Life had a funny way of turning everything upside down, of making the most very insignificant encounter have such massive ramifications. It was as if dropping a coin in an ocean would create a tidal wave large enough to wipe out a village elsewhere. This was true of Emma. Her life up to the point where she was now had been a series of stupid mistakes leading to various expulsions, troubles and heartbreaks for her. Minor annoyances that had no place becoming bigger ones. Smoking one joint became expulsion, kissing one boy became infamy. It was vexing for her. Leading her to do something she never truly thought she would. Sitting alone at a bar, drinking a random cocktail the name of which she could not be truly bothered to remember and contemplating how her life had gotten so messed up, when in reality, and compared to what would happen to her later in the year, it real wasn't that messed up at all. But here she was, sitting alone outside a pub on Fulham Road in London, cigarette in one hand (a habit she picked up at fifteen, she put the blame on the wild friends she spent her time with) and now empty cocktail glass in the other which she was mindlessly playing with. Boredom had settled in, and she really did not know what to do further. She sighed and stood up, slinging her bag, over her shoulder. She had been at school earlier and her bag was filled with papers and books. All her school mates were off doing their things and getting ready for their Saturday nights. Probably clubbing. That was what usually happened, rich kids spending hundreds if not thousands on a mindless night out. Emma herself had done this several times, but today it seemed mundane. Pointless. Irrelevant in the scheme of life. But then again what isn't.

One stupid comment and everyone was angry or disappointed in her. She sighed and went on her way, lighting another cigarette as she went. Her house was close, and her parents were away for the weekend and she was thinking of having a few friends over for the weekend. While her parents had strictly forbidden her from having anymore 'parties' she was bored, and boredom lead to one doing pointless and usually rash things. Emma was bored. Emma wanted to have fun. So her plan was to see if anyone from her old school was out and wanted to have a good time. So after a five minute walk she was now in her house, telling her house-maid Ira to go home.

"But madame, Sir told me to stay to make sure…"

"Oh poo on what my Dad said! I'm eighteen and perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" She was annoyed, but the petite Polish woman was usually easily persuaded. She was so easily frightened that her little mind rarely understood the consequences of what she did, but tonight she seemed adamant. "Just go home, I won't do anything… I promise!" Ira just stood there looking like a little mouse caught in headlights. They were in the small kitchen, Emma had her head in the fridge, looking for something to munch on, while Ira stood behind. Ira's hands were clasped in front of her, and she took a deep breath before speaking to the teen.

"No."

"No?" Emma turned and rised, looking at the woman who was a good head shorter than her.

"Yes."

"Yes you will leave?" Emma couldn't help but giggle inside at the confused look that appeared on the poor woman's face as she tried to understand the wordplay behind what Emma had just said. She resolved to ignore it.

"I am staying."

Realising her resistance was futile Emma, after making a childish face involving her tongue, at the confused but stubborn maid, walked out of the kitchen and up to her room to figure out her plan of action for a night that was looking to become a rather boring one.

How had this happened, how had everything gone so badly wrong. Harry Potter found himself a mile above London holding on to a rogue broom that refused to listen to him instead it seemed to be going only faster. Harry had pulled with all his strength in one direction and then the other, but to no avail. The broom, with increasing speed, was descending into the giant web of lights that was london. Around him Harry could see spells of every colour flying as Death Eaters pursued him and Order Members, duplicate Harrys and reinforcements included, struggled to protect him. But Harry didn't know if it was much use. He was struggling to hold on, the icy wind was freezing him to the bone and his eyes stung, not helping his already blurred vision. His glasses had fallen off after Mad-Eye caught him. Closing his eyes, unable to block the image of a falling Moody entering his eyes, he couldn't stop the harrowing scene from playing in his minds eye.

Harry had been holding on to Moody as Death Eaters chased them. Showing amazing skill despite his one leg Moody managed to evade spells at break-neck speeds, performing manoeuvres that Harry would have found difficult even as a seasoned Quidditch player. Harry watched as if it was a movie. It was surreal, they were being hunted by five Death Eaters, and Moody was dealing with them like child's play. Occasionally he would let go and release some vicious spell with his wand, steering the broom with one arm, and when he did he was frightfully accurate, with Moody having already taken out two Death Eaters. And then it happened. Moody performed a risqué swerve just as a ball of flame crashed into the tail. It was pure Auror instinct that was powering Mad-Eye Moody, and on instinct he turned around to put out the flame. Harry, already struggling to hold on due to the sharp turn, went flying through the air when Moody spun around. Time seemed suspended for a second, as Moody flew with his broom on fire, staring at Harry with both eyes wide, his mouth slightly open.

