Chapter One

You're thoughts and opinions are always welcomed. If you needed a refresher for the synopsis: Harry is leading the resistance in the battle against Tom Riddle's Death Eaters but when he has to hide for his life he comes across Ginny Weasley, and from there, he begins to see things differently.

As always, these characters do not belong to me.

Harry's footfalls thundered in his ears as he sprinted down the brick path. He was not supposed to be here. In fact, he was very late. He had planned to meet Ron and Hermione at the oldest and smallest wooden shed their current assignment group, the 'Death Eaters' had abandoned ten minutes ago. The shed was on the outskirts of one of the Death Eater bases, which were really just an old collection of small manufacturer sheds that had been left for more expensive and larger buildings by the owners.

His pursuer's angry voices yelled to their companions, ordering them to cut off Harry's path. Harry quickly turned down the nearest gap between two of the corrugated iron made sheds. He narrowed his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness. His breath steamed out behind him as his lungs demanded more air. He ignored his aches and pains for he had bigger problems that needed all of his thinking ability. Figures suddenly appeared ahead of Harry at the other opening between the buildings. They ran towards Harry to prevent him, blocking his route.

Harry gritted his teeth. He had wanted to complete this assignment with little to no combat on his part. The Death Eaters had become ruthless and stronger under their crazed leader, Tom Riddle, and Harry was one of many placed into an elite, fighting squad who were prepared to do anything to end their reign of terror. Being so young, many voiced their concern that Harry would not be able to handle the war upon them when he was first inducted. He had proven them wrong and now at twenty one, four years later, was one of the main leaders still remaining.

A few feet away from his on comers, Harry realised he would have to do something about his Death Eater pals if he ever wanted to get to the shed. He looked at his surroundings now as he ran and noticed in what small light he was offered leftover grates pushed against the wall. He leapt onto one, then lifted one leg up against the wall and using his momentum, kicked off of the wall hard, spinning and connecting with the closest Death Eater. The man grunted and fell hard to the ground with Harry landing next to his head. He ignored the dull pain in his foot from the impact and turned to his next attacker.

The attacker swung wildly in the dark. Harry ducked and then blocked as a second fist came towards his head. Harry threw his first jab to the man's jaw, which hit his block instead. Harry dodged another punch and then brought his knee up to the Death Eater's sternum. He grunted and doubled over but before Harry could finish him, he was grabbed from behind and pulled away. Harry struggled in their grasp that was moving up towards his throat. He gasped and grappled until he remembered to keep a level head in times. He brought his right elbow to the stomach of his handler. Again and again he pushed his elbow back until the Death Eater's grasp eased enough for Harry to worm free. Harry twisted, palming the attacker in the nose. He recoiled and then Harry placed a well-aimed front kick to his chest. He flew across the space and smashed into the wall, where he slid to the base and remained there, unmoving.

A shift in movement behind Harry made him turn where he was met with a fist to his cheek. He was blinded for second. Long enough to get tackled from the side and driven into the wall. He yelled as he felt the dents of the wall try and mould his back to its shape. A few chosen uppercuts had his tackler groaning on the ground. Harry dealt with his next Death Eater in exactly three jabs, interspaced with five blocks and a knee to his head. The Death Eater Harry engaged first hobbled somewhat reluctantly towards him but was lying face down one punch later. There was a yell and Harry faced his last pursuer. Harry sucked in a deep breath and then dropped low to the ground as the Death Eater pulled out a gun. Harry swung his leg around in a low roundhouse kick and tripped him. As the man fell the gun went off in his hands. Harry rolled away in case he got hit with a stray bullet. His ears were ringing but he pounced on him, knocking the gun out of his hand and smashing the handle against his head. The Death Eater went still.

Harry lurched to his feet and sprinted away. He pulled the hood over his head to blend in; he hadn't wanted to cause any more attention to himself. He knew Hermione would be furious with him but he couldn't help the feeling of elation as the adrenaline coursed through his body. He had to dive into shadows of buildings a few more times to avoid the eyes of the Death Eaters before skidded into a small gap in the shed. He slid so fast and perfectly that he almost collided with Ron.

