This Story is a continuation of my other story, "A Mirror is All He's needed" found under my name in the profile. It would be useful if you read the other story first. Thank you

Chapter 1

Before all of this Happened
Escaping the room, which had just caught on fire from the trees in front of his windows. Harry ran down the stairs, unsure what to do, after all, the Order members ordered him to stay inside the house, no matter what the circumstances were. Would that include the burning houses and the neighborhood engulfed in flames? Harry went down into the living room, and saw his relatives running out of the door, panicking. Harry screamed for them to stay, afraid that he would no longer have protection from them. Only one person listened, and Aunt Petunia stayed, but her husband and Dudley begged to leave the house.

"Mum! Please! We're going to die in here!"

"No we won't!" Petunia screamed back at her son. "Harry, can't you at least put out the fires!?"

It only dawned on him; he can do underage magic only when his life is in danger. This would be one of the situations, and he went back up the stairs, his wand ready. He had shut the door and yelled.

"Alohomora!" Harry opened the door with magic, and casts the water charm on the fires, which was getting out of control. In the background, he heard screams from other houses. There was some laughter mixing with the screams.

After putting the flames out, he heard the front door crashing open. He stuck his head out of his door and bearably glimpsed the black cloaks with white masks. Cursing himself, and he casts the enlarging charm under in his loose floorboard. He quickly squeezed himself into the floorboard's space, which was very spacious. Glad that he had received food from his friends in the room he'd created.

He listened carefully for the footsteps on the stairs and soon enough. He heard at least three pairs of footfalls coming up and barged in the room.

"He's not here!'

"Search the rooms, he should be somewhere in here!"

Then Harry heard footsteps walking around in his room, presumably looking under the bed and in the closet, and other likely hiding spaces. Sounding as he was frustrated, left the room and met up with the others.

"No luck Lucius?"

"No," replied the familiar drawling voice.

"Well, he can't have disappeared or disapparated for that matter."

"He may have a portkey for emergency. Nevermind that, kill his relatives, they're of no use, and then blow this house up," with that, the drawling voice left the upstairs floor. Harry hoped that the room's he is in is protective enough. He really didn't want anything to happen to him. Most of all, his only relatives, whom had treated him horribly. He felt so bad, after putting up with them from age one. However, what was he supposed to do? He didn't stand a chance against them now that he was in weakened state from the Azkaban.

Next thing he knew, the room vibrated horribly and saw flashes of white flames before his eyes. Then he was blacked out, into the darkness.
Groaning, and with a sudden realization, that he had a really bad headache thudding horribly. Lurching forward, trying to massage his temples but with no progress in lessening the headache. He looked up, and saw himself in the dark.

Every single part of him ached as he moved, and realized some parts of him were filled with sticky fluids. Unsure of what had happened, and tried to find his way out of this small room. He discovered the hatch above him, which was a small hole to go through. He struggled himself out of there and discovered the room he crawled into. The whole place were in ashes and torn apart.

With a heavy pang, he didn't know what had happened to this place, nor where he was. Fear gripped his stomach. Who was he?

He walked down some broken steps, trying to figure out where he was. All of the papers, and what seems like picture frames, are not recognizable anymore. The second from last step gave way when he stepped on it. Crumbling down to the floor and rolled twice. Swallowing the groan that threatened to escape his throat, he slowly got up. In front of him, he saw something big, lumpy, but very black, ash-looking. He hoped that it wasn't a dead body before him.

Deep down though, he knew it was a body belonging once to someone. Sickened, he stepped out of the room, through the already opened door, and found himself outside of the building. He walked along the broken sidewalks and discovered that all other houses were in the same shape just as the building he'd left. Feeling somewhat horrified. He still don't know who he was, yet thought he should.

How was he supposed to find some help in this place? Feeling as though he was being watched, which he couldn't shake it off. The dark-haired boy felt unsafe in the place he found himself in. He walked for several kilometers, trying to figure out what in the world had happened. Where was everybody? Was he the only person alive in these parts? He shoved his hands into his pockets and felt something long and circular object in his right pocket. Curious, he took the said object out.

He examined the thing for a while, trying to understand what it was. He felt that the thing, which he would call a stick, an important clue to his identity. He didn't know exactly what it was. Frustrated at not finding anything new about himself, he shoved his stick back into his pocket and continued to walk on the horrible sidewalks. He looked up into the sky, trying to find some more clues about anything that was going on.

