Hello! This is the first chapter of "The Weapon the Dark Lord Has Not" called "The Skies." I truly hope you enjoy this chapter; it is the longest so far because it introduces you to the main characters. Review!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

How does it feel, Potter? I made a complete fool out of you and now your dear godfather is dead. Your stupidity caused those around you pain and death. I used you, and although my plan indeed failed, I did not leave you unscathed. Dumbledore is the reason you're alive. You can't handle me. You won't win. Surrender, and you can serve me better than anyone else. You won't be alone. There are those closest to you that have been mine before and will be again.

In a foggy, sleepy suburb of Surrey, the boy named Harry Potter kneeled sick over a bucket by his bed. His aunt, uncle, and cousin sound asleep, Harry had suffered another nighttime encounter with Voldemort. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and walked over to the bathroom to pour out the contents of his bucket and wash his mouth. Looking back at him from the mirror over the sink was a pale, thin fifteen year-old whose bright green eyes had seen too much. How am I going to do this? A voice inside Harry was filled with doubt. Just a month ago, he learned that it was he who would have to kill Lord Voldemort or die himself. The only hope he had was "the power the Dark Lord has not." Love? Is that enough?

Far away, in the outskirts of the town of Ottery St. Catchpole, Ron Weasley sat on the Burrow's roof staring at orange clouds, shaking with anger from the row he had with his brother, Percy. Ron was the youngest of the Weasley boys, and he had always had to accept hand-me-downs, remain silent, and wait when any one of his siblings needed his parents' attention first. He was the sixth of seven, and he had tried to knock some sense into the third. The truth was that even though Ron could sometimes murder Percy, he still was his brother. Percy knew after what happened in the Department of Mysteries that Harry had been right about Voldemort's return all along, so why had he not returned home? Ron even decided to not harass Percy about the letter he sent to Hogwarts telling him to forget Harry.

Ron was tired of seeing his mother, Molly, cry alone at night in the kitchen. He felt like his family was breaking apart. Ginny spent most of her days helping her mother like an angel and running out at night (it's none of your goddamn business, Ron, go tell mum since you don't have a life and I do). Fred and George were immersed in the business of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes at Diagon Alley, and usually were seen saying good-bye in the morning. Bill was working long hours in Gringotts and Charlie was away in Romania, too busy from recruiting foreign wizards for the Order to even write a letter. Arthur, Ron's dad, was doubly loaded with Ministry work, and Cornelius Fudge kept taking his time to schmooze up to him. No one wanted to talk about Percy, or to each other. A week into the summer holiday, Ron felt it was time he got a job.

In West London, sitting on the bench of her bedroom window, Hermione Granger wrote, stone faced, in her diary. This small book knew her more than she probably knew herself. Gerald Granger's laughter resounded through their large apartment, along with the laughter of his wife, Kimberly, and the shattering of another living room lamp. Hermione's parents were the best and most benevolent dentists in West London, serving people of every walk of life, even if they couldn't pay. They were very responsible, especially with their daughter; everything she needed they would work to provide, accepting her as a witch even if they didn't understand, and supporting her education at Hogwarts. However, it was Saturday night, and from all their hard work and sacrifice, they deserved a night to allow themselves to be enraptured by the reverie caused by the bottle and the smoldering ashes that lay on their coffee table. As Hermione sat by her window looking at the rain fall, smelling the sweet aroma rising from the living room window downstairs, she thought that it was too late for anyone to laugh that hard.

Hermione thought of her past year as she closed her diary. She could have died in the Department of Mysteries. Ron and Harry could have too. They had been through so much together before. A stream of guilt and sadness flowed through her body. Ron and Harry knew very little about Hermione; her parents knew very little about them. Two worlds, completely separate from each other, she lived in both. Every summer, she traveled to foreign countries with Gerald and Kimberly, displayed as a trophy to their business partners, protected, killed for and used to endear customers to her parents. She had had enough of the concrete that surrounded her, cold and unyielding, and she was tired of the feeling she had every time she passed apartment 726. Two doors from her own apartment, this one had been empty since she could remember, and a cold draft blew from the bottom of the door. Hermione never could explain the anxiety she felt every time she passed by.