'What kept you?' Ron asked, smiling down at Harry.

Harry rose to a crouch, lifting the hood from his head. He crawled across to a small gap in the wall. 'They were waiting for me,' he told them through panted breaths, watching through the gap.

'That's impossible,' Hermione hissed. 'Even half of our team didn't know the hit was happening tonight.'

'I don't know what else to tell you, Hermione.' Harry tore his eyes away to face their anxious eyes. 'I set the rigs and was about to light the fuse when they barged in. The only advantage we have is that they think we are just breaking in for information.'

'Well then that Death Eater was actually in his right mind,' Ron mused. Hermione shot him a look. 'What? I ran into one of them. He said, 'the information you seek is not here', and then rambled on about how the we were about to be overthrown, blah, blah, blah…'

'And you didn't think to share this?' Hermione was trying to control her anger.

'They always say something like that so, no, I didn't think it was relevant,' Ron snapped back. 'Besides, I did just smash his head with a plank of wood. I assumed he was delirious.'

'Any information from them is relevant, Ron,' Hermione explained exasperatedly. Harry heard her tone and knew they must have had this argument before.

'There was also that little fact that Harry was, you know, missing,' Ron countered.

'Something's not right here,' Harry murmured, stopping the two of them from bickering further.

He watched as a few cloaked Death Eaters ran past their hiding spot, muttering to each other. Something glinted in their hands from the floodlights Hermione hadn't disconnected. Harry didn't need to guess too hard to know they were hand guns. There was something about the way they moved, their matched stride, efficient way they raised their guns when they heard the slightest noise.

'Look at this.' Harry motioned to Ron and Hermione. They crawled over to his side, peering out of similar gaps in the dilapidated shed.

'Those Death Eaters I met in the alley were a whole lot more organised as well,' Harry explained, once they had withdrawn from the side.

'It's true, then,' Hermione said in disbelief.

'What?' Harry and Ron asked her together.

Hermione grimaced. 'There were rumours … stupid rumours that were so far-fetched I didn't even consider …'

'Any time now,' Ron muttered.

Hermione shot Ron a filthy look but she continued. 'The Death Eaters were slowly gathering together. They had somehow managed to find out all of our safe houses and would attack them all simultaneously.'

'What does that mean?' Ron asked.

Harry had realised it, though. He spoke instead of Hermione. 'We are too late. The majority of the Death Eaters have already left to attack our safe houses. We are about to be overrun.'

Ron looked between the two of them as if waiting for one of them to laugh and say, 'just kidding'. Hermione had tears in her eyes as she nodded. Harry felt the weight of the truth at the pit of his stomach. The three of them knew this raid was a last ditch attempt to remain on top of the Death Eaters. Everyone was scared, opting to remain hidden or stay well away from the fight. It was a dire situation and now everyone who had sided against the Death Eaters was in danger.

The rest of the public was still oblivious to the war raging amongst them. Many others were in denial about the war, saying the deaths and destruction was done to freak accidents. A lot of Harry's colleagues actually encouraged the public to try and live as normal as possible, whilst trying to deal with the onslaught that faced them. If Harry and Hermione were right in thinking the public's last line of defence was about to be destroyed, then they won't be able to pretend there wasn't an uprising anymore.

'You two, get to the rendezvous point we organised,' Harry ordered. 'From there, contact as many of our fighters as you can and get them into hiding.'

Ron's and Hermione's faces were mostly covered in the darkness but Harry noticed their scandalised expressions from the whites of their eyes.

'And what about you?' Ron asked quietly.

'I'm going to finish what we started. No, don't start,' Harry said impatiently, as the two of them went to protest. 'We aren't leaving here without doing this. Now, I was the one who didn't light the fuse so I'm going to be the one who goes back.'

'But, Harry,' Hermione whispered. 'It's a suicide mission alone. We could all go back and leave covering each other's backs.'

'They don't know you are here. They have already seen me. I would rather they stay oblivious to your involvement. I can distract them while you get clear.'

'And how would you do that?' Ron asked.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blue remote that fit into Harry's palm. It had only one circular black button that was split in half.