He privately commented that the sky were an overcast with few and far between, patches of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Still feeling troubled; he looked behind him and heard a shuffling noises. Curious and cautious, he quietly retraced his steps.

"H-hello?" he spoke, and no response. "Anyone there? What happened to this place?" Then he saw some movements at the corner of his left eye and shifted toward the movement. He saw that it was a young boy with short, straight black hair with brown eyes walking slowly toward him.

"You don't know?" he asked quietly.

"No, all I found myself was in a dark room in some torn down building. In fact, I don't even know who I am."

"Really? Well, good thing for you, I do know who you are. You're Harry Potter, who went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys . . ." he replied nervously.

"You're saying that I'm some kind of criminal?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The boy nodded cautiously.

"Well, that's what I've heard, anyways, maybe you're not really are, you know," he replied. The older dark-haired boy sighed.

"And what the hell happened to this place? Is it always like in this shape or what? I just have this feeling it wasn't…."

"It wasn't like this until three nights ago," he said with a shudder. "It was horrible, a nightmare. I'm glad you don't remember any of it. I guess you're lucky," he said with distant shadows in his eyes. Harry noted that.

"You mean to say that I was out for two days?" Harry asked.

"Looks like it, you must've been caught in some explosions, look at the state you're in! Some miracle that you're still walking."

"Oh," he looked down at himself and he thought that the younger boy was right. He was covered in scrapes, bruises and some nasty cuts mostly on his torso and arms. "Wait, I never got your name, who're you?"

"I'm Mark Evans, turned eleven three days ago, some birthday," he muttered. "So, what do you reckon we should do?"

"I don't know, I bloody lost my memory," Harry replied, shaking his head.

"I suppose I could try and help you, well, do you remember Dudley?" Harry took the moment to try and remember and shook his head no. "Jeez, you must have one hell of an amnesia."

Harry sighed, "Please don't make this any harder on me, now who's this Dudley?"

"He's your cousin, and he used to beat me up from time to time. He was also a boxing champion for some title. He's on a heavy side if you know what I mean. In fact, I think most of us were more scared of him than you. That's saying something. Anyways, yeah, he's your cousin."

"Oh… well I still don't remember a thing, not even a single bell," said Harry exhaling his breath.

"Well, then I guess we'll get anywhere since those things I said were the only thing I know about you."

"Hmm, and tell me, please, tell me about what happened three nights ago? It might bring something back."

"Well, all I saw was lots of fires, and something hung over the houses. The shape was a skull with a snake slithering around its eyes. I saw some people in their cloaks and some white masks. They had something in their hand, a stick I guess, and lots of lights came out of that. You could call that a wand of sorts," Mark explained.

Harry realized what Mark was describing, was the thing sitting in his pocket. "Er-"

"Do you remember something now?"

"Not really, except I think I have what you just described…" Harry said nervously.

"Do you really?" he asked with horrified look on his face. Harry slowly took the stick out of his pocket and showed it to Mark.

"Oh my god, it is! Y-yo-you're sure you don't remember anything?"

"Why the hell would I lie?" Harry replied, quickly shoving the stick-now-wand into his pocket.

"I don't know, to get me I guess," muttered Mark, eyeing his pocket cautiously. Harry sighed and looked around in his surrounding.

"I think I'm hungry…" Harry announced as his stomach growled. Mark chuckled at this, and shook his head lightly.

"'Course you are, you must've been out for two days, c'mon, let's find some food in one of those houses," with that, Mark and Harry went into a crumbled building and raided the place for food. Luckily some were still eatable and able to salvage for something to eat. Harry sat down in one of the chairs still standing.

"So, after this, what do we do?" Harry asked as he bit into a banana. Mark shrugged, eating his apple.

"There's not much to do except to find some food, loot some things and such. You're the first person I found since that night. I even went to downtown to find some policemen or even some troops, but the buildings are also torn down, and no one was alive either."

Harry nodded in understanding that he knew what he was talking about. The boys finished their meal and drank some juices from the small boxes. The two boys set out outside again, exploring a little and salvaging whatever food the could find. Mark talked of Dudley and his gangs, and the time he was at school. Harry learned that he wasn't exactly very popular, but rather teased often about how tiny he was and people took advantage of that. Nevertheless, he is rather talkative once he's known someone for five minutes or so.