Two pale, thin feet dangled from the railing of a balcony outside a majestic bedroom draped with silk tapestries in vibrant colors of red, blue, and green embroidered with gold. The rest of the Wiltshire mansion was an abyss of blue, white, ivory, and pale green. Draco Malfoy's room stood out like Rudolph's nose. Two cold, blue-gray eyes gleamed in the moonlight, staring distant. His mother, Narcissa was sound asleep; Lucius' usual symphony of snores were absent. Draco thought of it before, jumping. Things would be so much easier for his parents if he weren't around. He wouldn't have to live through being appraised by Voldemort every time he was forced to break bread with him. Draco was an artist. He decorated his own room and was slowly painting a mural in it; no one in the house could understand what it meant. He had a beautiful voice, to boot. He also happened to be one of the best students in his Hogwarts House, Slytherin. Indeed he was the pride of his parents, and they displayed him to all of their friends. Voldemort wanted him in his league; he obsessed over Draco, and tried relentlessly to persuade him.

Draco didn't know what he wanted. In fact, he couldn't even tell who his real friends were anymore. His friends, Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, Zabini, and Parkinson, shared a feeling of uncertainty about Draco. They sometimes spontaneously asked him where he stood on the subject of Mudbloods as if they weren't sure he loathed the miscreants. He had snuck out into the Muggle world and found things that he really liked however, like sneakers (very comfortable), and walkmans (Muggle music was great, and the headphones blocked out anything annoying with music). He felt extreme guilt because of this, plus confusion over what was right. Sometimes he felt as if though Muggles were not so bad, and they didn't deserved to be harmed. Sometimes, it was not so fun for him to humiliate those who were not pure-blood and rich like him.

As the thin, pale feet stepped back into the balcony, cold, blue-gray eyes met round, green eyes.

Draco fell into the balcony with shock. "W-Whyy-do-you-always do that?"

"I am sorry sir. I is wanting to see how my Dragon is doing, if he needs anything or is feeling sad."

"I'm ok, how are you?"

"Don't change the subject! It's too late for my Dragon to be awake"

"You don't get off my back!"

"And I won't because I know my Dragon and what he really feels inside. I've known from the day you were born you were not like your father, scared, and that means that you will take a great risk someday to follow you heart; beware the bad man with red eyes!"

The fights at Number Four, Privet Drive were getting worse by the day. Door slamming was constant, and there was at least one scuffle in the backyard daily between Dudley and Harry. Harry was getting a lot better at fighting, mostly because he was afraid he would soon die from Dudley's massive blows. Even Vernon Dursley began to notice the viciousness of his son and quietly scolded him when he thought Harry wasn't looking. Petunia Dursley blamed Harry for provoking him, but now made Dudley share house chores with him, mostly to stop him from complaining to his friends. But Harry had not finished repaying Dudley for all his cuts and bruises.

It was a bright, sunny day when Harry had to clean the Dursleys' tiny attic. After an hour of scrubbing, Harry crawled toward a small, old chest that he found hidden in a corner behind every other box. He opened it and saw a photo album. In the album he saw pictures of his eight year-old mother, Lily Evans, smiling, with her older sister, ten year-old Petunia. Lily's auburn hair contrasted with Petunia's dark brown. Harry could not believe his eyes. Here were two sisters that he had never met before--hugging each other and having fun together. Harry's aunt, as far as he could remember, had always had very nasty things to say about his mother. But in these photographs, they looked as though they truly loved each other. Harry thought that soon the time would come when he would confront his aunt and uncle directly on what the issue was with his parents, and they would have to answer his questions on good terms or bad.