'I found this in one of the warehouses. It activates an alarm, indicating an intruder in the building. It's on the opposite side of the base, so they'll be nowhere near you once you leave.'

'Once we leave, you mean,' Ron said pointedly.

'Ron, stop it. Your family needs you two to raise the alarm. They don't need me.'

Ron and Hermione fell silent. Their faces were a mixture of sadness, fear and worry but they knew he was right. Harry had no one to go back to, not since Sirius' murder. He was sure he would be missed if he managed to die but overall, he really didn't have a family, except for the two people in front of him. He had vowed the day he came to this realisation that he would do everything in his power to keep them alive. It soon came to include Ron's family, the Weasley's, who had adopted Harry as one of their own.

Hermione grabbed him and gave him a brief hug. Harry could her trying to stifle sobs that rose to her chest. Ron followed suit, wrapping his arms around the both of them.

'I'll be right,' Harry said. His voice was muffled against Hermione's shoulder. They pulled away and Harry gave them an encouraging smile. 'They haven't got me yet and I'm not about to break my spotless record against them.'

'Just … be careful, would you?' Hermione said anxiously. 'You may think you have no one but you have us.'

Harry assured he would and then went to the door. He opened it a fraction, peered out to make sure they had a free path. Satisfied they were, he crept out, alert for any sound or movement signifying the arrival of Death Eaters. Ron and Hermione followed him out. They gave him one last look before they ran silently towards the picket fence line where they had entered what felt like days ago. Harry watched his two best friends leave, praying it wouldn't be the last time he would see them.

He gave himself five seconds to control his emotions. Five … he took a deep breath. Four … he cleared his mind of worries for his friends and colleagues. Three … he had to focus on the task ahead. Two … he had to set the alarm, get to the building with the explosives, light the fuse. One … he could do this and stay alive.

Harry sprinted off in the opposite direction to Ron and Hermione, pressing the top half of the button on the remote. He discarded the remote as a high pitched wailing issued from the largest and most heavily renovated building in the space. Harry dove behind a small storage shed as Death Eaters thundered past him towards the wails. He waited nervously as more and more came and went. He only had a few minutes left before they realised it was a hoax.

Finally, the last of them dispersed and Harry sneaked his way across to the building. He threw aside the wooden pallet he put in place to hide his entry point. With a quick glance around him to make sure he was not being watched, he squeezed through the gap in the building. He grunted as he almost fell through. Cursing his depth perception, he stumbled over to fuse, noticing dimly that the building cut off the noise from outside. His head was beginning to spin from the chemical smell that filled the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed the spare petrol tanks the Death Eaters stored in the corner and then the small pile that he had brought in earlier. No one seeing it would believe it had enough power to blow the entire base sky high in seconds.

He smirked at the image before skimming his fingers along the ground until he found the end of the fuse. He took the cheap lighter from his pocket. He squinted as the flame burst to life from the end of the lighter. The fuse sparked as the flame met the tip. Harry let it fall to the ground. He had measured the fuse so he had three minutes to get clear before the base became rubble.

Harry got out of the gap a lot more gracefully then getting in. He wasted no time in admiring his skilful exit as the sound of the sirens came flooding back to him. He cut across three buildings before he skirted into the shadows of another. A few Death Eaters were in conversation, who unbeknownst to them, had cut off his escape route. Harry stay crouched against the building's wall, resting his head against it as he waited. He glanced down at his watch. Just over two minutes to get out.

'Come on,' he muttered agitatedly, glaring at them.

Harry couldn't wait there any longer. He skirted along to the other side of the building, his eyes searching for another route. There was a wide expanse of open land before the picket fence that indicated the border. Harry knew he didn't have a lot of time remaining and he would have to risk. He was about to take off when he was grabbed from behind, his collar now cutting into his neck. He was lifted to his feet. His hands automatically went to his neck, scratching at his crushing windpipe while his legs kicked out behind him at his attacker. He managed to get a lucky kick and strike his opponent, making his attacker release him. Oxygen rushed back into his lungs as he coughed and rose to face his attacker, who straightened with the look of upmost disgust.

