Leaning over onto his side, Harry Potter let hiseyes wander into the darkness held beyond the open window in his rooms. At the sudden rush of wind which bellowed into the tiny room -- which, like so many other things that belong to Harry, had once belonged to his overly large cousin, Dudley-- he closed his eyes, just for simple enjoyment of the reprieve the wind gave to the heat. Sighing as the breeze died down, he again opened his eyes to watch the night and the twinkling stars.

He'd been like this for the past couple of days, scanning the skies for his faithful snowy owl Hedwig, whom he had sent off earlier that week for word from either of his friends. Just as the night before, and the one before that, the inky blackness remained devoid of any white bird flying in his direction, and with a sigh, Harry sat up on his bed and turned towards the nightstand where there was a picture of his mother and father.

With a smile he didn't know he had, Harry watched as the parents he never got a chance to know danced around inside the shining silver frame, returning the smile that he bestowed down upon their photographic selves. Sighing, he set the frame back upon the desk.

"I miss you mum…You as well dad." The words were but whispers, and as if understanding, the couple in the photograph turned towards their son and offered tearful smiles back to him, along with silent words of the same nature as his.

With nothing but time on his hands, Harry relented to lying back on the bedspread with his hands laced behind his head to stare at the ceiling, picking out spots here and there with his green eyes that he thought could resemble some sort of animal, fictional or otherwise. After all, who was to say what types of animals were fictional or not? He thought he saw a spot that resembled a Hippogriff and his thoughts turned towards Buckbeak and of course Sirius. Of his Godfather, he knew as little of him as he had his parents, and now he too, like them was taken from the world.

It was difficult to fight back the tears threatening to pour out of his eyes as if a dam had broken, and succeeded in stemming the flow to a few drops and several chokes. With the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, he didn't notice the speck of white on the horizon that steadily grew larger. Only until he had wiped the last vestiges of tears from the corners of his eyes did he look up to notice a flourish of white.

Hedwig flew in though the window and over to Harry, alighting gently on his stomach and cocking her head, almost in a concerned manner to the side before giving a gentle hoot, as if reassuring him things were alright, and to drive the thought deeper, she held out a leg to which was bound an envelope.

Taking it from her leg and sitting up, which sent the owl off of his stomach and to his side, he slowly opened the letter.

Dear Harry,

I'm sorry I haven't written to you before now, but I have been busy with things here. I just recently got back from vacationing with my parents, but I'll tell you about that when we see you; 'we' being Ron, his family, and me.I doubt you will object, but we figured we'd ask if you'd like to come to the Burrow for the remainder of the holiday. We know those Muggle relatives of yours are awful. Send a reply back with Hedwig.Love from,

HermioneP.S. Tell her not to peck at us this time?

With a smile towards his bird, he gave her a gentle pat atop her smooth head.

"Good girl, Hedwig."

Taking the letter, he vacated his spot upon the bed, he dove beneath the bed and wrenched the loose floorboard that was underneath free, pulling from the space below a quill, ink and some parchment. Placing the letter in there, along with others he had received over the years, not including the ones in his truck in the cupboard beneath the stairs, he set to penning his reply.

Hermione,

Are you mental? Of course I'd love to come to the Burrow. Do you even have to ask?

Would you mind looking after Hedwig until I arrive?

Harry

Tying the short letter to Hedwig's leg and giving her another affectionate pat and smile, Harry carried her over to the window.

"You'll be staying at the Burrow until I arrive. Don't look at me like that, it won't be long, and I'm sure the Weasely's won't mind."

With a flutter of wings, she was off into the night and quickly vanishing into the darkness.

There wasn't anything left to do now but sleep, and as he looked to his watch he let out a yawn, noticing that the time was 1:42 in the morning. Undressing, Harry climbed into bed and fell asleep with a smile on his face. He wasn't going to have to spend the holiday here after all.

Nearly a week had passed since Harry sent Hedwig off to the Burrow. He figured it would have taken a day, two at most to retrieve him from this Muggle prison. His mood was suffering from such and decided it would be best to remain out of sight of his Uncle, not that he cared. The further from him that Harry was, the better. He didn't have to look at him that way, didn't need to comment about his appearance, or constantly berate him for being a 'freak'. 'All the better' thought Harry, soon he'd be gone and the sooner they could get on to being the perfect family of snobbishness that they were.

This day, a particularly warm one, found Harry eavesdropping on the family as they sat in the family room, listening to the afternoon news. Harry had taken up this new habit as a way to end the monotony of sitting in his room, however this new routine was beginning to have the same, dull, feel. The news was always the same. A breakthrough in using less water and getting a healthier lawn --Uncle Vernon would be interested in that, Harry thought--, and other various articles that were equally useless.

Today's news seemed to be just as boring as the rest of the week's had been, and Harry was about to call it quits until he heard something that made him stop.

"…sion. Late yesterday evening, there was word of a large power plant failure in a small town just north of London. Experts can't say what caused the failure, only that the explosion that followed seems to have destroyed the entire town that it resided in. Ministry Officials are baffled as well, and reassure the public that all their resources will be put to discovering the cause of this tragic accident."

"'Accident' my arse." Harry mumbled, angrily. What other explanation could there be? An entire town destroyed. It had to be him. How many more had to suffer at his hands, Muggles and Wizards alike. He didn't know the answer to that, and thought it best not to dwell on such for the moment.

Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to, for at that moment there came a harsh knock at the door and the sound of Uncle Vernon rising from his armchair could be heard, along with his angry mutters of who could possibly be calling during the news. Harry had to think fast. He could either remain where he was, and be spotted, or try and rush up the stairs, likely drawing notice to himself by the rushing of his feet up the stairs. In the end, he found it useless and to try and make a break for it and remained where he was, willing to suffer the wrath of his Uncle.

As the large, purple faced and mustached man came into the hall, his eyes fell on Harry, and if he had thought his Uncle's face couldn't become more enraged he was wrong.

"I'll deal with you in a moment." he hissed through gritted teeth as he walked to the door as a new round of knocking came.

"Hold your bloody horses, I'm coming." He wrench the door open. "What do you wa-" At taking in the sight of the person at the door, Uncle Vernon's words seemed to become stuck in his throat and his eyes seemed to bulge, nearly out of his head. From his vantage point, Harry could see his Uncle's face in the mirror hanging in the hall and had a momentary image of uncle choking to death. Shaking his head to rid himself of the image, he turned to look past Vernon Dursley and his jaw dropped. Standing there on the porch was Mad-Eye Moody, his gnarled staff beneath his hand and his chin nearly propped up on it.

"Well, aren't you going to invite me in, Dursley?" he growled, and didn't wait for a reply before pushing past the beefy, momentarily silent man blocking his way.

"Now just hold on. Who the ruddy hell do you think you are coming into my home uninvited?" A vein in Harry's uncle's neck was threatening to burst. Maybe he'd have an Aneurysm. Where were these thoughts of his uncle falling dead coming from? With another quick shake of his head, the thought was cast aside as Moody responded to Vernon.

"You didn't say I couldn't come in, now did you?" His magical, electric blue eye whirled around and settled on Harry. "Packed yet?"

"N-No." Harry stammered, "I didn't know when, or if I'd be leaving."

Clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, Moody pulled out his wand and gave it a wave.

"Should always be prepared, boy. Anything could come up that would require a quick leave." In a matter of moments, Harry's trunk burst from the cupboard and the rest of his school things came flying down the stairs to become packed neatly in the trunk.

By this time, his Aunt and Cousin had ventured into the hallway to see what was going on, and had stood, shocked into what could pass as statues at the entrance to the den.

"Well then Potter, everything's packed, best be off."

Without replying, Harry followed behind Moody as he again shoved past his uncle who had become as still as his wife and son.

Soon Harry and Moody were out onto the street, walking slowly down the quiet road with nothing but the rustle of leaves and the clunk of Moody's staff to accompany them.

"How, erm…How are we traveling?" Harry dared to ask. He hoped not by the Knight Bus. How he loathed that thing, with it's jumping from one street to the next and sudden stops.

"Apparating." The ex-Auror mumbled. "When we get to the end of the street. Others are waiting for us."

They'd be at the end of the street in a couple of minutes, Harry thought, but he couldn't see anyone at the end, in fact, he couldn't see anything. It was pitch black, not even the streetlights were lit. As the pair ventured into the darkness, others, as nothing but shadowy outlines emerged.

"All set Nymphadora?" Moody asked, as he heard Tonks mumble something before replying.

"Yes, Mad-Eye." she said sharply, "All's clear."

He felt Moody's hand take hold of his arm like a vice and hear him begin to count backwards.

"Three…Two…On-." Bang. Harry had never Apparated before, but he didn't think it was supposed to feel like that, and leave him winded and dazed. He was right as his vision slowly stopped blurring and looked around into the darkness that seemed to crush in on him from all sides. They hadn't Apparated. They were still on Privet Drive and in the middle of a battle. To the left and right members of the Order were dueling Death Eaters, and they seemed vastly outnumbered by the black cloaked followers of Voldemort.

A rush of red came towards Harry before it vanished with another coming of air being driven from his lungs by a forceful shove. Drawing his wand he looked around again. The Order members seemed to be holding their own, hardly any of them were down while a fair few of the Death Eaters were.

Catching sight of a flash of pink, he thought he saw Tonks, and then he saw Remus, all the while curses flew in every direction. Venturing from the spot he had been shoved to, Harry quickly ducked to the line of Order members before being run over, or tackled by the pink haired Tonks.

"Stay down Harry." She had grabbed him by the back of the neck, placing herself in front of him as she continued to fling curses this way and that. Several fired from a Death Eater whizzed by, making the hair on the left side of Harry's body stand on end and the air that it passed through crackle, as if the very particles had been electrified with the passing of the curse.

"We have to get you out of here Harry." She smiled at him, even as a flash of green interrupted his sight momentarily. She continued to smile as she slumped against him, limp.

All noise seemed to stop, even all movement seemed to as he gently laid Tonks upon the ground. With his wand drawn and spotting a masked figure ahead, he acted without thought. He had had enough of it. Enough of the killing, enough of the suffering, it had to stop, but he didn't know how to stop it. With his sights trained on the lone Death Eater surveying his comrades that were occupied, Harry leveled his wand. He knew this was the one who had cast the killing curse on Tonks. Why did those he had come to care for always have to be ripped away from him? True, he hadn't been particularly close to Tonks, but none the less, she was a friend.

Without thought, the words came to his mouth as he drew back his wand.

"Avada Keda-"

Then black. A suffocating darkness that he couldn't pull himself from.