Author's Note:

This story is for all of you who were not quite satisfied with J.K. Rowling's version of the seventh book. I would write the fifth and sixth if I weren't too lazy, and if I thought anyone would be willing to go to the trouble of reading an entire AU version of the last three Harry Potter books. While reading this, please keep in mind that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction story. Any criticisms would be appreciated, but please don't be too harsh.

Thanks to my sister, who provided many ideas, entire sections of the storyline, who reviewed the chapter scrupulously, and who also had compiled all of the loose plotline ends in the first four books. She's essentially the co-author, aside from the fact that she's not actually penning any of the chapters – so far.

The characters and most locations (Of course, not London or anything) in this story are property of J.K. Rowling.

---

Harry blinked wearily over his parchment-laden desk. Since Dumbledore's death the previous school year, he'd made several realizations. Ironically enough, most were caused directly by the arrogant show Snape had put on the previous year while fleeing the scene of his crime, and all were geared toward killing the evil that Snape represented. The first was that, if Harry was going to beat Voldemort, he would need to learn Occlumency, as Snape had demonstrated when blocking every curse Harry had attempted to throw at him.

The second was that he'd need to study harder than he'd ever studied in school. Harry had never actually beaten someone in a duel based on skill. In his first year, it'd been his mother's love that had saved him from Quirrel. Against the basilisk, his victory had also been one of luck. His only success against a wizard had been in his fourth year, and had only been with extreme aid of his and Voldemort's wands' twin cores. Voldemort would, presumably, be able to get around this. He had, after all, kidnapped Ollivander, and could undoubtedly coerce the wandmaker into making a new, and more powerful, wand. If Harry was to beat Voldemort, he'd have to not only know more spells than he already did, but be so comfortable with them that he could attack and defend himself so easily that it was second nature. If he was to have a chance against Voldemort, he'd have to be able to countercurse subconsciously, so as to be able to think while fighting. This strategy would also, Harry hoped, help protect him against Voldemort's infamous Legilimency skills.

In order to acquire such skill, Harry knew he would have to practice almost without end. In preparation for the time after which he could practice magic legally, Harry had mailed Flourish and Blotts requesting all maner of books on a wide variety of magic. They'd responded with surprise at such a large order, and – along with sending him a list of all recommended books and a total bill – had queried why he'd requested so many books. He'd politely declined to answer, and had sent the money, along with a request that the large order of books be sent in a bag he'd had Hermione enchant with a concealed expansion charm and a weight-reducing charm, along a route that would prevent any Death Eaters from suspecting it was an order – particularly one of such magnitude - of Harry's.

Harry had planned and put into action several other plans, as well. One included mailing various shops at Knockturn Alley in order to obtain books on the Dark Arts, to enable him to foresee protections Voldemort might have put on the Horcruxes. Another included recalling as many Occlumency excercises as he could remember from his classes with Snape, and practicing them until he could no longer focus, or until he had fallen asleep. He'd written out all of his plans, and was, in the time before the owl from Flourish and Blotts arrived carrying his deceptively small package, falling into a pattern of studying and improving them, brainstorming possible horcruxes and their locations, and practicing the strangely elusive skill of Occlumency. He'd given himself no time to lament Dumbledore's death, and had locked himself in his room, away from the Dursleys, until a knock sounded from the door.

Having worked himself into a state of heightened anxiety, – which he had cultivated, thinking it would help him focus on his goals – Harry pulled out his wand, pointed it at the door, a curse on his lips, and flung it open. To his surprise, it was his Aunt Petunia, looking decidedly flustered. After registering the sight, his arm dropped to his side, and he blurted, more harshly than he'd intended, "What do you want?"

"Let me in; I need to speak with you." Her eyes roved the room behind him, pausing momentarily upon the parchment-strewn desk.

Harry stepped aside, quickly flipping the top parchment on each pile so as to conceal the contents. He pulled the chair away from the desk and across the small room apparently to face the bed and curiously watched his aunt close the door and seat herself in the chair. She had never shown the smallest compulsion to come near his room, much less have a discussion in it. She closed the door behind her. "Could you make sure we aren't heard?"

Harry balked. It was particularly out of character for her to acknowledge the existence of magic, much less ask Harry to perform some. "You know I can't do it out of school. Not until I'm seventeen, anyway."