"HARRY POTTER! How-w-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Dark brown hair and bony hands peeked through the attic door.

Harry suddenly felt the time had come, whether anyone was ready or not.

"WHAT are you doing? I ask you to do the simple task of cleaning and you look through things that don't belong to you. Get out. GET OUT! Petunia Dursley climbed the attic ladder, shaking with fury, although a hint of panic seemed to emerge in her eyes.

"No." Harry wanted answers.

"Don't you-" Petunia entered the attic and Harry passed her, blocking the exit.

"Give me attitude, boy! Yeah, yeah. I'm sick of hearing that. Can you tell me what the meaning of this is? How thick can you be? Sending me to clean up here and not expecting me to find these pictures."

"Where in the hell do you get off calling me-" Petunia was changing colors.

"Thick. You've never been truthful with me about my parents-all these years-and you didn't think I was going to find out. You know more about MAGIC than you let on, and you probably knew I was a WIZARD and that one day I would go to HOGWARTS. You never told me. You lied to me."

H-Harry, you don't understand- She was shaken by the forbidden words.

"I don't? Then enlighten me. What was so awful about my parents, because the only thing I know is that you are a liar. So who's decent, Petunia?" Harry let his emotions roll.

"I tried to raise you and protect you-"

"Liar."

"I didn't treat you as well as my son, but you were disciplined and safe all the same."

"Safe from what? Hunger and daily beatings from your criminal of a son?"

"DON'T YOU-"

"Dudley! You should go out and really see what he's doing on the street! Tea my arse!"

"I think I will go see!" Petunia tried to leave, but Harry didn't budge from the door.

"Ok good. Now back to my parents. What was wrong with my mother, what did she ever do to you?"

"Harry-"

"And my father. Did you even know him?"

"She was selfish, selfish! She never cared about me or our parents. She was nothing but trouble, and they adored her. Then she met James, that arrogant git. They looked for trouble, wherever they went. They asked for death. I was stuck with you. My mum and dad died from the sadness of her death. They didn't care that I was there for them. They couldn't stop crying and they got sick. I was never good enough!" Petunia's eyes began to water, and she became pale and shaky.

Harry knew better than to argue about the arrogant part, he had seen his father in Snape's Pensieve, but he still had no sympathy for his aunt. He could argue that his parents were dealing with things she couldn't understand, but he realized it was useless to fight.

"That's all very interesting, but you still didn't answer my question. Don't bother, I can see that the problem here is really only yours and that's jealousy. I'm sorry but I can't help you there. I don't understand what happened between you and my mother, and I see that you will never truly tell me. There was a time when you both loved each other. I'm sorry my existence has been such a burden for you. I've never meant to hurt you but you will never see that, and I will never understand why you hate me. I appreciate that you have me here; Dumbledore says that it is for my safety. When this whole war is over, I will go far away where I won't bother you anymore."

Harry walked down the attic stairs leaving a slack-jawed, pale, watery-eyed, Petunia Dursley.

It was only a week at the Dursleys', and Harry had half a mind to grab his still-packed trunk and leave without apology. He laid his wet, shampoo-smelling head on his pillow at nine, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom when Hedwig flew into the bedroom, landed on his chest, and started to peck at his face.

"Ok, OK! Whaddya want, girl? What's wrong?"

Two more owls flew into the room: Errol and Pigwidgeon. They all carried letters. Harry opened the letters Hedwig carried first.

Hey Harry!