Harry almost mirrored his expression, realising who had caught him off guard. Draco Malfoy looked hardly like the clean kept, in control Death Eater Harry loathed. His hair was plastered to his face, his face dirtied as were his clothes.

'Death Eater life not what it is cracked up to be?' Harry said conversationally, raising his fists. 'I could have told you that.'

'Sod off, Potter,' Malfoy snarled, although he was wearing a victorious smirk. 'You're trespassing and soon enough your little cronies at that dump you call a base are about to be killed.'

Harry's heart was beating loudly. So they were right, but he still had the hope that Ron and Hermione could get there first, even though the Death Eaters had a huge head start. Harry's fists fell slightly as his fear momentarily paralysed him and Malfoy struck. Harry was punched hard in the nose. He reeled backwards, out into the open space as blood poured from his nostrils. Malfoy advanced, kicking Harry's midriff and then another roundhouse kick to his chest. Harry sprawled across the ground, rolling with the momentum. He got quickly to his feet, blocking Malfoy's punch but missing his next one. It connected with his jaw and he tasted blood in his mouth.

'I've wanted to do that for a while,' Malfoy said. 'What's the matter, Potter? Know that time has run out?'

At the mention of time, Harry glanced slyly at his watch, pretending his was spitting out blood. Less than a minute until they became part of rubble. Harry went to get up and as he did so, balanced on his hands and threw his leg out in a kick that connected with Malfoy. Malfoy grunted as Harry took off towards the fence, flecks of blood flicking his face from his nose.

'Running away are we now? You coward!' Malfoy called out, snickering.

Harry thought was home free. He was metres from the fence his legs tripped up from something and he was falling face first. He heard Malfoy's raucous laughter as his face grounded into the dirt, his nose erupting in a fresh wave of pain. He rolled, trying frantically to untie the snare wrapped tightly around his ankles. Malfoy strolled leisurely towards him, smirking as though he couldn't believe his luck. Abandoning his escape attempt, Harry reached into the depths of his pockets, trying to find the small pocket knife he always had with him. He got his legs free and raised his small knife to ward off Malfoy but he was standing in front of him, a gun aimed at Harry's heart.

Harry stowed the knife in his pocket once more, mustering his best look of contempt. Harry didn't dare look at his watch but he knew, as he had known once he made Ron and Hermione leave him to finish the task that he would probably not leave this place alive. He should have been more scared at this prospect, but Harry found himself at a certain level of peace.

He fixed his eyes on Malfoy's pale ones, a small smile creeping on his face. At least, Harry thought with grim satisfaction, the blast will take Malfoy out with me. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry's smile.

'Do you find your own death so amusing, Potter?' Malfoy sneered. 'Have your brains been addled?'

'I am quite sane, Malfoy, though your choice in company is cause for concern,' Harry said, looking past Malfoy to the building.

'What is your deal?' Malfoy scoffed, gesturing with the gun.

'I could ask you the same thing. What is your high and mighty plan, here? I already know that most half of your Death Eater pals are invading our bases as we speak, but what would that accomplish?'

'With you lot out of the way we can at last show the government we are a serious threat. Soon, they will listen when hundreds of those who oppose us fill the street's gutters and cemeteries. Our leader and lord will bring us into a new future, which you,' Malfoy loaded the gun with a resounding click. 'Will not be alive to see. It's a shame really. After all the trouble you have caused us, you won't even see your hard work unravel.'

Harry smiled again, this time with a sad sort of pleasure. 'And what makes you think you will be there to see it?'

Malfoy looked at him, confused. Harry waited patiently, staring intently at him. Any second now, Harry thought. In those last moments, a strange memory came to Harry. Not an image or a person but a smell. A flowery scent that gave Harry an elated fluttering in his stomach. He came to the conclusion that it was perfume, but who it belonged to, Harry could not work out.

As he struggled to remember, he noticed Malfoy's eyes widened in realisation that Harry was not here to recover information. Malfoy half turned towards the buildings, his mouth open to shout to evacuate when the entire base was suddenly bathed in bright, white light. Harry watched the light with an avid fascination. It was a beautiful thing until the sound hit them.