Then the day fell into the night, and the two boys went into a house, which Mark mentioned being his home. The two went to sleep, waiting for the new day to arrive.

This went on for two weeks and three days, with looting some undamaged materials such as watches, blankets, couches, as well as stocking up food at Mark's house. The two boys had discovered that some people in black cloaks have been found to be walking around searching for something. Of course, the two males hid themselves, in fear of being killed once discovered. Their search of something went on for six days. They had quit searching three days ago.

However, today, two owls had came by and dropped some parchment mail in front of the two boys. Curious, and looking at each other and stared at the mail in front of them. Harry and Mark picked up their respective mail and stared at the address. Widening in surprise and shock, it read:

Harry Potter
8 Privet Drive
Largest Bedroom

Harry looked over to Mark, with identical expression on his face. Both nodded, and carefully opened their mail. Harry read the contents.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please note that the new School year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. A list of books for next year is enclosed.

Yours sincerely,

Professor S. Snape

Deputy Headmaster

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Mark spoke up after a moment's silence. Harry shook his head, trying to understand what the hell was the letter saying.

"I'm not sure, but for some reason, its rung an odd bell…"

"Wait a minute, your wand! That really must mean we're wizards or something…."

"Could be…" replied Harry, frowning at the paper. What was it that rung something deep in his memory? Lately, his dreams had been odd, watching the people in dark cloaks and their masks. He had cast something from the wand at some people, causing them to scream in pain. Other times were when he had spoken his own name.

Flashback

"It's your fault that you didn't find Harry Potter! He's been missing for nearly two weeks! Even the general wizarding world doesn't know where he is! Crucio!" He heard loud painful screams and stopped. "Do you have anything else to say?" Harry asked.

"No my lord, no," breathed the person, trying to composure himself.

"Very well, get back in the circle!"
Flash forward

"I'm not sure…" Harry said, frowning. "Why would I say my own name though?"

"What're you muttering about?" Mark asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, just trying to figure something out, like my dreams for example… and I wonder why my scar keeps hurting every time I wake up from one of those dreams. It doesn't make any sense!"

"Maybe it's cursed," joked Mark.

"Maybe…" Harry said seriously.

"Oh come off it, it can't be, can it?"

"Well, now that we both know we're wizards, it can be possible you know," Harry said, heaving a sigh.

"I suppose, but where do we find these stuff on the list?"

"I don't know, listen, let's go back to my old house and see if we can find any clues," Harry said, getting up from his chair. Mark followed him out of the house and went over to Harry's house and began to search.

"Hey, look here!" Mark exclaimed after twenty minutes of searching. Harry went down the stairs and into the room what resembled a kitchen. He found Mark standing next to an opened door to what seemed like a cupboard. Harry froze in that spot.

"Wait a minute… I remember something," Harry said slowly.

"Really, what is it?" Mark asked anxiously.

"I-it-Er-well that cupboard used to be my room for ten years…."

"You're joking," Mark said, half teasing but half shocked.

"No I'm not, I do remember that, and… Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon… They hated me; they really hated me…" Harry said quietly, remembering some of the memories flowing through his mind. He sat down on the floor, exhausted at what he had remembered. "Dudley used to have me as a punching bag…."

"No wonder he was so good," scoffed Mark. Harry only nodded and looked at the opened cupboard.

"What'd you find?"

"This," he pulled something big and heavy. With a loud thunk, the trunk landed on the floor and Harry stared at it. Mark looked at Harry cautiously and opened the lid of the trunk. Harry looked in and found a broom with a Firebolt imprinted in it, lots of parchments, books and other various of things. Like cloaks, diamond-shape thing, feathers which he assumed, writing material.

"Whoa…" Harry breathed, looking at the stuff.

"Whoa is right, some of this has your name on it, so this must be your stuff."

"Yeah, and I'm surprised that this survived the explosion…."

"You're right, it's odd, perhaps it's because it's got some kind of charm that prevents any damage to the trunk?"

"Perhaps," Harry said slowly. "Well, there might be directions to where ever we need to go and buy the stuff. At least we know where the King Cross is."

Mark nodded, and both shut the lid close and carried the trunk back to Mark's house. That night, the two went through the things in Harry's trunk, trying to find some clues. Harry found some letters addressed to him. He soon learned that there was people named Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Dumbledore and Ginny wrote to him. He imagined that they were very worried about where he was or if he was still alive. Then through the books, he'd refreshed his memory on spells he can do like locomotion spells, and levitating things.