I just wanted to check up on you and know if everything's alright. I just finished our Potions research for the summer. Ron says I'm sick but I like to get things out of the way unlike some people. I did it on the Living Death infusion of Wormwood and Asphodel and the mythology based on it. Have you thought about what you're going to do? I'll definitely help; I know the Muggles won't let you do anything and you can't really go anywhere. Harry, I know that things are difficult right now and that your aunt and uncle are unbearable, but please believe that we will see each other really soon and that for now you have to stay put for your safety. Please remember we're here for you too. My parents have to make a quick run to Hong Kong but I should be back in about two weeks. Ron still hasn't been able to talk sense into Percy; he's really upset about it. We're all really worried about him. I know he's been a stupid git, but he's still Ron's brother. Harry, please try to empty your mind at night before you sleep and prepare yourself for Occlumency. Dumbledore wants to teach you as soon as possible in order to prevent Voldemort from hurting you anymore. Please stay in touch. Hedwig's brilliant. She stalks me. You can't see her until she's right next to you, which means that she's learned how to not be seen. I'll write you when I return.

Love From

Hermione

Harry raised an eyebrow and set down Hermione's letter on his night table. He picked up the next letter, which was very familiar because it had the Hogwarts crest on it.

Dear Harry,

I hope you are well. As your friends may have told you already and as I have also told you I will be teaching you Occlumency very soon before the start of term. The date is still tentative, but please prepare for the coming lessons. It is imperative that you empty your mind before you sleep each night Harry. Try your best every time and you will see improvement. The past is done, keep only the lessons; do not go back to it. Remember that worrying about the future will not prevent it or improve it. Remain in the present, it does you the most good.

Harry, I learned a hard lesson last year about keeping the truth from you. It did you more harm than good. I am most aggrieved by this and will do what I can to make it up to you. However, I must address that I know that you have kept secrets from me, about your scar hurting, and your dreams. Harry, these are real experiences and there is no reason to feel you should ignore them. You need to tell me as soon as possible. None of us in the Order, your friends, and your professors can help you unless you reach out to us. We all care very deeply about you, especially Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Do not let anger or sorrow separate you from them.

Harry, I will soon write telling you who will take you to Order Headquarters and when. Hedwig has learned to fly with stealth. Be positive and write me if you have concerns. We will soon meet.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry placed Dumbledore's letter on the night table and took the last letter from Hedwig. The untidy scrawl on the envelope told him instantly who wrote it.

How are you, Harry?

I saw Hedwig and she was pecking me to write you a letter. Smart bird, we got. I've been in a right state and I know you've been, with what's been happening lately. I'm a hot mess, trying to talk to the giants, they don't want to hear me. I know it's hard living with your aunt and uncle, but you'll be out soon, you can be sure of that. Take care and keep in touch with Ron and Hermione, they've always been there for you.

See you soon,

Hagrid

Harry smiled as he put down Hagrid's letter. Hagrid was always brief but said volumes in few words. Errol and Pig's letters were the rest to be read. There were far too many Weasleys for one owl.

Dear Harry,

I truly hope all is well with your aunt and uncle and that you are treated at least fairly well. Here at the Burrow we are all very busy with work as Ron may tell you. All of our sons are busy working for the Order in some way or another, even Fred and George. Ginny been so helpful here at home and we are all thinking of you. Please do not hesitate in letting us know if you need anything. Included are some treats for you I know you like.

Harry reached for the package and found four mince pies and a chocolate cake. He smiled and thanked Molly mentally for being a life-saver.

Harry, I hope you are well. Molly and I are always checking up on you. Remember, Mrs. Figg is there. Don't hesitate to let us know if anything's wrong at all. We will meet very soon. It is important that you try to clear your mind as best you can every night before you go to sleep. I am more busy than ever here at the Ministry, but I think Fudge is beginning to accept certain inalienable truths even if he doesn't like it. We're all very well here at home.

Take Care,

Molly and Arthur

Harry always felt loved by Molly and Arthur. They considered him one of their sons.

Hey Mate!

Haya doin'? We're alright. Business is great and we've just finished perfecting the nosebleed nougats. We were wondering if you wanted to try them on your cousin. Those Ton-Tongue Toffees are a hit with customers. Ron comes in and helps three times a week. We haven't heard from Percy, the stupid git. Ginny's hiding something and we're going to figure it out. You're out of the house real soon, so be happy.

