Chapter 1: The Turning Point

Rating: M

Warnings: H/D SLASH, HBP SPOILERS

DISCLAIMER: We do not own Harry Potter! Characters (except those created by us) belong to the amazingly talented J.K. Rowling, WB, and the publishing companies. Don't sue us! We are just bored teenagers having a go at poor Harry and Draco!

A/N: Chapter Edited and re-posted 1/12/06

A/N: Chapter Edited and re-re-posted 10/17/06. (Hopefully all the kinks have been worked out.)

Twenty-year-old Harry Potter unceremoniously stepped out of the fire and into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Wizards and witches jostled around, quickly trying to get to their offices, but, just like every other morning, Harry found himself late. He dusted his garments from any remaining powder and headed directly towards the Auror's Headquarters.

"Morning, Harry" Ron said as he walked towards his office.

"Morning, Ron" Harry replied, with a smile on his face. He was glad to see Ron since, because of his auror duties, he rarerely saw much of his friends anymore. Any glance or word exchange between them was welcome.

He had become an auror, even though at first he was against the idea, knowing well that he would probably be given special privileges. He hadn't even completed the formal training that was required when he was given the job. He still wasn't fond of the ministry, but he had eventually warmed up to his job, and now he was considered one of the best auror's in England. He was proud of his reputation since no one had given that to him or handed him the ability to be good at catching dark wizards on a silver platter; he had earned it, and that thought alone drove him to continue doing better at his job.

Things had finally turned to normal (or as normal as they could be) after Voldemort's death. Harry had defeated him, but it had been no easy task. The rage he felt when he had given Voldemort the final blow was a rage he hoped to never feel again. Years of pain had finally ceased, but some wounds had yet to heal. He still couldn't forget his feeling of helplessness, of shame, as his friends and mentors died before his own eyes.

Even though he still hadn't avenged Sirius' nor Dumbledore's deaths, he had managed to suppress his emotions, but, given the opportunity, he would immediately take action. He wouldn't hold back on those bastards that had taken a part of his own self when Sirius and Dumbledore had died.

Adulthood had been good to Harry. He had grown over the last few years and now stood a bit over 6 feet tall. He had taken up the habit of working out and now had finely defined muscles, much to the pleasure of his female (and male) fans. His raven black hair remained as messy as ever; his lightning bolt scar just hiding under his messy locks. He refused to get rid of his old glasses but behind these glasses, beautiful emerald-green eyes shone. Gone was that dull emerald that had been present during the war. His eyes were now bright, his gaze an endless abyss. His eyes had the ability to draw anyone in and make the gazer forget everything else around him.

His good looks and boyish charm had attracted Oliver Wood. They had re-met right after one of Oliver's games. Oliver was now the main keeper for Puddlemere United, and after the winning game, he had noticed Harry in the stands. They had talked for a few minutes, and Oliver was surprised to see Harry blush as they talked. As the days passed, they got to know each other better, and before they knew it they had grown dependent on each other. Two months later, the wizarding world was abuzz with news.

Oliver had asked Harry to be his boyfriend.

Harry had instantly accepted, but his greatest problem had been finding a way to tell his friends. To everyone, he was as straight as you could get. To say that Ron and Hermione were shocked was an understatement. After they got over their initial shock, though, they had congratulated Harry. Hermione at first had tried to persuade Harry that a relationship with Oliver wasn't right for him; she sensed no future for them. Harry though, stubborn as always, had refused to listen to Hermione's warning and continued to gradually warm more and more towards Oliver. Ron had been very surprised -- after all, Harry had gone out with Ginny-- but he had accepted it and Harry and Ron had remained the good friends they had always been.

A year later and Harry knew Hermione had been wrong; Oliver was perfect for him. They had been made for each other, period.

Harry continued walking through the dimly lighted hallway. He walked into his office as the Head of the Aurors walked by.

"Late again, Harry," said Mary, his secretary, with a warm smile.

"Yeah, well, I can be excused. I'm the boy-who- lived, the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor, or whatever they call me these days…" he said winking at her. "What would you have done without me?"

Mary just laughed and asked Harry why he was so cocky early in the morning, but Harry just walked on with a backwards wave to her as he made his way towards his cubicle.

He entered and there on his desk, amid the pile of papers he had yet to finish filling out, was a letter. He picked it up, ripping open the envelope with curiosity, and took out the message.

He stared in shock at the message and even read it several times to make sure he had read correctly.

Mr. Potter,

Please make sure to attend a meeting that will be held at the Office of International Affairs at 8:30 am sharp, Monday. The matter that will be discussed involves the sightings of the remaining death eaters. We ask you to please be prompt.