"Then keep your voice down," she whispered, and Harry had the strangest feeling that mysteries that had been built up over previous years were about to be unraveled for him. "You told us, last year, that You-Know-Who is back, right?"

"What? Of course. Yeah. Why?"

"Dumbledore told me that you were to be kept here until your seventeenth birthday, at which time you'd be left unprotected at this house."

"Yes, but –"

"Let me finish, boy! You-Know-Who will do anything he can to get at you. He'll even kidnap us in order to get to you. Once the protection is down, he'll come after us." Despite his preparations, Harry hadn't foreseen this, but he knew it to be true once she'd said it. "How are we to be protected?" The battle within Harry was monumental. How did she expect him to help them, who had always scorned, spited, and abused him? They had, at least, lent him some protection, but unknowingly. Or had it been unknowingly? Had Petunia known? Not for the first time, Harry wondered how extensive her knowledge of the wizarding world was. Petunia must've seen or expected his reaction, because she continued, "We have not been the kindest to you, but we have offered you protection."

And he decided to level it with her. "What did Dumbledore mean, Aunt Petunia? 'Remember my last,' he said."

"Now's not the time, Harry. You are placing the rest of us in extreme danger. Are you going to give us protection?" Could he? Was there anywhere safe? They could perform a Fidelius Charm, but Harry didn't know even what the premises were for choosing a location upon which to place such a charm, much less how to perform one.

"Vernon agrees with you?" he said absentmindedly. Her reaction was curious, but Harry didn't know quite how to read it.

"Not exactly, no. I can persuade him, though, if you'd be willing to afford us the same protection that we've given you your entire life."

Even acknowledging the fact that she was obviously trying to manipulate him, something inside Harry gave way. "If I had a place, I'd let you go there."

"Don't you? Didn't Dumbledore say –"

"I don't know whether or not Grimmauld Place is safe. More importantly, though, I don't think that Vernon or Dudley can go there. It's got anti-muggle wards. You might be able to go, since you had a witch in your immediate family." She tried to conceal the sour look she made as he completed his statement.

"And the Weasleys'?"

Harry was dumbfounded. He stammered, "I– I … They … You're … W- What?"

"Can the Weasleys offer us a place to live?"

"I can find you a place. Is that all you wanted? To ask me to give you protection, after all these years of your mistreating me?"

"I wanted to tell you that You-Know-Who will expect you to leave the night of the seventeenth, so you should –"

"Leave earlier. I know. I've got that planned. Death Eaters do, too. There's been a person watching the house since school got out." Petunia's face paled. "I was planning to leave as soon as Hedwig came back."

"What about the Order of the Phoenix? Can they get us out of here?" Harry now lost the ability to speak. Not all wizards knew about the Order, and yet here, in one of the most anti-wizard homes that ever existed, sat a muggle – or perhaps a squib – who knew about it. Had Dumbledore told her of it? "As you said, there are Death Eaters outside the house."

Harry could see he wouldn't get any information out of her unless he guaranteed her protection here, on the spot. "Dobby!" he said aloud, startling his aunt. The orb-eyed elf appeared.

"Harry Potter called, sir?"

"Dobby, do you know where the Burrow is?"

"That is where the Wheezies live, Harry Potter, yes, but how does Dobby get there?"

"It's by Ottery St. Catchpole; Eleven-fifty-two, tower court. Dobby, could you go to their house and ask Mr. Weasley if he knew of anywhere three muggles could stay safely? If he offers the Burrow, mention that they are my family, and he might change his mind."

Dobby looked overjoyed to be performing a task for the person who'd freed him from his abusive masters. "Yes, Dobby will be glad to do so!" He nodded emphatically so as to emphasize the fact. Before he could disappear, however, Harry interrupted him again.

"Can you perform Side-Along Apparition with muggles?"

"Yes, Harry Potter."

"Good. Thank you very much, Dobby." The elf smiled broadly and disappeared with a loud crack. Harry looked at Petunia. "There you have it. I've done what I can to help you get out safely. Is there anything else you want of me?" She hesitated, then shook her head. There was obviously something she wanted to say, but she didn't say it yet. Why was she holding back? Did she want to be leaving the house before she said it? "Now we've got a little time to ourselves. Can I ask you a question?" She nodded, and glanced briefly out the window. Looking closer at her, Harry realized that she looked significantly paler than usual. Harry mirrored the action, and saw nothing out of the normal outside. "How did you know about the dementors guarding Azkaban, and what is your connection with Dumbledore?" Petunia paled further, and slowly began talking.