We heard that Professor Flitwick kept a piece of our swamp; we're deeply touched. We feel so much better now that we're finally free to be ourselves. We would have given anything to be there when Peeves chased Umbridge out of Hogwarts with McGonagall's walking stick. But you stay put. It looks weird coming from us but we have to be all mature and responsible sometimes. Don't let the Dursleys get you down. Write if you need anything, especially advice.

Keep up the mischief, don't get caught

Fred and George

It just hit Harry how many letters he received. All these people were attending to his well-being. He felt shame at feeling so sorry for himself the past few days.

Harry,

How are you coping lately? I know things are very difficult and that no one can truly understand what you are going through with the responsibility you have on your shoulders and the pain of losing Sirius. The only thing I can say is that I know you will heal with time because I know you're incredibly strong and that you will not be alone in this process. Now Harry, I know your relatives are ridiculous, but please don't run out. You're going to be with us unbelievably soon. And please try as much as you can to empty your mind every night before you go to sleep. We're all ok here. Hermione's away in China and Ron's miserable. I'm sorry, but he's so obvious, don't you agree? In other news, we've still to hear from Percy. I don't care; he was never there for me, but I'm worried about mum. Ron tried to talk to him. You know, Ron's been there for all of us at some point or other. Anyway, please write if something's up. Don't keep it to yourself.

Hugs,

Ginny

Harry laughed as he put down Ginny's letter. He had realized that Ron had feelings for Hermione in their fourth year when he kept harassing her about Viktor Krum. Ginny was always very direct when she spoke about things.

Hey Harry!

Hold on! You be out of that house soon enough.. How are you surviving? Guess what, I've been practicing on my agility on the broom and Charlie said he was going to help me when he comes in August. Harry, I know this is not like me, but I decided to talk to my stupid brother Percy. I did it for mum. She hasn't been the same. And I don't see why he's still out, I mean, he knows the truth now, about you. It's strange. When I went to find him (don't tell mum) he just said he was sorry and walked away. I don't hate him, Harry. And now's not a good time for him to be out by himself.

If that wasn't enough, mum and dad don't talk to each other the same, Fred and George don't talk about anything not involving their shop, and Ginny's been escaping at night Merlin-knows-where. Hermione's in China. That girl travels everywhere, and she's not even excited. Sometimes I think her mum and dad force her to go. Anyway, hold on and please try to empty your mind before you sleep every night for Occlumency. Dumbledore's going to teach you now, not the greasy git, as you probably now know. Stay sane and remember we're here so write if you need anything, don't keep it shut.

See you soon,

Ron

So far all the people in the pile of letters had told him to clear his mind, and there was still Lupin's.

Dear Harry,

How are you these days? We've all been thinking about you. I was at Headquarters the other day, remembering Sirius in the old days while looking at old photos. Harry, I want to let you know I'm here, we all are. Your parents and Sirius were my best friends, and I promised them I would be there for you if anything happened to them. Do not blame yourself for anything that happened. I was scared Sirius might run out too. Please empty your mind before you sleep every night without ceasing. Dumbledore's going to teach you Occlumency and not Snape. Snape would have been an excellent teacher had he been able to forget his differences with James and not take them out on you.

Write to me if you ever need anything or have a question. I know the Muggles treat you unfairly, but please do not run away as you will be out of the Dursley's house very soon.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

Two things were certain: Harry had to empty his mind every night before he went to bed, and he was leaving Privet Drive very soon. This was the most letters he has ever received in his life in one night. Although he was tired of hearing the same thing umpteen times, Harry didn't feel so alone anymore.

In Ibiza, Spain, Mariana De Las Casas waited tables for Club Creations. Just something to hold me up, she thought as an intoxicated young-at-heart dropped Hypnotik on her. Mariana was sixteen and very fair, with thick, wavy, dark raven hair and piercing, vibrant violet eyes. She never knew her real parents because they had died in a fire. She was cared for by the entire community, but she lived with Angelica Vasquez, an aged woman who cared for her deeply. Mariana was never formally adopted, but Angelica doted on her as if she was her granddaughter. Angelica also kept Mariana's secrets safe, like the fact that Mariana was a witch and studied at Beauxbatons. Mariana had always wanted to go to Hogwarts, but Angelica strictly forbade her.