Sincerely,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Head of Auror Office, England

Harry, stunned, looked up at the clock to see that it was already 8:40.

"Shit, I'm late," he said, taking on a run as fast as he could towards the lift.

"Harry, what's wrong?" yelled Mary as he zoomed by, but Harry seemed to be in a trance. His eyes glinted with a manic light as he stepped up to the lift and pushed the button repeatedly to get it to open.

"What's wrong with this fucking thing? Damn maintenance, never fixing things around here- ARGH!" he yelled, as he tried everything to get the lift to open. He had taken out his wand and was about to blast the damn door open, when the lift calmly opened for him.

The people inside stared at Harry in fright, wondering if something was going to happen to them. Harry looked unruly, after kicking and pounding the machine several times, and still had the same manic light in his eyes from earlier on. Not to mention, his wand was out and he looked ready to hex the next unfortunate thing he laid his eyes on.

He entered the lift and several of the wizards and witches got out, fearing for their safety and talking in whispers to their neighbors, all wondering what had gotten Harry into his present state. Harry muttered darkly under his breath about annoying, gossipy co-workers and tried to calm down.

He could not believe that death eaters had been sighted. The death eaters that had not been killed nor captured had fled once they knew Voldemort was going to fall. Although only five escaped, the most important death eaters were among them. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, the top death eaters, had ironically ended up abandoning Voldemort. No one knew where they had gone or if they were still alive.

'But why would they be seen after all these years? There must be a reason why they let themselves be seen. There's no way that they would be discovered because of their own mistake. They're too clever, too sly, to fuck up their life like that,' Harry thought, a million explanations passing through his mind.

Shaking his head, Harry realized that the lift had stopped at his floor, and, with a start, he made his way to the office. He took a deep breath and went in.

"Ah! Mr. Potter, you're finally here!" exclaimed a rather thin and friendly-looking man.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Medac, I didn't realize the time," Harry said as he shook Mr. Medac's hand.

Mr. Medac had just been given the position of Head of International Affairs. He was a middle aged wizard, friendly, yet with impressive hexes that would make anyone think twice about messing with him.

Harry took a seat and looked around the room. Two other people that he didn't know sat looking at him intently and with curiosity. He also noticed Shacklebolt sitting across from him with an uncharacteristic frown upon his face.

"Well, Harry, let me introduce you to these two gentlemen. They are from the United States and are here to explain the situation," Mr. Medac began.

"This is Mr. Williams, Head of International Affairs at the American office," he said, pointing to a red headed, energetic looking old man, "and this is Mr. Bradford, Head of the Auror's in the U.S," he continued, pointing to a young man of about thirty five sitting stiffly in the corner of the table.

"Gentleman," Mr. Medac said, "this is Harry Potter, one of our best auror's, and this is his boss, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Now that we are all here, can you please inform Harry the situation at hand?"

Mr. Bradford cleared his throat, and, with a distinct American accent, said, "Some aurors in my department informed me of various death eater sightings in New York City. They are very reliable and the characteristics described by those that saw the death eaters match the description sent to us by your ministry when they escaped."

"Are you absolutely certain of this?" asked Harry in a hollow voice.

"Absolutely, Mr. Potter" said Mr. Bradford.

"Why are you here when you should be out capturing them, then? They're dangerous! Don't you know the danger the people around them are in? Don't you have any idea of what it's like to have them running loose? The kind of havoc they could create?" exclaimed Harry, coming out of his trance and standing up from his chair.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter, calm down," said Mr. Williams in a raspy voice. "We have tried to capture them, but it is impossible, and that's why we came here in the first place, to request your help. We need you to come to America and help capture them. We've heard that you know best how they work, and back home we have a young auror that seemed as eager as you to capture them as well."

Harry sank in stupor, his mind buzzing with all the things he had been hold. He had to go. It was his chance to avenge their deaths. It was now or never.

"Of course, I understand," Harry said after a while, his voice back to its normal level now. "When do you want me to go? As soon as possible, I suppose?"

Here, Mr. Williams fidgeted, "Well, you see, we were sidetracked. We were going to tell you a week ago, to give you time to settle your business here, but we really need you, and tomorrow was the day we had planned for you to leave."

"It doesn't matter. I'll get my things ready, and I'll be ready by tomorrow," said Harry quickly.

"Excellent. We will see you here tomorrow to apparate at 7:00 in the morning," said Mr. Bradford in a business-like tone.

"Uhh…," Harry began to say in an uneasy tone, "I don't like to apparate. I would prefer to take a plane."

