

Kingsley sighed and plopped down onto the chair opposite the desk. "Wilson was already dead when Rees found him. His subordinates are also dead. I presume the dementors had already headed back to Voldemort when Wilson could no longer give any more orders." He raised a hand and absently rubbed a shoulder, grimacing as he did so. "I don't understand. That's the fifth high-ranking Death Eater killed this month. Granted, they all controlled only small cities, but something like this happening without our knowledge…" Kingsley trailed off, looking at Harry curiously.

Harry scowled in response. "What? Do you think I did it? I snuck off in the middle of the night and killed those Death Eaters?"

Kingsley grinned, showing off bright white teeth. "I wouldn't be surprised. It's been a while since you've gone on a mission, and I know you're getting restless."

"I am restless. I'm tired of sitting in this room and telling everyone to run off risking their lives while I sit here and do nothing." Harry rested his feet on his desk and leaned further back in his chair, balancing it on two legs. "But it wasn't me. Of course it couldn't be me. Instead of doing something useful, I'm stuck on this wild goose chase, searching for these bloody horcruxes." He glanced disgustedly at the tall piles of maps, books, and parchment scrolls placed haphazardly about the room.

"What you're doing is important, and you know it," Kingsley replied sternly. Looking at Harry more closely, he noticed that the young man looked more than a little bit frazzled. The normally bright green eyes were dull and half-closed. Despite being off the field in only a few weeks, his skin had lost the healthy tan that everyone was used to. His jet-black hair stuck up straight in every direction, giving him the look of a mad professor. Kingsley smiled and his eyes softened. "The sooner you find something, the sooner you can head out and destroy another horcrux, and we'll be one step closer in defeating Voldemort. But you know," Kingsley's smile grew more earnest. "Everyone is more comfortable with you here, where they can see you. You're their hero, and when they can't see you every day, they get uneasy. It's hard enough reassuring the muggles with you here. Once you leave, they will be unbearable. You know wizards were the ones who forced them from their homes. They don't trust us here. They only trust you."

"I haven't trained all these years just to stay here and comfort these people, Kingsley." Harry snapped open his eyes to glare at the other man, vibrant green to deep brown. "My job is to be out there, fighting Death Eaters and bringing more people here, where it's safe."

It was Kingsley's turn to raise an eyebrow. "So you'd rather thrust your research back into Hermione's hands and run back into the thick of things?"

Harry flushed and looked away. He hated when Kingsley managed to make him feel like a child getting scolded. "No," he mumbled.

Kingsley chuckled. "Just give her a few more weeks. I heard this was one of her more difficult births. Once she's fit to return to work, I'm sure your team will be glad to have their leader back."

Harry gave a self-deprecating smile. "I know." He looked up past Kingsley and gazed wistfully through the window on the opposite wall. "I owe it to them," he said softly. "I brought Voldemort back into our world, so it's my duty to protect them from him."

With a grunt, Kingsley stood up. He placed a heavy hand upon Harry's head. "You're not alone, son. Voldemort may have the upper hand now, but we're steadily gaining ground. Remind me to show you the new wing we've added in the east side." After ruffling his hair, Kingsley turned and headed toward the exit.

Harry nodded, eyes already falling back to the map. "Remember to rest, Kingsley."

"Ah," Kingsley paused by the door. "What about the mysterious deaths? Do you think we should look into them?"

Harry pursed his lips, thinking. "Whoever's killing them isn't harming us. As long as that person stays out of our way, I don't think we should spare anyone to investigate the matter. We're stretched too thin already."

Kingsley gave Harry one last smile before opening the door and stepping through. "Wise choice, oh, great leader," Harry heard him say before the door was shut.

Smiling, Harry cracked his knuckles and got back to work.

O_O

A team of four aurors lounged contentedly in the middle of a deserted street in downtown Peterhead. Besides them, there seemed to be no sign of life in the city. Abandoned cars, emptied buildings, and scattered garbage surrounded the wizards. The absence of birdcalls, voices, and movement made the air thick with silence. Despite the eeriness of the place, the sky was clear and the wind breezed pleasantly among the aurors.

The youngest and least experienced of the aurors leaned his back against a white sedan, tapping his wand against the wheel to a rhythm only he could understand. "It's kinda nice here," he commented, looking around him. He was young, barely an adult, but he did not feel intimidated in this group of men who were old enough to be his father. He smiled around at his team. "Don't you agree?"

"It's fucking creepy here," a gruff voice answered. The voice belonged to a great brute of a man with a mess of curly, auburn hair. "Once Boss gives the go ahead, we'll use the portkey immediately to return home."

"That doesn't make any sense, James. You find a deserted city creepy, and yet you fight Death Eaters and dementors everyday." the young man said, picking up and throwing an empty soda can at James' head.

"Shut it, Dave," a lean, lanky man sighed. This auror had a band of gray wrapped around his right upper arm, signifying him as the squad's leader. "If you want, I'll be happy to leave you here."