"But why, mama?" asked a puzzled Mariana.

"That school is dangerous. I've heard that the Headmaster, el Doombeldoor, is a very dangerous man, and I won't have you hurt."

"But mama you know I can take care of myself. I get the best grades in defense against ze dark arts."

"Don't make fun of Beauxbatons, hija. You have had a great education there."

Mariana groaned inwardly. She suspected that her mama had a hidden reason for keeping her from Hogwarts, because rumors and accusations were made against Madame Maxime all the time and Angelica had no problem with those. As she looked up to the afternoon moon on a clear July day, she felt a tingle of guilt and satisfaction knowing that she secretly arranged to transfer to Hogwarts the coming fall, which was easy since Angelica never accompanied her to Beauxbatons. One of the reasons Mariana De Las Casas was deemed extremely clever by her professors was her relentless curiosity.

Hermione was dumb and useless in China. She made no attempts on Chinese, and stayed in her hotel room for most of her trip. She decided to finish the rest of her summer homework, being interrupted occasionally by commands from Kimberly to dress up and look presentable for guests. She learned how to place her impossible frizz into an elegant updo in five minutes or less, and do makeup in two. Hermione liked her face clean, without the chemical coating of foundation and concealer. She dreamed of being a virgin priestess who lived in the wood, healing the poor and sick, walking barefoot, wearing cotton robes, and bathing in cold water. Hermione wanted to be a girl forever. No womanhood for her. She was only to bee seen and heard, never affected by the touch of hands or strong passions. She had enough of her own. Hermione never understood why she felt this way. Yes, she wanted love, but she didn't want to give too much and get hurt, although it seemed like all she was doing was crying nowadays...
Ron found a job at a small clothing store in the heart of Ottery St. Catchpole. He needed this to keep his mind distracted for a bit from the confusion at home. He wasn't distressed, he was Ron. He just had to find out what Ginny was up to and how to get Percy home. Anyway, Ron took the job in Chatterly Square because of the fashions it contained. He was just fascinated by the fashion trends of young Muggles. He worked the stockroom, opening boxes, folding shirts and jeans on the shelves, counting supplies. He loved the torn jeans and cotton t-shirts with funny statements like "I'm with stupid" on them. He chuckled inwardly at how fascinated Muggles were with light-up sneakers, because any Wizard could make various things light up on whim…

In Chatterly Square, Ron became well acquainted with many Muggles of the town. He befriended a co-worker by the name of Taonga Taniwha. She was the one who showed him the ropes in the store, and the first co-worker who joined him for lunch. Taonga and Ron spoke of many things, like Muggle music and movies (Ron did some reading up on the topic so as to not look weird).

Christian Chelate, an exchange student from Russia was born in Downtown London. He worked for Granger and Granger Orthodontistry in the Southwest Corner. He lived modestly with a tall, pale, dark haired man called Calliope Chelate who obviously adopted him, because they looked nothing alike. Christian loved pizza, poetry, and basketball. He also loved working for Mr. and Mrs. Granger because it meant he got to spend time with their lovely daughter, Hermione. Therefore, he was truly delighted when the Grangers invited him to China with them.

Hong Kong was amazing. The city was full of everything possible. At night, the lights dazzled tourists. Even the sin was appealing in its sadness. The whores looked happy. Hermione was not so cheery. Christian wondered why because he had never seen such a magnificent city. Then again, Christian appreciated the London underground more than most.

Notes: This is my first fic so I can do with some guidance in the form of reviews. If you are a writer reading this, please remember how loved you felt when people cared and wrote words of encouragement and advice. Thank you for reading!