Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am just passing time with my own imagination until the real thing comes out. Sorry if this seems a little OOC.

This is my year seven fanfic about the hunt for the Horcruxes. I do not belive that this is what will happen, I am just entertaining the notion. (I wrote up to chapter 5 before DH came out)

This is my first real Harry Potter fic (I did a poem, and a Naruto fic, but this is harder), so review nicely. Please and thanks.

Chapter 1

Sleeping Street

The outside world was darkened at eleven O'clock and the pure blackness that descended on Privet Drive was only penetrated by the occasional streetlamp. There were no children outside playing, no cars driving, and no people walking. It was almost as if Privet Drive had taken an extended nap. The only sound was the dull hum of automobiles from the highway. The sky was starless, and the premature moon threatened to stop hiding behind the stormy clouds. Even though it was July, a thick cloud of fog hung low in the air.

A young man stared out of a second-story window at the lifeless street. If looked at, one would be lead to believe that Harry Potter was a ghost. The pale light from the streetlamps whitened his already pale complexion. Harry was a very skinny boy, but he had always been that way. With the help of Quidditch and regular meals however, that had changed. His face, despite only being 16, was serious and scarred with cuts from adventures of happier days. The only thing that made Harry look any different from other people at school was the thin lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead that he had come to dislike.

Harry's thoughts kept wandering toward the events of last week. Dumbledore's funeral had been then, and sometimes the shock that he would never see his mentor again still made him want to vomit. Ginny had been there too. Even as Harry told her that he could not be with her anymore, she had remained loyal. Maybe when it was all over, they could finally have a chance at an actual date without looking over their shoulders.

A snore came from the middle of the room from Harry's best friend. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were knocked out on sleeping bags on his bedroom floor. Looking around the room, Harry noted the numerous piles of books on the floor, and Hermione's head was resting on an open page of a particularly thick one. They were tracing family trees to find out where some of the Horcruxes might have gone. Originally, Hermione's idea, she took a trip to Diagon Alley and bought every book she could find on wizarding family trees in England. The research was a long and grueling process that had turned up very few results. Harry thought it was a lost cause, but Hermione was still determined to find some shred of evidence that might lead them to a Horcrux.

They had stayed up all night because Ron had found another descendant of Hepzibah Smith named Gregory Smith and Hermione swore that this was a huge breakthrough. Even though they had what Harry felt was every book ever published on wizarding genealogy, it was still very hard to find names. You had to start from the bottom with Hepzibah and her late husband (Arnold Smith) and try to work your way up to remote family members. Ron thought that Hepzibah might have had a child, and he had proved right. Hermione had now taken up the task of finding younger descendants while Ron checked for other relatives. Harry was assigned the hardest task of all.

Researching how to destroy Horcruxes was far mor difficult than tracing lineages because no one wanted to be known for publishing a book on Dark Magic. Harry had to go into Deadly and Dangerous, a dark magic book store in Knockturn Alley. When the hag behind the counter heard he wanted all the books they had on Horcruxes, she shushed him and shoved at least ten books into his arms. Harry had only gotten through three of them when he decided to mark his page in Dark Magic of the Dark Ages to take a break.

Hermione had begun to stir. Even though Harry had been living with her for a little over a month, he just now noticed that her hair had gotten even bushier, if that was even possible. Harry's other friend, Ron, had changed too. Ron had shot up to a little over six feet tall. His nose had lengthened a little so that he faintly resembled Dumbledore.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren't pleased when they found out that two more "freaks" were to be staying under their roof (Uncle Vernon's vein in his temple started dangerously throbbing). As a precaution, Ron and Hermione stood next to him in case Uncle Vernon tried to attack Harry (the vein was dangerously protruding). Perhaps it was because there were two armed wizards looking at the Dursleys as if they would like nothing more than to curse them, but they reluctantly allowed them to stay (the vein was in serious danger of bursting). Harry always went down to the kitchen to pick up meals for the three of them, for fear what the Dursleys would do to Ron or Hermione if they went down there. Dudley had taken to avoiding them at all costs, which was not new to Harry, as he was keen on interacting with Dudley as little as possible.

Hermione stretched and came to join Harry at the window.

"How is the Horcrux hunt coming?" she asked sleepily.

"It's not. They only tell you how to make Horcruxes, not how to get rid of them! They show you the worst pictures with the ugliest descriptions on how you make them, and they even offer tips! It's disgusting!" Harry spat.

"The search for the younger generation is practically pointless," said Hermione going over to her area of floor and pulling out a long roll of parchment. She beckoned him to come over.

She unrolled the long parchment. Harry saw numerous names connected by tiny lines. There were some names with a line that lead to nothing. Harry assumed that they meant that Hermione had not found the spouse, or that their name wasn't important. At the very top was Helga Hufflepuff.

"Gregory Smith married a muggle-born witch named Melissa Anderson. Her side is pointless to research because her parents died in 1968, and why would You-Know-Who give a Horcrux to muggles? What is really sad is that Melissa died in 1981 and she was murdered a week before Voldemort's downfall. I know she had one kid, but id doesn't say who because the Ministry keeps a tight lock on the whereabouts and names of underage wizards," Hermione finished smartly.

"How did Melissa die?" Harry asked, looking at the family tree.

Hermione shifted around a minute before finally saying, "She was brutally murdered in an attack on Gringotts."

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "Why was she at Gringotts?" he asked.

"She was an Auror and got called to the scene. According to this Daily Prophet article, she had a child, but it still doesn't give a name," Hermione said promptly.

Ron gave a snort from the other side of the room and rolled over, muttering something about the Chudley Cannons. Hermione continued on.

"I've been combing old Prophets to find some sign of a Smith child's name, but there hasn't been a single name mentioned. Just Gregory. No one else."

Harry turned away and looked out the window at the sleeping street. It was raining. The heavy droplets began to hammer against the window loudly.

"What are you two doing?" said a sleepy voice. Ron had awoken.

"I was showing Harry the Smith family tree. Here, look," Hermione said, shoving the tree at Ron and explaining the history and that Ron's discovery was actually very helpful, but the search was fruitless.

Harry crawled into bed with Dark Magic of the Dark Ages, but didn't read it. Instead, he discreetly pulled out the photo album of his parents.

Harry had begun to put more pictures in the album at the start of the summer. Most of the new ones were of Sirius and Dumbledore, but there was one of the three of them. It was their first year and right after they had gone through the trap door. They were all slightly bruised and bandaged, but looking pleased, nonetheless.

The mini trio waved up at him, and then went back to talking. Harry smiled, something that hadn't happened in weeks.

Harry's alarm clock read that it was midnight. It was his birthday! Ron and Hermione looked up at his sudden movement and saw the clock.

"Congratulations Harry!" squealed Hermione, leaning over the bed to hug him.

"Yeah mate, now you can do magic!" said Ron, clapping Harry on the back.

"I think I'll celebrate by sleeping," replied Harry, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm staying up," said Ron, motioning to a pile of books near his mat.

"I'll help with that," said Hermione

"See you in the morning," Harry whispered

Silence filled Harry's ears as he drifted off to sleep, but he couldn't help but think about Melissa Anderson. What was really eating away at Harry was the fact that she died a week before his own parents met their premature deaths. How powerful had Voldemort been then?

Still Harry thought, If she had any kids, we would have alot in common.