Here, four pairs of eyes turned to him and stared at him in disbelief.

"Well, I just never liked it. You have a problem about that?" he said, annoyed at their expressions.

"No, not all Mr. Potter! We will see you tomorrow evening in New York to help settle you in. Someone will be waiting for you at the airport," Mr. Bradford said as he rose to leave.

"Don't worry about today, Harry. You can leave now to get your stuff ready, and remember, if you need anything, just fire-call me," Kingsley said in his deep voice.

"Alright, good day to everyone then," said Harry, and left the room to head home.

Meanwhile, back in the office, an argument was slowly rising.

"Are you sure he's right for the job?" asked Mr. Bradford. "He can't even apparate for goodness sakes!"

"He said he didn't like apparating, he never said he could not. Harry is our best auror; he alone knows how to deal with the dark arts. Do uou think he'll mess this up? Did you see the look in his eyes when you mentioned the death eaters? He'll do anything to hunt them down!" exclaimed Kingsley, his voice rising with each word.

"Well, for my part, I trust Harry. He seems right for the job, let's just hope he pulls through," said Mr. Williams.

"So, who's the other young auror?" asked Mr. Medac to break some of the tension that was building up, but also with curiosity.

Harry walked through the halls, his blood pumping with adrenaline. He hadn't felt like this in a while. Thoughts about the war, about his past came into view in front of him. All the suppressed memories that were hidden came back from the depths of his mind that he had long tried to ignore. Catching the death eaters was something he wanted to do and who else to do it than him? His mood had dramatically changed from the morning; the mention of death eaters had changed his attitude. He felt rage, but, most importantly, he felt determination; determination to get the job done. He stepped back into the lift and waited until he reached the atrium, then, using the floo network, headed back home.

Oliver sat on a stool eating breakfast when Harry suddenly emerged from the fireplace.

"Harry, what are you doing back so early?" he asked, noticing something different about his boyfriend.

Harry didn't seem to hear and instead went straight to the bedroom, pulled out his suitcase from under their bed, and began piling clothes into it.

Oliver followed Harry into their room and stood staring wide-eyed at the suitcase.

"What are you doing? Are you leaving me? Did we have a fight that I somehow… er… missed? Are you mad at me?" asked Oliver, wondering why Harry was getting his suitcase together.

"Death Eaters have been sighted in New York. They asked me to go and help capture them," said Harry, busily looking around.

"And you accepted?" exclaimed Oliver, forcing Harry to look at him by taking him into his arms.

"Yes, I accepted," Harry mumbled, wriggling out of Oliver's grasp to continue packing.

"When will you be back?" asked Oliver, finally letting Harry go back to his packing.

"I don't know", said Harry with a careless tone.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry turned to see what Oliver was doing. A dark expression was cast over Oliver's face as he faced Harry.

"What do you mean you don't know?" asked Oliver in a deadly voice. "What about us?"

"What about us?" asked Harry, going into the bathroom to fetch his toothbrush.

"Don't you care about this relationship? We've been together for over a year now! Are you just going to leave me here and feel nothing?" Oliver yelled after Harry.

Harry came back out of the bathroom and looked at Oliver with a slight smile.

"You could come with me. It would be fun," said Harry, "like a vacation."

"I can't leave now! Or have you forgotten that the quidditch finals are already here? And even if I did go, most of the time you're going to be out of the house, probably all of the time, trying to look for those fucking death eaters," Oliver said, boiling with anger.

"I thought you of all people would understand. You know I have to go capture them. I've always wanted to; this is my opportunity-," said Harry, when Oliver suddenly cut in.

"Opportunity for what? To be a hero again?" Oliver said, his brown eyes intently staring at Harry.

"Fuck off! You don't understand what's going on! I'm not trying to play the hero, I'm doing this for myself, and if you don't understand then just go screw yourself!" yelled Harry, now fuming with anger. He turned his back on Oliver and snapped his suitcase shut.

Oliver waited until Harry was facing him again to begin talking. After a few moments, Harry finally turned with his suitcase in hand, but walked past Oliver and towards the door. Oliver held out his arm and stopped Harry, forcefully turning him around to look at him while Harry struggled to get out of his grasp.

"You obviously don't care then. If you're going to have this fucked up attitude, then I don't want to be with you," Oliver said in a low voice, letting go of the struggling Harry once again.

Harry, surprised by the sudden release, stumbled forwards but remained upright. As he heard those words, his shoulders shook a bit, but he immediately controlled it. "Fine by me," Harry said darkly, stepping out into the street and slamming the door behind him.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review!