"I … Where is Dumbledore?"

Harry's stomach clenched, and pain rose in his throat. "Dumbledore's dead. He was killed last year –" He was cut off by the crack of Dobby apparating.

"Harry Potter, sir, Mister Wheezy said that 'they are already planning your escape,' and told me to keep you here."

"Would you mind taking him back a message?"

"Anything, Harry Potter!"

"Tell him that I've planned my own escape. I've got too much stuff to go with you, and any planned escape could go badly wrong. I don't trust Mundungus not to sell us out, nor do I trust that Snape couldn't anticipate whatever they've got planned and tell Voldemort about it." Dobby's small figure disappeared again. "Continue, Aunt Petunia."

"You were talking. Telling me how he was killed."

Harry felt a slight stab of anger. "You haven't answered any of my questions, Petunia. You deigned to force your way into my room, asked me to protect you, and then start questioning me. You haven't given me any information I asked for." Petunia glanced out the window, then at the door. "And you keep looking at the –"

Again, Harry was cut off by a crack, but seeing that Dobby had not returned yet, Harry found that his snowy owl, Hedwig, was rapping on the window. He sprang to open the window, fearful that a Death Eater might notice, and Hedwig flew into the room and handed him her package. "Thank you, Hedwig. I'm sorry, I don't have food for you right now. It's not safe for you to go back outside now. Get in your cage." She bit his finger hard enough to draw blood, and soared into her cage. Harry could now not afford the time to feel sorry for having restricted her freedom. He picked up the package which he knew was too light for its contents, and told Petunia, "Now leave. Get ready for Dobby to take you wherever they've planned."

She looked affronted. "That… rodent?! He's going to take us?"

Harry's hand brushed his pocket-holstered wand. "Yes. Get ready. You wanted to leave to safety, and I want some time alone before I do the same."

"What are you planning?" Petunia raised her voice, pointing at the pieces of parchment on the desk.

"Leave, Petunia!"

"Get out of my house!" She shrieked. Harry was speechless. Stuffing the papers into his enchanted bag, and throwing that into his suitcase, he started putting his plan into action. Harry Threw his invisibility cloak over himself, lifted his suitcase broom, and Hedwig's cage, and began clambering down the stairs. "I want to be able to see you as you leave! Never endanger this family again!" She screamed, and as he reached the bottom of the staircase and turned to leave the back door, she said, "You will go out the front door!"

Several things then happened at once. A cold chill swept through the house. The sound of shattering glass filled the house, accompanied by the sound of the doors being blasted in. Thankful for his anxiety-heightened reflexes, Harry called, "Kreacher! Dobby!" The two elves appeared at once. "Dobby, get the Dursleys out, and keep yourself safe. Kreacher, take me to Grimmauld Place." Dobby scurried off, deflecting curses and sending Death Eaters into the walls of the house.

Out of reflex, he sent his stag patronus soaring through the room, protecting the house from the oncoming dementors. Seeing Bellatrix, Harry cried, "Stupefy!" and followed the spell by sweeping his wand across the room and thinking, "levicorpus" Some Death Eaters hung by their feet in the air, but others merely kept running, now with a target location. "Kreacher, now!" The house elf touched his filled hand, and Harry felt himself sucked through the vacuum that was the typical sign of Apparition.

When they had arrived, he said, "Thank you, Kreacher. You just saved my life." The house elf looked startled. "Now, if you'd be so kind, could you go back and help Dobby? Make sure neither of you gets hurt. And once everyone's safe," he stared into Kreacher's begrudging eyes, "Stun the muggle, Petunia." Kreacher's face gave a small sign of joy. "Don't hurt her or anyone else – aside from the Death Eaters, if need be – just stun her. Do you understand? Oh, you don't know where it is, do you?" Without waiting for a response, Harry continued, "It's by Ottery St. Catchpole; Eleven-fifty-two, tower court."

"Yes, master." Kreacher bowed.

"Thank you, Kreacher. Now go." As the elf Disapparated, Harry collapsed to his knees. How he had known what had happened, he could only guess.