The impact of the blast sent Harry and Malfoy crashing through the fence and beyond. An object smashed into the back of Harry's head, causing his eyes to roll back into his skull. Harry fought to keep conscious as his bomb roared in his ears. He thought his eardrums would shatter. He tumbled through the darkness, his body aching with every connection to a solid object as he plunged through the bush land. He tumbled over what appeared to be a small carved out section of land from a neighbouring tree root. Using the last of his conscious, he managed to roll back against the mound, which buffeted the explosion and protected him from debris that was flying thick and fast through the air.

The first blast was followed by several more that Harry was too faint to recall or remember cohesively. When he eventually came to, the explosion was over and the air was still, except the curling of smoke. He could faintly discern the broken cries of dying Death Eaters from the last remnants of the base. Ignoring their cries, Harry flung a shaking arm up over the mound, struggling to pull himself up. Once he rolled over onto the grass, Harry lied on his back; his face to the night sky, sucking in deep lungful's of air.

He had to move, he knew he had to leave this place but he was still wrapping his head around being alive. He was so close to the explosion he should have been ripped to shreds. Realising that Malfoy probably protected him from the initial blast and thereby saving his save, he scowled. He coughed frequently from inhaling the smoky air as his aches and pains started to make themselves known. Harry rolled onto his arms and knees. His head was pounding more than any of his other aches. He grunted as he lurched unsteadily to his feet. The ground split into two as his head did the same. Harry closed his eyes, trying to only get one tree beside him and not three. He took a step forward, stumbled and collapsed to the ground.

'Bloody brilliant,' Harry muttered.

He sat up slowly, testing the barriers of his pain. He risked staying upright for a few more minutes. It was urgent that Harry get to the rendezvous point and find Ron and Hermione and get to a safety house. He tried to get to his feet again, managing a few struggling steps before he fell to the ground, his head threatening to burst.

When his headache subsided to a dull throbbing, Harry crawled to the closest tree, resting against its trunk and roots. His eyes remained closed as he breathed deeply, trying to calm his body down and think of a strategy. Obviously after he got to the rendezvous point, him, Ron and Hermione would have to take shelter in one of the safe houses and judging by his current health, it would have to be the closest one. Public transport was too risky now, as were any of the other cars or vehicles registered under any of the member's names. Harry deduced he would have to walk most of the way, unless he stole someone else's or hitched a ride. Harry was nowhere near a mirror but the pain he was feeling indicated that he should not be seen by innocent civilians; his bloodied and bruised sight would attract too much unwarranted attention.

Harry could hear footsteps. He froze, wandering dimly how long he had been sitting against the tree. Their feet crashed through the undergrowth, unconcerned by the amount of noise they were making. Harry's eyes were still closed and he sat quietly trying to work out the direction of the Death Eaters. He flitted to the opposite side of the tree, his muscles lethargic, as voices began to reach his ears. Once he opened his eyes, blinking a few times so he could see, he watched around the trunk and noticed the bouncing of torches floating towards his location. He stuck his head back, closing his eyes and trying to remain as still as possible.

'Don't know what we are searching for,' one of them said gruffly. 'You saw the base. Ain't nothing left, is there?'

'The Lord reckons the perpetrator is still around,' another wheezed out. Harry's heart thudded as if in response. 'Can't've got far neither, if he is as bad as the others.'

So there were some survivors, Harry thought. His enemies moved closer.

'He's as good as dead anyway,' a deep voice rumbled. 'The bases are all destroyed. His people are either dead or scattered. We know of all of the known hiding places they have and are watching all of them. We should just leave him out here to die and let the animals take his body.'

There was a murmur of ascent from the other two comrades and Harry's heart froze. His friends were either dead or were going to be and it was his fault. He thought of Ron and Hermione and it felt as though someone had walloped him again in the stomach. He refused to believe they were gone and hastened to hear more of their conversation.

'The Lord wants prove this fella's dead though,' the wheezy voice said. 'Show his little friends what happens when you mess with us.'

'He'll have his proof once the animals are done with him,' the deep voice continued.