However, not trusting himself to actually try some magic; out for fear of exploding something up.

"Oh come on Harry, I don't care if you explode anything else up, just try to lift that car," Mark complained. Harry shook his head for twentieth time and Mark whined. "Fine, see if I speak to you today!" he huffed, turning away from Harry. Sighing and took out his wand. Mark spun around, grinning, "I knew you would do it!" Harry nodded dully and spoke.

"Locomotor car!" he moved the car out of the driveway and onto the street and made the car drive away for one block and stopped. Harry grinned, knowing that he didn't blow anything up. He half-heard the whooping sounds in the background from Mark.

"See! I knew you can do it!" Mark exclaimed, Harry nodded, grinning. Then the two went back inside the house to get something to eat, but moments later, he found an owl flying into the kitchen and dropped a mail in front of Harry. Looking at Mark questionably and picked the mail up carefully. He examined a seal with official looking shape with the words inscribed into it. 'Ministry of Magic', Harry opened the mail and it read.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Due to the underage magic occurring at your residency ten minutes to five in the afternoon. You will receive a suspension from Hogwarts until you attend the Hearing for your disciplinary decision of to expell you or not. This hearing will be held on August twenty-eight.

Sincerely,

Underage of Sorcery Magical Law

Harry read the parchment three times, trying to understand what the hell it was saying. A bad feeling grew in his stomach and swallowed the lump in his throat. He looked up at Mark who was looking at him anxiously.

"Well?"

"I wasn't supposed to use magic…" Harry said softly, looking back at the paper.

"WHAT!?" he took the paper from Harry to read for himself. "You've got to be kidding me!" he said after a moment of reading the letter. "This is crazy, you had no idea if you were allowed or not! I'll be your witness."

"Yeah… and how am I getting there?" Then he and Mark heard a doorbell ringing inside the house. The two stared at each other, wondering who would ring the bell in this neighborhood. Cautiously, Harry and Mark made way to the door. Harry, being the taller one, looked into the peep-hole and stood horrified. It was those people in cloaks that were trying to find something several days ago. He whispered urgently to Mark.

"It's them! It's those who were trying to find something!" Harry said, and Mark widened in fear and looked in the peep-hole himself, who had rung the bell again.

"What do we do!?" Mark asked, and saw that the doorknob was opening. Harry stood back quickly, and Mark followed behind him. Harry drew his wand, unsure of what spell to throw at whoever it was. At the doorsteps were three people, one with black long hair, another with pink spiky hair, and one in the middle with blond shaggy hair with some grey strips.

The blond haired guy spoke, "Hey Harry, watch it, put the wand down! It's us!"

"Who're you?" Harry demanded. The three looked at him surprised.

"What do you mean, who are we? Don't you remember me Harry? Wotcher Harry?" The female pink-haired person asked.

"No I don't, and don't you play games with me! I know it was you three part of the killings on that night!"

"Yeah, don't try anything or we-we'll-"

"Or you'll what?" sneered the black-haired man with long hooked nose.

"Don't you try anything!" said Harry firmly holding his wand out at the three. The blonde haired man frowned at Harry.

"What's wrong with you Harry? Have you forgotten about us?"

"Perhaps," said Harry coolly, watching him carefully.

"Okay, how about we do this, we surrender our wands and let us talk," he said. The black haired guy stared at him like he was crazy.

"Lupin! Are you a fool!?"

"No, we have to have him trust us that we won't hurt him," he replied.

"I think I agree about surrendering your wands, now put it on the table over there," he nodded to the table ten feet away. The three slowly walked to the table, surrendering their wands, with the black-haired reluctantly surrendering his. "Now go sit at the sofa," Harry pointed to the sofa twenty feet away. The three walked to the said seats. He heard some mutterings from the hooked-nose man something like, 'can't believe I'm being ordered by a Potter.'

"Okay, speak," Harry sat opposite of them, with Mark next to him.

"I'm Remus Lupin, this is Nyphmadora Tonks," she shot a glare at Remus, "whom like to be called Tonks by the way. And this is Severus Snape."

Harry and Mark gasped at this. "You're joking!" exclaimed Mark. The three stared at him suspiciously. "I mean, it was him who sent us the Hogwarts letter…."

"Its times like these I wish that mail wasn't on auto mailing lists…" Snape muttered. "At least you'll know who I am in some sense." Harry and Mark nodded.