Dave sat up and shook his head, as well as both of his hands. "No need, Rees." He grinned cheekily. "There's someone I'm looking forward to see again back home. She's a muggle. Before I left, she told me that she will teach me how to play football. You see, football's a sport like…"

"Nobody gives a shit, boy." James interrupted in his customary growl. "There still might be enemies lurking about here. We don't need your big gob alerting them. Erik!" he called loudly to the man standing a slight distance apart from them, despite what he had just said. "Any signs of humans?"

The small, dark man shook his head in reply, never keeping his gaze at one place for too long. Even the slightest movement made by a living creature would not go unnoticed under his keen eyes.

Rees shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly disturbed about something. "What do you guys think about Wilson?"

"It looked like he died while sleeping. No blood, no signs of any struggle in bed," commented Dave.

"Avada kedavra, you think?" James questioned.

"No," Erik entered the conversation. "I couldn't detect that particular spell's residue. Wilson was recently killed, so I should've been able to sense it if it had been used. He was killed another way." He lifted a hand and pointed to the sky. "Falcon coming."

The group waited in silence, staring up at the bird gliding toward them. Once they could see its outspread wings, the bird narrowed itself and dived to the ground. Just when they thought it would crash fatally on the cement, it managed to pull itself into a graceful landing. The falcon gazed up at Rees and held out its leg.

Chuckling, Rees bent to untie the piece of parchment. "He sent his own falcon. We should feel honored, boys." He ignored James' snort and Dave's cooing at the bird and read the short message. "Alright. They've given us the all clear. The portkey can now be activated." The auror smiled at each of his teammate. "Two hundred and thirty six people. Just a few hours ago, we evacuated two hundred and thirty six people. They're probably just settling in now, huh?"

James grunted. "Just what the hell will we do when there's no more space?"

Erik frowned. "Once they create a strong enough ward, we'd be able to move back aboveground. We've got plenty of abandoned cities to choose from."

Dave laughed. "Oh, that would be grand. To live right beneath the sky again...I'd be the first to volunteer to live up here. That lucky Harry Potter living way up high in his tower…"

For a few moments, the aurors gazed up at the sky together. "Enough," Rees finally said. "Let's go home."

O_O

"It's about bloody time they left," Blaise Zabini growled under his breath. Currently, he crouched upon the roof of a high building, staring at the spot where the four aurors had disappeared. Due to his disillusionment charm, he had been invisible even to that impressive falcon.

Sighing gratefully, Blaise stood up and stretched. He had kept watch on the aurors for almost three hours straight, not moving a muscle in case he alerted one of them. Several times, the breeze threatened to blow him off the wall and down to a messy death below. Blaise couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the aurors' expressions if he were to suddenly fall smack onto the ground near them.

Stepping down from the wall and onto the roof floor, Blaise ended the disillusionment charm. Before he could take another step toward the door leading into the building, the door opened and Draco Malfoy, his closest childhood friend since his third year of Hogwarts, poked his head through. Seeing Blaise, Draco gave a cheerful smile. "Oh, good," he said. "I can see you. Does that mean they left?"

Blaise nodded and walked the last few steps until he stood only a few feet from the slender, silver-blond haired man. "Just a few minutes ago."

"Perfect." Draco held the door open, gesturing grandly for Blaise to pass through. Blaise rolled his eyes, but crossed the door without further comment. He proceeded to climb down the flight of steps with Draco following close behind. "Greg actually managed to contact me a little while ago. According to him, our last target might be attending a gala next Saturday night."

Blaise frowned thoughtfully. "A gala? Don't tell me you're saying that's our opportunity to kill him?"

Draco shrugged, even though he knew Blaise couldn't see him. "Why not? It'll be different."

"At a gala…" Blaise repeated.

"Offing Wilson was child's play. Our next target should be more challenging." Draco continued.

"…where there will be plenty of witnesses…"

"I mean, really. His wards were pathetic. His subordinates were second-rate."

"…and innocents?"

"We'll have a bloody great time with this one, Blaise."

Blaise slowed down, allowing Draco to move past him. He stared at the back of the blond head in silence. The bright locks seemed to glow in the dimness, but Blaise wasn't interested in his friend's most prized feature. He wondered what went on in Draco's head. He wondered what his old friend felt, thought, liked, and feared. He had made it a personal mission to understand this unreachable person when he first made the choice to abandon his own aspirations to follow the silver-eyed boy almost ten years ago. They had been through much, and yet, he was no closer to solving the mystery behind those eternally shuttered eyes. Shaking his head slowly in fond exasperation, Blaise said, "You're going to get us all killed one day, Draco."

Draco waved a hand carelessly. "We survived this long, haven't we? I'm sure we have a few good years left in us." He glanced slyly over his shoulder. "Don't think I've forgotten your birthday tomorrow. Forgive me, but I don't think I can find twenty seven candles in such a short time."

Blaise grinned. "No need. Greg might think they are candies and eat them again."

"Shame." Draco stuffed both his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. "I was looking forward to a real birthday celebration." He shrugged. "Ah well. I can try conjuring some, I guess. Congratulations on another year of cheating death, my friend. Let's hope it won't be till a while yet until we perish from this dangerous lifestyle of ours."

"Well," Blaise placed a hand on Draco's slightly bony shoulder. "Until then, I've got your back as always, Draco."

O_O

AN: The original characters in this chapter won't be coming back. I just needed them to set the scene.