The first voice cursed and Harry deduced he tripped on unseen debris and then chuckled. 'Did you hear some of them try and plea with us.' He put on a fake, high pitched squeak. 'Don't hurt us. I have a daughter, she is only a baby. She needs me'.

The other laughed and anger bubbled in Harry and he found his shaking was from trying to restrain himself from attacking as much as from the aftereffects of the explosion.

'They should have thought of that before siding with resistance,' the voice growled.

There was silence following the Death Eater's declaration, except for the heavy footfalls. They were metres away and Harry was having an internal struggle of remaining hidden. He knew he could not take on the three of them in his current position but it did not stop the anger and hatred rippling from his every pore. He focused on his plan: get to Ron and Hermione and go from there. If what they said was true about the hiding spots all being watched, they would have to find another safe house for everyone to go to.

'Hold on, lads. What do we have here?'

Harry could sense the atmosphere tense around the Death Eaters and his heart thudded. Harry slowly, shifted so he could see them; his head moving around the trunk. They were bent over his little cave, their torches shining on something he couldn't see. They were all hooded and judging by the small and ferret like look of one, to the broad and large chested of another, Harry knew which voice belonged to whom.

'Blood,' the broad chested one answered, confirming he was the deep voiced. 'And no body.'

Harry pulled his head back just in time before he saw the torch light shine on his current hiding spot. It slowly moved away to his surroundings as Harry frantically skimmed his hands over his body, trying to find the wound. He paused when they spoke again.

'He can't've got far,' the obvious leader of their party murmured. 'Not after an explosion that big. Spread out, we'll find him faster that way.'

Harry wanted to groan. He would have to fight at least one of them, maybe two and then somehow escape. His scrunched his fingers into fists at his sides when his right curled around a rock. Glancing down, he saw it was roughly the size of a baseball. He heard one of the Death Eaters coming towards him and rather than wait until they were upon him or lost his nerve, Harry leapt up with surprising strength, advancing on the bewildered Death Eater leader and smashed the rock firmly against his skull.

With the adrenaline coursing through his body, his aches and pains vanished as he took off into the bushland. The other Death Eaters shouted before shooting blindly and chasing feebly after him. Harry had no idea where he was or what direction he was heading but anywhere was better than with two armed Death Eaters after him. Harry ran out onto an opening in the bushland that was revealed to be a dirt road. He took a few seconds to work out his position and then, realising he was near his motorbike, sprinted off up the path, almost laughing at his luck.

The Death Eaters had not given up in their pursuit but they getting further behind as Harry's adrenaline surged him forward. He turned onto a highly overgrown trail as another shot whistled past his head and there ahead of him, glinting in the dim moonlight was the bike his godfather had given him. Harry jumped straight on, ignoring the dull pain in his right leg. He kick started it and the bike roared to life underneath him. More shots were fired, one embedding into a tree behind where Harry's head had just been. He turned the bike hastily to the road and sped off, the noise of the motor drowning out the last shots made by the Death Eaters.

Harry refused to think of anything but making it to Ron and Hermione as he raced down the highway. The adrenaline continued to energize him but he knew it wouldn't last for much longer. He managed to make it to the little shack twenty minutes later and as he killed the engine once it was safely hidden from prying eyes, he almost fell off of the bike in his haste. He scrambled back to his feet, striding as quickly as he could to the run down wooden shack. Ignoring the brambles and ivy that grew all over the couch and tried to snare him, he threw himself through the door, stumbling dangerously but managing to keep upright from his grip on the door handle. He knew immediately, as his chest constricted, that Ron and Hermione weren't there.

The shack had a cold and dreary feel to it and from what little light Harry had from the early morning, he could see the little furniture it had was upturned and cascaded around its one room. A struggle, Harry saw, resulted in … there was no blood and no body. Harry's chest eased slightly. There might not have been a struggle at all. Harry went back outside, ripping ivy away from his face. He looked down at the ground, paying more attention to his surroundings. He noticed his footprints from the way they slipped and stamped everywhere but could only see one other set. He turned on the headlight of his bike and shined in one of the prints. It was a boot, Harry deduced, judging by the way it pointed at the toes. Harry stared around and came to the conclusion that Ron and Hermione had not been here.