"Well, we've been searching for you since the nights of killings as you say. Some of us thought you were killed in the house, and er, our spy informed us that Voldemort didn't have you," Remus said.

"Who's Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Someone who is the darkest Dark Lord of all time, likes to kill people and has his group of people known as Death eaters," Harry gaped again. His memory stirring in his head.

"Wait a minute, then who was that guy in my dreams…?"

"That would be those dreams that you are in Voldemort's mind at the time," sneered Snape.

"You're saying I was in his body?" Harry asked, appalled at the dreams.

"In a sense, yes," he replied coolly. "He was also the person who gave you the scar."

Again, his memory stirred, but more deeply than his dreams. He remembered the flashes of green light and woman screaming. Scene changed and he saw a boy falling after being hit by a green light. His memories came rolling in, the night of the killings; there had been hundreds of green jets of light flying all over the neighborhood from his window. He saw one flying toward him but had hit the shingles, catching on fire.

"Whoa…" Harry said after a while, remembering his memories.

"What?" chorused the four people in the room.

"I... I remember everyone dying by the green light. I remember my mum screaming, then that boy hit by the green light, and the jets of green lights on the killing night…" Harry spoke, and silence followed for good thirty seconds until Remus spoke.

"You remember everything now? About yourself, me, and everyone?"

"No," Harry replied sadly. "But everything's slowly coming back to me…. "

"Well, that's good, and by the way, you should know that everyone in the wizarding world knows your name. You could say that you're… famous…."

Harry groaned at this, "Me? Famous? Whatever for? I don't want everyone to know me!" Snape snorted at this, but Tonks and Remus glared at him.

"Well, at least you still have the same attitude about the fame part, well, you remember when your mum died? Well, it was after she died, and Voldemort tried to kill you with the killing curse, but you're the only person to survive the curse. Thus, giving you the 'famous' scar."

"I see… so I'm the only one who survived the killing curse?" Remus nodded in confirmation. "Hmm, well, that's taken quite a lot out of me. Now, I suppose you know where to shop for school supplies?"

"Oh yes we do, we can do that tomorrow."

"Okay, well then, good night," Harry got up, expecting them to leave the house. When they didn't, Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to leave?" Harry asked.

"No, I thought we were going to take you back to… er the Headquarters…" Remus said slowly.

"No thanks," Harry replied, still not trusting the three. "Sorry, but I don't trust you three just yet, you could just be acting and try to take me or whatever. Now, good night," he pointed, indirectly, to the front door. The three caught his signal and reluctantly got up from the sofa and left the house. Harry shut the door lightly and went up the stairs to sleep.

The next morning arrived, casting sun rays onto the black-haired boy with brilliant green eyes. Shifting in his sleep, turning his face away from the annoying sun beams. With a sudden jolt, Harry sat up, remembering the events from last night. Cautiously, he got out of his bed, clutching his wand in his pocket.

He went downstairs into the kitchen and found himself not alone in Mark's company. Remus, Severus, and Tonks were there. In addition, along with another two people in the room. One with black hair tightly pulled up into a bun her hat in her left hand. The other male had short black hair. Harry looked over to Mark, narrowing his eye slits..

"Why did you let them in?"

"I tried not to!" He whispered back nervously. "They said they would tie me up if I prevent them from getting in the house!" Harry nodded, understanding what he was saying.

How dare they use threats!'Harry thought angrily. "You, should have not used threats! Get out of this house!"

"No," said the aged woman. Harry growled at this.

"Well, if you wanted to talk to us, you could have done so peacefully! Now get out and come back later tonight if you wish," Harry snapped. The other adults widened at Harry's behavior, most of all, the unknown black-hair male.

"Harry! I didn't want to believe this when they said you don't remember us, but you really have!" he exclaimed.

"Boo-hoo, should I be sorry?" asked Harry sarcastically. "And who're you two?"

"I'm Sirius, your godfather…" he answered. Harry rose an eyebrow. Last night before the group showed up, he saw briefly through a photo album and letters from him. Unfortunately, the pictures and letters did nothing to stir in his memory.

"Oh…. Yeah, I saw you in one of the pictures in the album. I suppose you're right. Okay I'll give a test. Who gave me my Firebolt?" Harry asked, remembering one of the letters addressed to Harry.

"I did," Sirius said. Harry grinned, and slowly put down the wand.