It took seconds for Mad-Eye to put out the fire and then nose-dive after Harry. Catching Harry's arm Moody pulled up just as a green light passed a meter underThe Boy-Who-Lived. They were now going straight up, and Moody's grip on Harry's arm was iron. Moody swerved and a red light caught Harry in the leg, creating a deep cut that left Harry yelling out in pain as he legs went flying sideways through the air due to the G-Force of the swerve Moody had made. Harry didn't know whether he heard his gasp against the rushing wind, but at that moment Moody pulled Harry up and just as Harry grasped the broom with all his strength, Mad Eye-Moody died. Harry saw the green light hit Moody, who was looking down at Harry with a grotesque smile on his twisted face, and pure determination in his eye that left the moment it touched him. For Harry it happened in slow motion. The light left his eye, the other stopped spinning, the smile faded and the iron grip relaxed on Harry's hand. And then he fell to the side, hitting Harry on the way down, his face inches away from Harry's shocked one. And then he was gone, the giant spider-web of lights taking the brave man.

Pulling himself back up on the broom Harry couldn't help thinking that maybe had he been holding on tighter then Mad-Eye would not have fallen off, maybe he would not have died trying to save him. Maybe. But it was useless now. Harry pushed back the emotions, the guilt and pain that was surely going to come later if he survived this. The broom was on a downward descent and Harry couldn't change it's direction. The fire had destroyed the tail, and whatever was left of the magic that controlled the broom had died soon afterwards. Spells flew by Harry in increasing intensity, resulting in him looking back constantly in order to move his body to dodge a spell. Three Death Eaters were right behind him, and the only thing keeping Harry, as well as Harry's agility, alive were the order members flying behind them as well keeping them distracted. He had actually rode the broom upside down at one point in order to avoid being hit by a sickly purple light. But Harry's strength was waning. He was losing blood through his leg and his arms were starting to shake. Pushing himself to one side and tightening his legs to grip the broom Harry looked forward as a lethal green light flew by and missed him by centimetres. Flying straight at him was Tonks, flat down on her broom, her hair had lost its pink colour and was black. Her eyes were thinned and a look of determination was on her face. Behind her, one hand grasping her cloak for stability, was an enraged Harry. With a snarl on his face the duplicate was shooting spell after spell at Harry's pursuers. As the duo flew by he noticed his twin's face was covered in blood, and that he was missing his ear. Harry felt physically ill, and closed his eyes as he gripped his broom. This was not a time to feel guilty. People were going to die, people were going to be hurt. This was war.

Taking a deep breath Harry sat up, reached into his jacket and pulled out his wand. Left hand gripping the handle Harry turned around, not even looking at the Death Eaters, pushing the image of Tonks dying as well out of his mind, Harry pointed his wand at what remained of the end of the broom, which was a charred and twisted huddle of straw, and closed his eyes again as he prayed to god that this would work.

'Incendio!'

Emma exited the bar, looking at her watch with worry as she realised it was now twelve at night. Having said goodbye to her friends inside, whom she had snuck out to see, she now started walking to her house as she popped a fresh cigarette into her mouth. Just as she lit it and inhaled the smoke with relief, curing the craving the alcohol had created, she heard someone gasp next to her. Emma looked at the source of this gasp. A young couple, well dressed and obviously out to go clubbing, where pointing at the sky, and those around them were looking up with awe on their faces. Emma looked up, and she too gasped. Her first thought was she had drank to much, but those around her were seeing it too. The sky was a blaze with a war of colours. Every second the clouds were illuminated with a new colour, and sometimes several. Green, red, purple, blue and many others, and all in different places at times. As Emma watched she realised that the spectacle was moving as a masse in one direction over London. And then something new happened. A small orange light appeared and stayed there, leaving a glowing tail behind it. It seemed to have become the centre of the light show. Every light started flashing with such frequency that the clouds were perfectly illuminated.

Although it hurt her eyes she looked on. She could make out little dots flying in a single direction. But they couldn't be people. She had forgotten about the cigarette that was now hanging limp in her mouth. She only had eyes for the ball of red light which she was now certain was fire. It was visible if one knew it was there among the myriad of flashing colours. And then, it went out.