Harry crouched down, his head in his hands. It was too much. If something had happened to either of them … he dismissed that thought. Ron would never let Hermione get into a situation where she was in danger; he loved her too much even if he didn't admit it. Besides, Hermione was too clever to get stuck like Harry often found himself. Harry didn't realise until he was hopping on the bike that he had begun to move. Hermione would have noticed the shack had been compromised and would have instead gone to the closest base instead.

It took Harry another twenty minutes to reach the house of one of the member's that was serving as a base. He had to slow down and take numerous back roads in order to get there as the sun was only an hour or so away from rising and was already beginning to light everything in a dim glow. Harry didn't need to go into the house to see the Death Eaters had been there. He stared, open mouthed at the door that was knocked off its hinges, leaning precariously against the inner hallway. A couple of the downstairs windows were shattered and a faint aroma of smoke hung around the house. Harry could do nothing for whoever was in there at the time, nor did it seem now, Ron or Hermione.

Harry wheeled the bike around the back of the house. The Death Eaters had appeared to have abandoned the place but would come back if they were indeed tracking Harry as he thought. Besides, the other reason for placing the motorbike in their backyard was because Harry had hidden a rucksack in their hedges, in case he ever had to go on the run. He grabbed the rucksack, throwing onto his back, sagging a little under its weight.

Harry gazed fondly at his godfather's gift, knowing it would probably be the last time he would ever see it again. The Death Eaters would be searching for it now and Harry knew as soon as he rode away on it, it would be marked. His muscles were aching now the adrenaline had worn off and his fatigue and exhaustion were starting to cripple him. He had one place left now that the Death Eaters did not know about; even Ron and Hermione were oblivious to its existence but it was the only place where he would be safe to recover.

The house in question, Harry had bought through an alias name, when a time came when the media watched his every move. It was his safe haven of sorts, until the media had found someone else to pester and then he left it unoccupied. Unfortunately, his only means of getting there was to walk and he guessed it wouldn't be until the next nightfall would he reach it. He jumped the back fence into the adjoining neighbour's yard, his legs almost collapsing underneath him. He swiftly made his way towards the dense forest like trees as the sun came up over the mountains, bathing everything in a golden glow.

Harry could not remember his journey to the house. Exhausted, famished, dehydrated and injured, he stumbled and tripped through the forests and open lands; away from the prying eyes of Death Eaters. He broke through the trees to the small estate containing his house. He entered the end of the street and stumbled to the first house on his left.

There were only a few occupants living in the estate currently even though Harry could see the skeletons of pre-built houses in the dusk light surrounding his house. He found from his last stay that his neighbours kept to themselves; for buying out of the city meant they wanted peace and quiet. Harry preferred it this way, so none of them noticed him hobble to the brick house with the large wooden front door surrounded by small hedges.

Harry reached the door and turned the handle, only to find it was locked. He had not thought of that. He was locked out. Harry rested his head against the door, cursing his stupidity. He remembered dimly that he had given the keys to someone so they could borrow his house but in his state of fatigue he had forgotten who that was.

While he was contemplating breaking a window to get it, Harry's legs gave out. He groaned on the ground, his rucksack full of clothes breaking his fall. He shuffled over with his last spurt of energy, propping himself up against the corner of the wall. Darkness fell thick and fast as he sat there, wondering how long it would be before someone found him. Well, the Death Eaters will get their wish, Harry thought dimly. I'll die here before whoever comes back …

Possibly an hour later, Harry wasn't sure, he heard barking. He had closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep but this dog continued to bark. He opened a bleary eye to see a small, brown and white Jack Russell growling a few metres from him. Harry stared at the dog, wondering where on earth it had come from when a slight movement behind him averted his gaze.

The darkness prevented Harry from knowing his intruder but there was something to the cautious way they moved towards him that had his eye's furrowed in thought. Realising finally who it was, for he had given her the keys to this place, because her fame as a football striker had given her more publicity than she would have liked, he smiled dolefully at her, even though she could not see it.

'Are you really going to kill me with a broom, Ginny?' he asked her.